A History Through Blood

Nestled in the roots of an ancient tree that lay deep with-in the jungle rested Akake nla, surrounded by bodies of countless mystical creatures. The scorpion had usurped the underground lair from the possession of a local earth spirit, claiming it as his own after a decidedly one-sided skirmish. Even beneath the forest floor the cold wind still irritated the lingering wounds that refused to heal, regardless of how many times he had shed his carapace.

Akake nla had lived for centuries with-in the southern reaches of the continent, slowly growing his powers over the mortal coil. His adventures across the southern lands found him climbing a small range of rocky mountains, at the top of which lay a nest of Impundulu*. The temptation of the young chicks was too much for his impulses, their soft flesh was filled with such delicious magical energy. It was as if they were begging to be eaten by the scorpion.

Annoyingly the Impundulu had surrounded themselves with families of humans. Normally such settlements annoyances at best, however these humans were able to mount a valiant defense against his intrusion. Their protective wards and cries quickly alerted the entirety of the tribe to his presence, summoning an increasing number of irritatingly brave warriors. Each one held some form of blessing from the Impundulu, empowering their spears with a strong mystical force.

With each magical arc originating from their spears, more and more birds rose from their slumber. Their cries summoning flashes of lightning across the sky, revealing Akake nla exposed on the mountain side. He had noticed the cave on his initial approach to their rocky outcrop, not realizing that it was the only place that could save him. Cries of the humans pursued him as the great scorpion retreated deeper and deeper into the underground cave network.

Eventually, Akake nla emerged miles from the mountainous hills of the Impundulu. Rain poured down as the enraged birds continued to hunt for the intruder. Injured and hungry, the scorpion quietly headed north to recover. It was a long journey across the vast reaches of the savannah, never quite finding a place to rest for a long period. Attempts to raid any human village were growing ever more fruitless, as increasingly their guardians were quick to drive away the battered scorpion.

It was around that time that Akake nla reached an epiphany: the humans were individually weak but served as a useful buffer for the creatures they allied themselves with. As with the primates who served as lookouts at a watering hole, these lowly creatures were the first to identify any infringing party. If he could raise a cluster of humans, he could regularly harvest their souls while living under their constant protection.

Akake nla's first attempt to form a pact with the lesser mortals resulted in immediate failure, as the locals were not familiar with their guardian spirits approaching them in such a straightforward manner. The second and third direct efforts only served to aggravate the local spirits, reopening the scorpion's tender wounds and driving him further north. Anger and defeat only grew his resolve, he would one day subjugate humans for his own means. If it took several decades or centuries, so be it. He would live a life fitting for his stature.

Eventually the scorpion began to learn the customs of the humans, even if he found himself far further north than he had planned. The mortals were far greedier than he had given them credit. They did not simply exchange protection for their services, they desired knowledge that was unobtainable to them. He had stolen techniques from remains of the settlements he had raided, occasionally finding use for such lesser arts. Giving away such things was trivial, but it showed glimpses of future rewards he would not relinquish. Once he found a gullible human, it was all too easy to pressure the other guardians address him as a death god. Cursing the villagers tended to bring them under his mighty claw.

Akake nla reflected on his time embedding himself with the humans, adjusting his body as a cold wind blew down his burrow. It had not gone as smoothly as he had planned. His interference had not gone unnoticed. What should've been a thriving paradise, was instead a dying community that was shunned by those surrounding it. If he saw no improvement with-in a few months, the scorpion would move on and try again with another settlement. Of course, consuming the souls and lifeblood of his followers for his troubles.

As he was contemplating consuming the village, Akake nla sensed that his Tokoloshe had been activated. The incompetent sorcerer he had mentored failed to properly bind the corpses to his will, this was of course part of his design. By discreetly injecting his magical energies into the ritual, the Tokoloshe feel under his control, unbeknown to the sorcerer. It was not unusual for Ambonisye to call on his minions, but usually he did not mobilize his entire collection. Something had spooked the inept sorcerer.

Already tired of the affair, Akake nla usurped command of the Tokoloshe after an hour of waiting for any change in their actions. Ambonisye had always been useless when it came to taking charge. He should have known that it is best to do away with any nuisances before they are allowed to fester or grow. “Kill my minions” he ordered, sending his command through the shadows. “End the existence of whatever worries that stupid human.” Birds flew off into the night's sky as the magical wave surged through the forest, their cries echoing throughout the sky.

-

When Victoria had given notice of a number of unseen observers, Leo knew that nothing good could come from that night. That creepy child's scream had awoken something from the nearby trees, assuming that it originated from the jungle deeps. Everyone was on edge and keenly watching the environment with their hands on their preferred weapons. Their group had learned four words for such an occasion; yasar, yamin, wasat and fawq. Meaning left, right, center and sky respectively in Arabic. Each gave enough information to the group to identify threats, while hiding information from the locals who likely only knew Yoruba or a similar local dialect.

Silently he cursed at his current situation. Fighting invisible and moving corpses in the farthest reaches of the world was an unreasonable expectation for most men. He missed the old days, dealing with violent men or rude nobles, where the only considerations were the type and number of armed opponents. At least Victoria compensated him when he was forced to deal with the more unreasonable supernatural entities. Whether it be good alcohol or numerous women, it was always provided without judgement. He assumed that she did something similar, although what she did to unwind was a mystery.

As he was reflecting on his experiences with the local women, a cry came from the Marka: “Yamin!” Gripping his sword he backed into Arthur, both keenly watching for any movement in the grass. “Pull yourselves together!” Commanded Arthur, noticing the panicking priests frantically running about. “If you are that scared, grab some water and start splashing it whenever you see movement.” “Even Kahina is more collected than you dalcops**.” Noted Leo, mockingly referring to the translator who stood by a water barrel shaking, yet focused.

A loud scream from the far side of their lodgings told him that the passive observers were no longer keen on simply observing. The sound of the astounded yell was soon supplanted by a series of puncturing sounds, likely formed by contact between a spear tip and some unknown body. Unfortunately, Leo did not have the time to process the cries of horror as the nearby grass parted at a rapid pace. What Victoria had, more or less, described as a hunched over corpse was far more mobile than the corpse-like thralls he had seen in England. The dark spell seemed to only increase their speed and dexterity, charging forward with supernatural agility.

Calculating the timing, with a little misdirection, Leo was able to embed his blade into the invisible ghoul. The hollow frame providing little resistance as his sword sliced through its dry skin. Now dismembered at the torso, the creature's magical protection had dissipated as to reveal the now twitching corpse. Instead of blood, black dust drained from the open wounds onto the dirt floor. Were it not for their uselessness, he would've called on the priests to cleanse what remained.

“What a disappointment...” lamented Arthur behind him. While Leo had been distracted, Arthur had already taken down another two. At times like this, Leo liked the crazy priest. His bloodlust and hunger for glorious combat made him a mostly reliable combatant, able to make the correct decisions under heavy pressure. “I will save my brothers,” declared Arthur. “You protect the girls!” Before he could even turn to face Kahina the mad priest had already began sprinting towards the priests desperately splashing rainwater in all directions.

Victoria and Julianna were able to fend off their own aggressors, holding them back long enough for the mercenary to reinforce their position. Despite repeated sparring with Arthur, the mercenaries and himself, Julliana's lack of confidence in the situation forced her to maintain a defensive stance. Not willing to risk injury to Kahina's body, she used her quarter staff to main distance using a combination of sweeps and thrusts, focusing her efforts on protecting their translator over finishing off the creature.

In stark contrast, Victoria actively experimented in the middle of the battle. She had taken up a position on top of the wagon, testing her various reagents on a now immobilized corpse. In the few occasions where Victoria was forced into combat, she often resorted to throwing foul smelling powders and strange liquids to disorientate her opponents to varying effectiveness. In this instance it was particularly damaging, quickly finding that many water or holy based substances disrupted the source of their power and rendering it powerless. Seemingly content with the results, Victoria stabbed its chest before kicking the twitching creature into the dust.

The skirmish lasted less than five minutes, only ending conclusively when Jaali finished decapitating the last creature. Kahina, now able to process her surroundings, immediately threw up upon seeing the reanimated remains. Even without her translation, the local mercenaries' words were clearly laced with bitterness and disgust. Only Victoria remained calm, ignoring the mood around her. “It seems like we don't have a choice but to deal with the source of the corruption.” She gently lifted their translator to get their attention. “Arthur and I will confront the sorcerer. Jaali, have your men guard our supplies while the priests will burn the bodies. Perform whatever rites you want, as long as they are destroyed. Marka, I need you to escort Kahina and Julianna. There is something in this village that needs to be corrected.”