ImmacuNES III: Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy

A gnome flanked by a pair of dwarven Guardians stood before the Fourth Slinger Brigade, reciting from a scroll, “Men of Achat, you have fought bravely for years, and decades for some. You have faced everything that the Diabhal Iasc could throw at you. Your actions have protected your families and friends, as well as spared the next generation the horrors that you have gone through. However, we cannot keep this indefinitely. In our hurry to send you to the front lines, we neglected some of the most basic training. This must be remedied. As you well know the situation has not changed, we still need every one of you out here holding back the hordes, and your leaders back home simply can’t send out replacements while you’re sent home for training. As a compromise, Lord Sharad has said that certain individuals be sent to a special training camp, where those few will learn of combat and strategy. They will return and teach the rest of you what they learned. Do not think this will be a picnic, you will be through worse than you can imagine, worse than your sergeant here can on his worst days.” A disgruntled looking dwarf saluted at this. The gnome continued “You will go though six months of hell. Those who wish to volunteer for this service please stay, all others are dismissed” and he nodded to the drill sergeaNT

A burly dwarf stood stock-straight and bellowed at the top of his lungs, “You heard the gnome! Get back to your tents you miserable excuses for throwbacks! Turn about and… MARCH!” The ranks of slingers left in almost straight lines, with a great deal grumbling as the sergeant continued haranguing at them. The gnome looked at the two dozen people left, some hopeful youths and the veterans who saw one too many companions die because of incompetence. The gnome rolled up his scroll and stood ramrod straight. “Gentlemen, you are going to come with me back to Achat for testing. If during those tests you are found lacking in what is needed you will be returned here. You have exactly thirty minutes to say your farewells and grab essentials. Dis-MISSED!” The gnome turned and marched to his mule, packing the scroll safely for the next brigade.



Sharad looked at the assembled soldiers, over three hundred had volunteered in total. This was obviously far too many. He marched down the line, who were giving their best attempts at standing to attention, and questioning random soldiers. He stopped before a sickly looking one, who couldn’t be more than twenty years of age, “Soldier, state your name.”

“I-I-I’m kn-known as Odr-r-ran s-sir” he stuttered

“Why did you join the army, Odr-r-ran sir?” Sharad said, staring very intently into Odran’s left eye

“H-horrors ki-killed my family” Odran began

“LIE! Answer truthfully!”

“I-I-I don’t kn-know what you me-mean s-” Odran tried to say

“Your left eyelid is twitching. Now tell me the truth”

“THAT IS THE TRUTH!” Odran shouted back, and then slapped his hands over his mouth in shock at what he just said

Sharad glared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. He slapped Odran on the back “Good, you’ll make a fine soldier.” and he continued down the line.

An hour later Sharad pointed at various soldiers down line, maybe half of them, and the rest were led away to be sent back to their regiments. Sharad stood and addressed the rest, “The test will begin now. This test will be quite deadly for those who are found lacking, and there is no dishonor in backing out now. Leave now if you have any doubts whatsoever. You have twenty minutes to decide what you’re going to do. You are to be totally silent during this time, this is a personal decision and is not up to public discussion” and he sat down, talking to some of his advisors about the purposed plans for building a public discussion building while a different one pushed for a building for training soldiers. After twenty minutes passed Sharad stood up again, “Your time is up, your decision is made. Now all who wish to leave can do so.” Over half the soldiers stood and left, eyes avoiding those of their comrades. The few who remained, about fifty, looked at Sharad nervously. “And now for the test! You all pass, congratulations. Training begins tomorrow and now I’m leaving you in the capable hands of Mr. Rearden. Good day” There was a low murmuring in the crowd as Sharad left “what did he say?” “we passed” “did something seem wrong with his shadow to you?” “what about the test?” “that was the test” “hey, you got any food? I’m starving over here” “what?” “what do we do now?” “what do you think we’ll have to do?” “I see your acorn and raise it three smooth pebbles”

Training began the next day. The gnome had spoken truthfully, it was worse than even their Drill Sergeant could imagine. In six months Sharad had taught them how to lead their fellows, kill without mercy, and die for something more than them. They came boisterous and full of youth’s confidence in their vital importance to the world, they left silent and fully aware that they can and will be killed on the battle field. They left as soldiers.

A consciousness crept through Achat in the dying heat of the late afternoon, moving from shadow to shadow. It stopped and watched three children were playing, swinging a rope while singing a song.

“O woe is me! O woe is me! I used to have a hamster tree! But it was eaten by a newt, and now I have no cuddly fruit! O woe is-”

There was a crash as the child missed a jump and hit the ground, rope tying her legs together. The other children giggled “You messed up first!” “Bah, it’s a stupid game.” “Yer just sayin’ that cause you’re a sore loser!” “what’s a hamster anyways?” “It’s a kind of horror and it will eat you if you aren’t careful!” explained one child. "Liar" "Meni told me so!" “what do you mean I’m a sore loser? You messed up the rithem!” “That’s not how its pronounced moron” and the argument went on. The entity smiled to itself and moved on to an inn further down the street.

A couple workers were in a heated debate while basking in the glow of fresh beer. “All I’m saying is that its about supply and demand! If I ain’t got any money I ain’t gonna buy mutton”

“You’re being stupid, Keynes, if I raise a dozen sheep then someone’ll buy it, having the sheep’ll make people want to buy them”

“But if no one has money then who’ll buy the sheep, huh Saye?”

The entity grinned at this too, comparing them to the children. It continued on its way around the city before returning



He stood on the steps of the Great Temple as horrors scaled over the walls. Thousands, nay, tens of thousands of them climbed up ladders, ropes, even the corpses of their comrades in their blind rush. The defenders, though they fought valiantly, were driven back. He ran into the temple when he saw the last one on the wall collapse into nothingness. A young woman, it was Alari, still alive, grabbed his arm and said something in hurried tones, she thrust an amulet into his hands. He placed a hand to his ear and tried to say that he couldn’t hear her, dropping the amulet into a pocket. She repeated herself but the sounds of the battle filled his ears. He glanced behind him and saw a dozen horrors charge the priests, ripping their insubstantial forms apart. Alari tugged at his arm and ran down a hallway, one among many fleeing forms. He tried to keep up but was separated in a crowd. The crowd suddenly changed directions, moving with him, horrors had circled around. He ducked into an empty hallway and ran faster than he ever had in his life, sprinting down corridors and abandoned prayer rooms. He had to find it, it was here somewhere. After what felt like years of running he found it, a room with the last portal just as the horrors caught up again. He dove through, all thoughts of his friends and family eradicated in his need to escape. As the portal’s magic moved him he saw through the walls at the city burning, all was truly lost. Then there was darkness

Sharad woke up in a cold sweat, the dreams were returning. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. A cup of cold water removed the remaining sleep. He stared into the mirror the hung above his bed, seeming to contemplate an old amulet set with a piece of ebony. The dreams… the horrors must think him a spineless coward, that bringing back the memories would cause him to buckle. The dreams only strengthened his resolve, the ones who caused this will pay.