Age of the Undead: A Zombicide: Black Plauge Novel by C L Werner

Author:C L Werner [Werner, C L]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: epic fantasy, horror, media tie-in
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2022-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“The things you talk yourself into,” Gaiseric hissed under his breath as he crept along one of Singerva’s desolate streets. He glanced down at Fang and thought the wolf sympathized with his view. The worst part was that it made sense for him to range out ahead of the main group. He had the sharpest eyes and the keenest ears of any of them, except Fang. But the wolf couldn’t exactly communicate what it spotted, only that it had spotted something. Gaiseric could drift back to the others and let them know exactly what was ahead of them.

“It isn’t that you shouldn’t be here,” the thief reminded himself. “It’s that you should have stayed in the tower and let them handle it.” After ducking several mobs of zombies already, the relative safety of Vasilescu’s fortress was something to pine for.

That option had been lost when Vasilescu arranged a big distraction to draw off the zombies so the drawbridge could be lowered. The moment Gaiseric ran out with the others across the plaza, there was no turning back. He was committed now.

“Loaded dice and marked cards,” he berated himself. “You know you wouldn’t have been able to sit back there either. Not when you know they’ll need somebody who knows how to spot a trap.” Gaiseric wasn’t as confident as Drahoslav that the dwarves had a guide to the traps they’d built for the witch hunters. It just didn’t seem the thing anybody paying to stop thieves would let the builder record, however fanatical Ironshield and Company were about keeping an account of their labor.

Gaiseric recalled the time he was in Karlik and he’d tried to burgle the storehouse of a dwarven weaponsmith. He was much younger and naiver then, cocksure in his innate talent and deaf to the advice of far more experienced thieves. He knew the market value of a dwarf-made sword, and that was enough to make him intent on pilfering the wares. The trap he’d found on the window was contemptuously easy to spot and disarm. It hadn’t dawned on him that it was too obvious. It was naught but a ploy to draw him in. He’d nearly lost his fingers when a steel shutter came slamming down after he tripped a pressure plate just behind the sill. Luck and the swiftness of youth kept him from being maimed. After that he maintained a healthy respect for dwarves.

Turning the next corner, Gaiseric spotted the building Drahoslav had described. It was a broad stone building, only a single floor high, with a flattened roof and no windows. A squared arch, carved extensively with runes, framed a pair of immense bronze doors. A plaque bolted to the side of the building proclaimed, in both dwarfish runes and letters legible to Gaiseric, that this was Ironshield and Company.

The thief was so thrilled at finally reaching the place he didn’t notice that Fang was hanging back a few paces. The wolf’s ears were flattened against the sides of its head, its lips curled to expose sharp teeth.

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