Exiles in Arms: Night of the Necrotech by C. L. Werner

Author:C. L. Werner [Werner, C. L.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, IRON KINGDOMS, Adventure
Publisher: Skull Island eXpeditions
Published: 2013-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Rutger circled around the fighting ’jacks. He shouted at Rex, warning it to keep a tight hold on the helljack’s spike. He’d heard descriptions of these infernal machines, monsters that had earned the name “Reapers.” The spike was piston-driven, made of magically strengthened bone and corrupted metal. It could gouge almost the thickest armor plate, stabbing into the hull to puncture engines and rupture boilers. The favorite tactic of these diabolic monstrosities was to secure a victim with its harpoon, then reel in the enemy ’jack and reduce it to scrap with its spike.

The necrotech’s body was ringed with arcane runes. The creature pointed its claw at the Reaper, and the helljack’s spike began to blaze with sorcerous energies. The magic began to corrode Rex’s fingers. Trails of metal crumbled from the warjack’s hand as the eldritch emanations rotted its grip.

Staying close to the Reaper and keeping its spike locked at its side rendered its best weapons useless, but the necrotech’s venomous magic was quickly breaking the warjack’s hold. Then there was the problem of the necrotech. Rutger knew the hallmarks of a warcaster when he encountered one. The uncanny lifelike reactions, eerie quickness, and dexterity of the ’jack indicated a level of control far beyond the skills of even an accomplished operator.

While he shouted to Rex, the Reaper raked its tusks across the warjack’s hull. The necrotech was trying to get one of those tusks lodged under Rex’s neck. From there, a twist of the helljack’s torso would send Rex’s head from its shoulders. Given the helljack’s damnable quickness, it was only a matter of time before the fiendish machine succeeded.

Rutger circled the feuding machines. He tried to bring Jackknife slashing down across the helljack’s leg, but even as he struck out he was assaulted from behind. A powerful blow gouged across his back, shredding his coat. If not for the armor he wore underneath, he would have been slashed clean to the bone.

The mercenary spun and brought Jackknife flashing outward. He caught the downward swing of a sword, sending both it and the rotten arm holding it bouncing across the floor. His undead attacker didn’t seem aware of its mutilation, continuing to thrust at him with its stump.

Beyond the attacker he’d mangled, Rutger could see more risen climbing up from the pit. They moved in concert to the crazed shrieks and gestures of a wizened witch slathered in blood. Stroking the broken nub of her horn, she pointed a bony claw at Rutger and sent the walking dead after him.

“Azaam!” the slobbering voice of the necrotech called down. The creature had climbed to the top of the spiral stairs to secure a better vantage. Perched on the walkway above, the monster looked even more spider-like. Its eyes were fixed on the witch rather than the mercenary. “It will go ill for you if you interfere with my experiment.”

The reprimand was accompanied by a wheezing laugh, but the witch paled as though it were a threat uttered by the Dragonfather himself.

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