The Ruins of Pandemonia

Finding Cankerville proved to be easier than they’d imagined. With a little help from some friendly signs they managed to walk across the arid darkness until they discovered the torches on a new palisade. The long torch stands guided their way through the wasteland, revealing nothing but dirt roads. This particular path took them over a hill, where they were able to gaze upon the shanty housings of Cankerville.

The city, for something of this size could not be called anything else, was made mostly of rotten wood. The houses were entirely made of fungus-ridden planks and tied together with orange-stained iron fittings. Each square was built on top of each other and held together through splintered beams, giving it the look of a reality-defying skyscraper.

They soon found that the ground turned to mosh beneath their boots. Each step sunk deeper into the ground, as if the city was attempting to swallow them. The buildings carried a fittingly putrid scent, a sickening mixture of putrid defecation and vermin stench.

Iron raised his arm to stop Fluttershy. “Look, I’m gonna need to give you this.” he took off his backpack and handed it to her. “Make sure you don’t lose it.” With a nod, she put it on. It was lighter than she’d expected, it was like carrying Spike after a pretty big lunch. “Now, I wonder what sort of-” The loud screeches interrupted their calm moment, causing the humans to twist around in an effort to figure out the source.

“Did those sound like-”

“Rats?” Iron asked with a raised eyebrow, to which she nodded. “Okay, so I’m not the only one.” the rodent howls began again, this time closer than Fluttershy could find comfortable. The soldier immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her away. “Run!” he yelled.

The sounds were now upon them, and as she looked to the sides she could see orange orbs flying at their speed. From the cloak of darkness pair of large masses of fur jumped from into the light. Their guess became reality, as the monsters that escaped the shadows were rats half their size. Clad in leather and hunched, the rodents charged with rusted spears.

Iron slammed his shield at the nearest opponent, following with a downward slash of his sword. The blade cut through the leather and flesh, sprinkling blood as the rat fell on its knees. Seeing its partner in trouble, the other one charged. Its spear stabbed the soldier in the right thigh, right in the only unarmored part. With a short cry, Iron turned and delivered a horizontal swing at its neck. With a clean swoosh, the vermin’s head flew through the air.

“C’mon, you gotta try harder than that!” he bellowed, planting his sword on the ground and blasting the last rat’s brains across the road. “You little kids really need to step up your game!” he exclaimed as he took a gulp of his canteen. With only a screeching battle cry to alert Fluttershy, five more joined the fray. With a reaction benefitting a cloud-walker, she used the dagger to parry the three blows directed at her. THe other two rodents jumped past her, jabbing their spears at the soldier.

His kite shield took the blows, letting the blades scrape past its surface. The soldier split the pair apart, allowing one of them full access to his back. “Come on you little rats, daddy needs a-” he stepped to one side as his opponent thrust its spear. With a step forward he stabbed the rat in the chest. THe other one attacked, backed up by Iron’s boot.

The lady didn’t have time to see the rest, instead focusing on the trio of hunching vermin. None of them seemed to dare to take a step forward, which was great for her. It meant she wouldn’t get stabbed, at least not yet. These rats were adapting, constantly poking at her defenses with their rusted weapons. It was only a matter of time before they got smart.

Then two claps of thunder boomed from behind her, blasting apart an arm and a jaw. She turned around to see Iron brazenly flashing his pistol on his left hand while his right prepared a swing. Five more shots echoed from his gun, none of them maiming their intended target.

The rats countered his charge, hoisting their spears and squealing. Both blades bounced off his breast, forcing the rats to scramble behind their bucklers. But the wood did nothing to stop the bullets. They turned the defense into a shower of splinters and shrapnel. Each shot sprayed the rats with more debris than they could handle. With defenses gone, the rats ran away.

“Bastards.” he cursed as he brushed his armor. “They couldn’t even die like-” a deep, eldritch howl interrupted him. Fluttershy’s skin crawled as the sinister cry echoed. Then it returned, this time louder and more painful than before. “Godammit!” he swore. “Why are there so many weirdos in this fu-” the ground suddenly exploded from underneath. The frail woman managed to jump out of the way, giving her a clear view of her partner flying cartoonishly in the air.

The landing was easy for her, being used to falling from great heights and all, but she could only cringe as Iron fell on his back. His armor rattled, his bones stuttered, but he kept his diligent stance. He pulled out a syringe from his pocket and stabbed his neck, tossing the needle aside once he had drained it.

From the dust of the explosion appeared a giant rat, three stories high, furless, coated in orange-soaked armor plates and with an extra arm. It growled eerily, raising an encased arm and slamming it to the ground.

A loud cackle roared across the dusty plains, spawning goosebumps across the pink-haired lady’s body. The monster dropped on its knees and bowed its pea-sized head. From the spines on its back climbed a pair of topaz ovals. As it drew closer to the light they could see that the yellow objects were glowing eyelids under a sickly green sack. “Yes-yes!” the mask squealed. “Rat-slaves bring me nice prey-subjects! I much-much need them alive-well..” it's raised a brass staff. “Rat-slaves!” it squealed. “Bring-take them!” With a tremor, thousands of rat-men burst from the ground. They were armed with rusted swords, rotten bucklers and manila hemp ropes. They surrounded both the humans, snarling as they blocked their bodies with their shields.

“Can’t we talk…” Fluttershy began before being cut off by a screech.

“NO!” it cried. “I, Lord-Prophet Epidemius demand-order you surrender to me-Lord!”

“If you want to own us you’re gonna have to go through me.” Iron retorted, pulling out his shield.

“Bonecracker will kill-kill you!!” the rat screeched. “I shall feast on your body!” The hooded figure slammed its staff on the beast’s helmet.

Bonecracker, if that was the titan’s name, lurched forward with a pained moan. With ghastly grunts the monster retracted its third limb back to the torso. With a cry, it pulled out a dozen flesh-coated tentacles.

“That’s not good.” Iron muttered. “Fluttershy, I need you to run to the wall. Hopefully there will be some form of ladder. You get to high ground as fast as possible while I hold them back.” He said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Ready, Now!” he yelled as he shoved her forward. “GET READY TO EAT THIS!” he shouted, holding the bastard blade in both hands and running into the mob.

Even while sprinting for her life, yet again, Fluttershy could see what was happening. Iron crashed through the mooks, swinging his blade through wood and flesh. The chorus of pain was a good indicator that the attention was nowhere near her, which was great for her. The soldier’s pack was starting to weigh her down. But she kept on, breaking from her sprint and easing into a jog. If her instinct was working, she could find her way out in a few minutes.

As she raced past the shambling houses, she could see several eyes glaring at her from the darkness. In response, she quickly returned her gaze downward, hoping that her eyes wouldn’t spook the nest.

Once she was at the bottom of a really moldy ladder she looked back. It was impressive what her ten minutes of running did. The battle was clearly too far away, and aside from the glaring amber orbs there was nothing for her to worry about. She sat down on a nearby rock to catch her breath. Even with the putrid smell, leering eyes and the symphony of pain, she found it easy to relax.

The few seconds she spent were clearly not enough to recuperate from her situation, but the fighting was getting closer and she needed to begin climbing. With a deep breathe in her lungs, she walked to the rotten ladder and began her ascent.

The noise was getting closer by the second, and if she was hearing right, getting bigger too. She dared not look back, instead focusing on raising her arms in a simple rhythm. If she could just handle that, then Iron could focus on stalling.

The ten minutes it took her to climb felt more like a decade to Fluttershy. Her hands bled from the splinters she got, and her feet were blistered heavily. But despite the pain, she felt so happy. Why? She really couldn’t say. Maybe it was because she was safe from the rats, or it was because she didn’t suffer a heart attack.

As she sat down to catch her breathe, she decided to see if there was anything to reward herself with. And the three filled canteens were a good reward for her. She unbottled one and took a sip. The water felt like heaven as it coursed down her throat. For all she cared, she could have been in a sauna and it was just as relaxing. And not only that, but she could revel at the fact that the cuts in her hands melted away. Her feet sighed in relief as the tumors disappeared, and even her bruised body eased back to health.

And the water replenished her strength, even adding more than she thought possible. For a second her brain began demanding another sip, even if it was just a drop. And she admitted to being tempted, after all, it was an incredibly refreshing drink. But She couldn’t bring herself to do it. After all, these belonged to Iron. He’d probably be mad for the sip she took. If she downed a canteen there was no telling what he’d do.

So to keep her mind off everything, she began searching for a way out. Just to know where they would be headed next.

But before she could walk anywhere a growing scream forced her to take a new look at Cankerville. The source was a flying purple sphere, heading rather rapidly toward her. She ducked as Iron Cross crashed into the dirt, rolling like a bowling ball and slamming into a nearby wall. The sickening crack of the armor forced Fluttershy to whince. If the noise was right, the soldier must have broken at least part of his spine.

With shock out of her system, Fluttershy’s instincts took her to tend to him. His weapons were still on him, which was a small comfort when considering the extensive damage sustained by his armor. There were dents everywhere, so much that the breastplate looked more like a ball of crumpled paper than it did a piece of protective metal. His arms were naked and covered in pus-ridden scars, while his face sported so many bruises it looked like there was more purple than pink.

“Oh dear…” she whispered to herself. “Are you alright?” she asked Iron. But the soldier didn’t respond. Her hands began to sweat. He was probably dead. He had to be. Still, her gut told her he wasn’t, so she at least had to make sure. She neared her head to his mouth, if he was still breathing, she would feel it.

The warm, moist breathe dispelled her fears. It was not regular, but at least is was there. She considered taking off his armor, but there was a high probability that the metal was keeping blood inside. So instead she turned to her flask of refreshing water. He was no stranger to it, so there shouldn’t be a problem with giving him a sip.

She carefully placed her thumb on his lower lip and gently pulled it back. Once his mouth was open she uncapped the canteen and poured a trickle of water. The magic liquid quickly passed down his throat, immediately eliminating the bruises from his face. His arms began extruding large amounts of pus, while bones contracted back into shape. The wails were short, finished just as quickly as they had begun, and these told Fluttershy that she was done for the moment.

She slumped to a nearby mound of dirt and sighed heavily in relief. She had managed to save Iron Cross, a soldier, from death. That’s not something she could say every day. But she could say it now.

With a victorious yawn she pulled out the sleeping bag and prepared to rest, unwilling to think of the dangers that could stalk her.