The Power of Ten

<Oh, that must be good stuff!> he exclaimed. <Out of pure curiosity, you said you were kidnapped and brought here by Dark Warlocks? For what reason? Ransom?>

Well, four days ago I was pregnant and near my due date. Now Ive got a twelve-inch scar on my belly and no baby on board, so Im pretty sure that was the reason why.

Okay, that shocked him more than finding a lovely young woman stumbling out of a Shroudzone. <They stole your baby?> he exclaimed, staring at me, probably wondering why I was so calm.

That or sacrificed it. Which was also possible, if unlikely. I woke up nearly dead on a table, cut open like a fish. My Bloodline Awakening is the only thing that saved me. Which was perfectly acceptable, as a Bloodline, even if not Awakened, was also the powering force behind wizardry.

<You... seem to be taking it remarkably well...> he observed.

You get your baby stolen, your Bloodline Awakened, come back from being clinically dead, kill four of five Sinbound, lose your baby because the last asshole can Shadowjump freely under the Shroud, kill a ghast and bunch of zombies, walk fifteen miles while recovering from a lethal C-section, get hit by a shadow, kill more zombies, ghouls, ghasts, and a wraith, walk another ten miles, and tell me how I should be feeling right now, flyboy.

He let that go, sensing suddenly that I might be a pretty dangerous person behind the black eyes and elf-blooded beauty.

<Surviving two nights with the undead is impressive, Miss Traveler>, he complimented me warily.

I have other words to describe it, flyboy. Did I sound tired? I sounded tired. Well, I felt like shit, even if I was mentally alert, aware, and capable. I could do tired.

He eyed the ghoulish blue on my hand and decided to leave off the twenty questions until we got back to the wall.

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I tiredly sat up to get a better look at the thing as we approached.

It was big, a good hundred feet tall, and looked to be formed of pre-made concrete hexagonal blocks, a very good engineering achievement. The top of it was about thirty feet wide, with some basic battlements to take cover against ranged assaults or missile fire, a secure railing at the back side, and some grim soldiers inspecting the Runes that had been etched up and down the facing, probably pre-made on the blocks and then linked up smoothly with a Shape Stone to remove any gaps.

This naturally would have had to be assembled over time, brought in during the day, left there as the builders left, and more brought in the next day.

I didnt know how long it had taken to build all this, but theyd kept at it pretty good.

I looked up at the haze instinctively. The edge of the Shroud was very close to this place... a couple hundred yards more, and this wall would be swallowed into the Shroud. The Protection from Evil keeping the incorporeals and demons at bay, and most of the spell effects of the undead, would be useless, too. There was a Consecration aura on the whole thing, too... this was holy ground, which would nullify some of the bonuses of the Dark Ministers and undead.

There were gashes and scratches on the surface down closer to the ground, rapidly growing thinner as the wall rose above thirty feet high. Yeah, enough zombies could form ladders over anything, but they were restricted in strength, and this wall looked to have been repeatedly Stone Shaped to be quite smooth, and deny them any handholds.

A hundred-foot zombie ladder would collapse under its own weight. If you had enough numbers you could try to do it with tens of thousands of bodies, but the pile of corpses was going to be asymmetric and want to slide around and collapse, especially as it kept crushing the undead below it and destabilizing. Sliding zombie fun...

By the time they got to the top of the wall, they wouldnt be able to do much more, and certainly trying to march an army across the pile wasnt going to work. There was no cover on this side of the wall, and all the stairs were completely exposed.

I saw some holes and nozzles near the top, probably for pumping out gasoline to set alight. The dried-out zombies would probably go up like tinder, and spread quickly, resulting in an inferno of undead burning on the face of the wall.

There was no carbon scoring on the concrete. It must have vanished with the sun... just like all other traces of the undead, save for the impact theyd made on the ground and soil in front of the Wall over time... and the broad landscape leading up to it.

<Impressed?> Helix asked with a smile, as I looked it over.

Good engineering, I replied, wishing I had those Ranks of Engineering and Architecture and Sculpting right now. Why dont they flank you from the waters? I peered into the distance. Ah, you have them along the shore. The area of effect must extend them out into the water. You just have to have them long enough that they cant get around them in one night... and they dont have to be so high, either.

He was giving me an odd look. <You sound like a soldier.>

I poinked my pointed ear. Its like I havent grown up being around Powered all my life. I glanced lazily at him. Youre not seriously questioning my undead-killing creds at this point, are you?

<Hah! No, I think not.> We were descending towards the tents and rough barrack buildings on the other side, including one with a prominent red cross on it. <Please excuse me. Im going to get you checked out on several levels, just to be on the safe side.>

I waved my good hand lazily. To be expected. Are they familiar with Shroudborn?

<The, um, condition isnt unknown.> I smirked despite myself at his tone.

Hope not. Damn cloud.