Chapter 1-10 - Helpers (1/2)

The control radius of a ‘new’ Dark Minister was five hundred feet. This was natural, and without limit... any undead of fewer Hit Dice than the Minister was subject to its control and coming under its influence.

As it got more undead under its control, and specifically Congregants, intelligent undead subordinates, it could expand its sphere of influence up to five hundred yards. The Congregants formed chains of control in every direction that could keep control of any undead the Dark Minister subjugated.

The sign of its direct influence was the pale black flames on the lesser undead, granting them temporary Health equal to its Charisma bonus, typically +5. These points restored at a rate of one per six seconds if they were used up, which seemed minor, until you realized that even an undead that was almost falling apart could still take a blow from a baseball bat and not go down.

Worst, overlapping bonuses from the Dark Clergy – Ministers, Bishops, Cardinals, and presumably a Hierophant – all stacked, and their Charisma scores only grew higher.

In addition to that, the command auras of the Dark Clergy were considered Actively Desecrated ground. Ground under a Shroud was considered lesser Desecrated ground, granting undead a +1 profane bonus to hit, damage, saves, and per Hit die of Health. Around the Dark Clergy, that effect was doubled, just like they were standing on true unholy ground, with a Shrine or Altar there.

My one-shot kill potential of zombies inside this aura were probably non-existent right now, without some hefty odds in my favor. That was the biggest benefit of the aura... moving an undead from one-hit kills to two-hits, effectively halving your kill rate, and giving the undead more time to swarm you and kill you.

The passing undead were more organized, marching almost in step, and I realized why the road was mostly clear... the undead had shoved the cars and other obstructions out of way here at the instruction of the Dark Minister...

The sky-blackening number of stronger incorporeals fell off like a knife, and even the stronger unliving had been moved ahead of the almost solid flow of zombies now moving in unison past on the road.

I could feel the Minister’s presence like a dark sun gliding past, I was pretty sure borne aloft by its minions, and waving its arms around. It would look like a skull-headed human, with blackened skin, surrounded by the black-green necroic flames that were its armor and power, the sign that something dark out there had reached down, touched it, and made it a servant of undeath.

It ghosted across my aura of being Shroudborn, and I felt a distinct sense of casual awareness. There was a pure instinctive attempt to reach out and take control of an undead, and it simply ghosted past me, my aura didn’t react, like I was a static source of negative energy sitting there, unresponsive.

Or a weakass demon sloughing off, maybe...

The source of the feeling continued on past, while I watched the undead out the rear window.

When they slowly turned in my direction, I could only groan.

I couldn’t start a fight until the Dark Minister was well out of range with its personal horde. It could simply turn around and send the whole thing after me.

However, if I had its speed right, this should basically be the last of the mass undead moving towards the wall, so there should be no trailing awareness as long as it got out of range... and if I snuffed the controller undead here.

Which I would have to do, if I wanted to live. It would fulfill any last order, and then immediately move to catch up to its Minister. However, the Minister wouldn’t have knowledge or awareness of it beyond the five-hundred-meter range, as long as there weren’t any relay Congregants, usually incorporeals, serving to extend the control range.

As quickly and quietly as I could, using Minor TK to help lighten myself, I went up the old stairs, spreading out my weight and easing up to the second floor as the first rattling came from the front door, and a moan escaped something outside the front window.

There went my whole plan of sitting down there, sniping them off, gradually pulling back into narrow defendable areas while vivus helped burn them down...

“New plan... snipe the boss once out of control range, hope there isn’t another Congregant close by, kill the rest for as long as it takes, bail and find a new place to hole up...” I sort of muttered under my breath. I could hear the ripping and tearing as something clawed its way through the curtains, remnants of glass crunching loudly and clumsily, while I went up the trapdoor stairs, also thoughtfully lubed ahead of time.

I had originally planned to leave it down and draw stuff up one by one, or force them to find another way... but this time, I just closed the trapdoor and retreated over to the window I’d cleaned up the inside of so I could look outside, again moving slowly, carefully, and on all fours.

I even locked the trapdoor with its simple latch from the other side, just to confuse things more.

The creaking and crunching going on down below was hopefully masking any sounds I made. I glanced outside, and grimaced at a whole buncha rote zombies in all manner of ragged apparel and lack thereof gathered around the house to find whatever their boss had gone looking for.

I’d washed my scent from everything, so the ghouls shouldn’t be able to sniff me out here. I’d even replaced it with a faint odor of rotting meat, just to be on the safe side, so they’d be confused about what was here.

Making it the strongest in the basement, mostly by bringing the food from the refrigerator down there and rotting it, had been an idea. Anything to buy time and distract them.

The zombies could climb stairs. With guidance, maybe they could open doors. But they couldn’t really search. So, whatever was actually searching would be the Congregant, the intelligent thing, and so the boss.

Now I just had to hope it took a while to sniff through the place. Undead had a pretty warped sense of time, and especially if this thing had been around for years, there was no rush about anything.

I saw the black flames slowly recede from the zombies below, and they stirred reflexively as they lost the Buff from the Dark Minister... but they didn’t go away, bound to the control of a greater undead.