You had spent much of the past two years following the demon, your search taking you far and wide. The demon always seemed to know when you were getting close because each time you followed a trail to the end, you always told that you had just missed whoever the demon was masquerading as at that time. Your journey spanned much of the civilized lands and beyond, even taking you to the frozen wastes of the north, and the broiling deserts of the south. Throughout it all, you had come to grudgingly appreciate the body the gypsy had “cursed” you with: the raw strength and power that your form now possessed had served you well, as had your now feminine wiles—you lost track of how many times you had saved your own life or at least made things easier by batting your eyelashes, rolling your hips, or even flashing some cleavage. Bandits in particular seemed more likely to pay attention to your feminine shape, rather than the katana hidden beneath your cloak, or at least they did so until the distraction proved their undoing.
No amount of seduction was going to help now though, as your blade sang with each stroke, a wet thud or a muffled crack in response for each. You were fighting desperately for your life against a horde that seemed to have no end. The job had started simply enough, stuck between where you were coming from and where you were going, you had taken a notice from the local bounty board; the pay being enough to pay for your passage to the next city, and hopefully another breadcrumb in the latest trail of the demon. It was just supposed to be a simple item retrieval job from the ruined fort up in the mountains above the village. A search of the ruins hadn’t revealed your target, and you were starting to wonder if it hadn’t been a trick or something. If that was the case, it might have explained the sly grins and chortles that some brutish thugs had traded as you set out. But you had little time to consider that, as hat’s when the rotted floor beneath you gave away, dropping you to the floor below, which didn’t stand up to the impact of you falling, neither did the next, dropping you into a hidden network of tunnels beneath the fort.
What the notice hadn’t mentioned was the fact that fort had belonged to a rather industrious necromancer, but you found that out when your sudden appearance awakened several shambling skeletons. They were put down rather easily, but the noise attracted what seemed to be never-ending waves of zombies. They weren’t nearly as well made as the zombies that the gypsy had possessed, but there were just so many of them down here, and they seemed to be remarkably resilient: no matter how much damage you did to each, some part of them always seemed to keep moving and trying to attack you. It came as a bit of a shock when you lopped off both arms of the first, before moving onto the second, only to find your feet tangled up because of the severed arms entangling with your legs. You freed yourself just in time and had settled into the repetitive, but still harrowing, task of hacking and slashing through the undead flesh and bones that continued to press ever closer to you. Despite the strength and endurance that your body possessed, you were beginning to feel fatigue weakening your swings and slowing your reactions—sweat was flowing freely, mixing with the foul ichor that splattered from the walking corpses and matting any lose locks of your black hair to your head.
Your options to try and free yourself were limited though, too little room to use your wings and try to fly up and out, the passage behind you quickly dead ended at a cave-in, and the zombies were pouring out of the three remaining corridors. You could try to continuing cutting through the wave of rotting flesh, but you were unsure if you could keep it up without making a dire mistake that might cost you everything. You could also try falling back into the blocked passageway and see if you could find a gap that you might be able to slip through. And third, you could pull out a last ditch move that you saved in case of emergencies, and it certainly seemed like this might be one of those times. Inhaling deeply, you made your choice and acted.
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