The Draoidh had one common belief about power. Power is inherent in nature, and therefore it cannot be vile or righteous. It is the soul that wields power that gives power its purpose. At those times, it is vital to question the person’s motivation, not the tool used to enact those deeds.

~Belenus the Sun God

Bones rattled across the blood-soaked table. The Witch Doctor did nothing about the viscera and bits of flesh that adorned the table as it was pulled it from their enemy. The tiny bones of an unknown origin bounced off those fleshy bits, and his eyes lit up as he contemplated their meaning. Finally, they rattled to a stop and settled. The blue-skinned man cocked his head in contemplation.

“Hmpf.”

“Speak nganga, what do the bones say.”

“They do not speak.”

“You cannot connect to fate?”

“No, I definitely feel it, but the bones avoid the truth. They cannot be trusted.”

“Avoid the truth? Is there a powerful entity that we are not aware of, and why did we not know before we started this campaign?”

“No, this isn’t that. There was no backlash. I must consult the other ngangas.”

“Go,” Simbi Anpaka commanded. He was the leader of the Vodun and a Master Herbalist. It was his quick wit and ability that saved most of his people from the Corpse Blood curse. Along with the aid and sacrifice of Anansi.

Vodun practiced a series of arts which was classified as Vodou. It was light or good magic, but most only knew of the darker side that used Hex. Vodou cured curses and dealt with malevolent spirits, and Hex created curses and evil spirits. It was Simbi’s ancestors that made the Vodun cultivation methods directly opposing Hex. It was those same ancestors that helped sealed away Hex magic and killed its practitioners. Never had he expected that seal to be broken in his lifetime.

Corpse Blood’s corruption was typically something even a mortal could handle, but this newer form of the curse was filled with Hex. It was more powerful and allowed Witch Doctors that used Hex to turn those who died from it into Corpse Puppets. The living dead. Some of which even retained their cultivation. Simbi could feel its sinister nature trying to fight against the Voodoo within him. He felt great shame having to flee the swamps and bayous they called home for the past thousands of years. Even their guardian was no match against the Hex, and the last he saw him, the spider Iwa was covered in Hex infused Corpse Blood.

Anansi could change its appearance at will, but most believed he was initially a spider. It was an appearance he used to play tricks on the children, but none of them feared Anansi. While he was a trickster, he was gentle, kind, and wise—beloved by the Vodun people. Best of all, he was a storyteller, and his endless knowledge and wisdom had aided them for time immemorial.

It was Anansi’s sacrifice that the Vodun escaped. While they were typically nomadic, they did have ritual grounds, protected lands that held their most sacred rights. It was those lands where the guardian stayed, not only to protect the portal but to protect their most sacred relics. It was that portal that offered their only chance at life.

Fleeing through the lowest floor of the tower, without refuge or allies, they had to make sacrifices. The first thing they traded was resources like herbs and pills. Their people were well known for their concoctions and potions. Next, it was treasures. Every coin made went to feed his people.

“Husband? Taiwo sent another messenger—”

“Kill him.”

“Are you sure? Our people are nearly dead on their feet. We cannot do this much longer.”

“Kill him. Taiwo summoned Babako and even now borrows power to turn the dead into puppets to serve him. Those that associate with him are no less evil. Kill him. Kill anyone he sends. Do not let that messenger’s words poison the hearts of our people,” Simbi ordered without hesitation. Since he had a fifth-tier Shield, few would dare question him, but his wife… she was no ordinary woman. “Nnena… I know your mind and your heart, but we cannot let him speak. Taiwo has a way of seducing people. We cannot succumb. Without us, the entire world will fall to his undead army.”

“Lover, I will do as you say. You are a great man. You have accomplished great things. I trust your judgment, but I fear for our people.” Nnena said and placed her hand on Simbi’s Shield. That he let her do so showed his trust in her, something that no other word or gesture could do. “But you are weak. You cannot make the sacrifices necessary to keep our people alive.”

Simbi reacted before Nnena. She was not a match for his Iron Shield, and he dissipated the curse that spread like a cloud from her fingers. Looking into her eyes, he saw it—Hex. The magic glowed dangerously within, and he gently rendered her unconscious. The mind manipulation would wear off by the time she woke.

He tore through his tent and turned into a blur as he sought vengeance. The messenger had already started fleeing, but before he could even reach the edge of the camp, Simbi’s spear took him from behind. The massive hole in his chest where his Shield used to be, showed the amount of power used.

“Prepare the defenses. The dead are coming,” Simbi roared. “I’m issuing a death order. Anyone who approaches wearing Taiwo’s color or has the faintest sign of Hex on them—kill on sight. If any of you let one of them near Nnena again, I’ll kill the bastard that did it.”

“As Bondye wills, Iwa commands!” The soldiers shouted. Bondye was the supreme god of the Vodun people, and the Iwa were like demi-gods or lesser gods. To these people, they viewed their leader, Simbi Anpaka, as Iwa even though he wasn’t truly of that status.

As he approached his tent, a handful of ngangas approached.

“We have a course!” The lead Witch Doctor said.

“Speak, Kwesi. What is our path to survival?”

“We focused on a smaller goal. We think an unfated is interfering with our viewings. We must approach the Beastmen, and we have little time to do it. If we cannot reach them within a month, our opportunity is lost, and the Vodun will be annihilated.”

Simbi took little time to think about it because he trusted his Witch Doctors implicitly. Kwesi was his flesh and blood brother and closer to him than his own skin. The other’s were close advisors, two of which had been his father’s men.

“Kwesi, gather our people; we leave within the hour.”

“Osei?” Simbi called out. He was the leader of his guard but were not seen unless they wanted you to see them.

“Yes?”

“Get volunteers. People willing to sacrifice their lives. I need at least three small armies of at least five thousand people each. They are to harass our enemies and buy time for our people to reach the Beastmen. If… if we cannot get enough volunteers, you know what to do.”

“Consider it done.”