I felt like a shepherd herding a flock of bloodthirsty sheep as I jogged across an open plain. I tapered my pace keeping only a 10 yard gap from the closest wave of sludgecrawlers, acting as a carrot on a stick. A few stragglers broke off for Waystone, but the majority stuck on my heels, far more interested in melting my bones.
A cramp clenched my right forearm, but I didn't dare holster the Gloomgem Tonfa. It was paramount to my survival strategy that I continuously stacked its passive effect. I longed for my daggers, wishing I hadn't left them in the stash house.
I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, leading the foul smelling slugs further from the village. Any time the herd showed signs of losing interest, I'd turn around and bash one in the face. It would howl and I'd run as its shrill cry re-energized its brethren.
The pursuit continued for ten minutes until I reached a steep, downward slope. The uneven terrain was dotted with jagged stones and demanded precise movement. I spun around and outstretched my left palm.
“Shadow Weave,” I shouted as a burst of energy swelled from within before it shot out through my fingertips.
Drawing shadows up from the ground beneath me, I created a slender, keen-edged net and raised it into the sky like a puppeteer pulling on the strings of a marionette. Feeling my stamina quickly seeping away, I cast the shadow net over their front line, turning a row of slugs into diced sushi.
The surviving sludgecrawlers paid no mind to the front row's evisceration. They swarmed onward, barreling toward the plateau's edge. I wiped sweat from my brow as I turned away and skidded down the rough slope, knowing I'd run out of stamina long before I eliminated the horde. I had certainly gotten faster at sewing complex patterns with Shadow Weave. Each subsequent use was noticeably smoother, but still resource intensive.
+1000 XP
While I appreciated the hefty XP gain, slaying monsters was unsatisfying. Instead, my skin crawled and my nostrils stung from their overwhelming stench. The sludgecrawlers flowed over the hill's crest, gaining massive momentum on their descent.
I skipped over a patch of pointed rocks and peeked over my shoulder. The slugs at the front were thrust ahead, tumbling into an uncontrollable roll.
Acidic spittle sprayed across the back of my cloak as a sludgecrawler popped like a water balloon against a stone formation it had rolled over. The sticky liquid seared through the cloak's fabric and eroded the armor beneath it.
At the slope's base, I saw abandoned mining carts scattered along a dirt path and knew I was headed in the right direction. A moment later, two sludgecrawlers shot past me like rocket-powered bowling balls.
The ground trembled beneath my feet as I ran, dodging stinky torpedoes as they blew by. Magelights twinkled in the distance, suggesting the quarry I so desperately needed to reach wasn’t much further.
Unfortunately, I was no longer leading the pack. Rather, I was in the center, wedged between the dizzy sludgecrawlers that had whooshed past me and the legion on my heels.
Several yards ahead, the slugs who had blown past me formed a dense blockade. I ran straight at them, waiting until I was inches away from colliding with their teeth, then jumped over the first row and activated Dagger Step, teleporting behind their ranks.
I swung my tonfa upward, cleaving through a sludgecrawler's jelly filled rear-end with ease. My sense of accomplishment fleeted as an exposed, pus colored sac swelled up. The sac pulsed once, then burst, showering me with acid.
I tucked and rolled as a slimy glob ran down my left arm, melting my vambraces and searing my flesh. Digestive spittle wet my back, finishing off my armor before it dripped down my back, throwing me into a world of undeniable pain.
+100 XP
Stumbling forward as the horde gained ground, I reached into my combat supply pack and retrieved a pink vial covered in dried blood. Involuntary spasms shook my left arm as I tried finessing the cork off. Seeing the mess of tendons and blistered flesh that made up my left arm fired off a wave of nausea.
Mid stride, I brought the vial to my lips, tore the cork out with my teeth and swallowed the minty concoction. The potion cut the pain down from incomprehensible to just unbearable.
Tears blurred my vision as I sprinted. I squeezed the tonfa's grip, the cramps throughout my right arm long forgotten. Dread overcame me as I ran in a wounded panic, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, knowing if I passed out here it was all over. The night breeze swept across my scorched appendage, extracting waves of searing pain with every gust.
An eternal nap in the abyss was beginning to feel like a viable alternative to whatever hell this was. Maybe I was just paying my dues. I'd done more than enough to deserve such a fate.
I docked my chin into my shoulder and bit into my supply pack's leather strap before my teeth chipped from being clenched too tight. Hardly able to think, I staggered toward the magelights on, driven purely by my desire to knock Xodoven's teeth out and flay Westcott alive.
“What a goddamned joke,” I said as I came upon another steep hill.
I launched myself down the slope, my feet barely touching the ground as I raced downward. Like before, the mindless slugs bumped into each other, causing another avalanche.
Adrenaline surging, I veered to the left and eluded a bouldering slug. Another one rolled across an angled boulder, splaying itself open at my side.
Shadow Weave.
I instantly raised a sheet of shadows inches up from my side, blocking the acidic backsplash. The magelights glowed brighter in the distance as I touched down at the hill's base.
However, several sludgecrawlers had rolled past me to the bottom. I glided down the dusty path, bobbing past the monsters with the quarry now clearly in sight.
A sludgecrawler lunged at my side and I bashed its face in with my tonfa, killing it instantly. Two more suffered the same fate, minimizing the acid spatter by only targeting their heads.
I held back from using Shadow Weave again, fearing my stamina would be totally spent by the time I reached the quarry. Moving on auto-pilot, I weaved between monster after monster, dispatching them one by one thanks to my tonfa’s passive effect.
+900 XP
With the path in front of me cleared, I pulled ahead, drawing out every spare ounce of agility. I had dragged the stampede far enough from Waystone that I was no longer concerned with them losing their attention and turning back for the village.
As I crossed underneath the first in a series of magelights atop steel posts, I spotted the quarry. The ground transitioned into a paved ramp that stretched down into the deep stone quarry. Like I expected, Westcott and his party of level fours were already fighting the guardian, a 12 foot tall skeleton dressed in a dazzling white robe, its fabric sparkling under the moonlight.
Target: Dor-Koth
Level: 10
Karma: -8725
Additional Data: Guardian of The Rockbound Quarry Dungeon, this mage obsesses over his skin care routine, never missing a day.
What skin? More data.
Bonus Data: Wields a greater moonstaff, amplifying his spell's effectiveness.
“Take the flank,” Westcott shouted.
Accompanying in his party's struggle, in the quarry's center, were a dozen Black Diamond mercenaries. Most of whom were level five, with one exception.
Target: Arthwin
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
Level: 8
Karma: -2110
Additional Data: Prefers laundry detergent imported from...
I skipped straight to the bonus data as I strolled down the ramp, watching their battle unfold.
Bonus Data: Once held a board position amongst Black Diamond Mercenary Company before being ousted for lighthearted embezzlement. Currently commands BDMC's intermediate squad.
Both of their groups were balanced with a number of robed mages, light armored archers, and a few heavy plate wearing warriors.
Arthwin and his mercenaries charged at the skeleton's side. But Dor-Koth raised his staff and encased himself in a bulb shaped barrier. Their weapons bounced off the shield, and they aborted their melee assault.
Using their tunnel vision to my advantage, I jogged down the ramp, waiting for the first wave of sludgecrawlers to appear behind me at the top. Moments later, they poured in after me, sliding down the ramp. I activated Invisibility and leaped off the ramp's side, targeting a cloth canopy beneath me.
The canopy successfully braced the impact. It snapped as I crashed into the ground, dust kicking up all around me. I lay on my back in the middle of an abandoned mining camp, watching the fleet of slugs funnel in. They rolled down the ramp like loose marbles, hurtling directly toward the ongoing battle. The same ramp that piped into the quarry's center also served as the only exit.
One of Westcott's level fours twisted on his heels. “Above us, look out!”
The adventurers and mercenaries turned their gaze upon the ramp.
“Order your men to hold them off while we finish this,” Westcott shouted.
Arthwin peered out beyond his skull shaped helmet. “Your men are the closest,” he said, as if they were arguing over who should pick up the TV remote.
Six sludgecrawlers crashed into the quarry's wall at the bottom of the ramp. Two splattered against the stone, cushioning the rest. The survivors immediately scurried toward the battle as more slugs flooded in from behind.
“You fools dare ignore me?!” the guardian bellowed as his opponents split their attention between the two threats.
Did the system just translate the guardian’s words?
“So be it. Just stop whatever it's doing.” Westcott signaled his party, shifting them to meet the flow of sludgecrawlers. “Aim for their heads and don't puncture their venom sacs.” He brought his two-handed sword down, decapitating a slug with little effort.
Meanwhile, the mercenaries pelted the guardian's shield with a relentless barrage of arrows until a hairline fracture formed across its barrier. Arthwin charged forth and screamed, “Fearsome Blow.”
I groaned at his ability's name, only to be surprised when he rammed into the barrier with his shoulder and shattered it. Fragments of solidified mana screeched against his armor as he drove his spear into the guardian's bony arm.
Dor-Koth spun, canceling its channeled spell, and tossed Arthwin back into his troops. The skeleton mage hovered its palm over the ground and blasted himself 10 feet in the air.
Agility Burst.
I blew through the quarry, still gripping the tonfa for its passive, hoping its damage was stacked high enough for a one shot. My invisibility faded as I passed in between two mercenaries. The rush of air caused by my movement blasted by their shocked faces.
“Commander!” one mercenary yelled.
I used Arthwin's back as a stepping stone. Kicking off of his shoulder, I shot into the air, face to face with Dor-Koth. The guardian raised his staff, but he was far too slow. I thrust my tonfa upward, connecting with its jaw. Splintered bone shrapnel scratched my cheeks as I grabbed its collar, tearing the fabric as I pulled him close and whacked him on top of his skull. Suddenly, the guardian lost its ability to glide and tumbled through the air with me in tow. We landed hard on the ground.
Dor-Koth’s hollow eye sockets lit up with a swirling crimson hue as he pressed his palm to my chest. Immense heat swirled out of its palm and glided across my torso as I smashed my baton across its head repeatedly, realizing it wasn't going to die before it finished casting its spell. As the burning sensation intensified, I instinctively activated my untested defensive ability as a pure gamble.
Abyssal Veil.
Raging flames exploded out of thin air, engulfing both of us. An intense dry heat swept around me. I raised the baton up and brought it down once more. The fire extinguished as the guardian's skull exploded into pieces. Huffing in pained breaths of smoky air, I spotted an iron key tied around its neck by a small chain. Dense smoke obscured everyone's vision as I slowly guided my left hand over the key and pinched it between my blistered fingers.
As the smoke dissipated, I tucked the key into my supply pack. Through clenched teeth, I pulled out a second healing potion and wrangled the cork off.
Warning Stamina Low
I sipped the potion, listening to the screams and shouts of Westcott's party as the sludgecrawlers pushed them back. The cool concoction wet my chapped lips, numbing the pain. I flexed my left arm and choked, feeling my nerve-endings protest over the motion. The injury looked as bad as it felt. Compartmentalizing the pain, I rose off the guardian's corpse.
I had accomplished my goal, but I hadn’t realized Abyssal Veil was going to consume such an outrageous amount of stamina. My legs shook beneath me, my body begging me to rest.
+2150 XP
“What in the realm just transpired?” Westcott's voice cut through the tumultuous sounds of a tense battle. “Arthwin was that you?”
I heard the mercenaries shuffle into a circle around my position. The smoky veil lifted, revealing my presence.
“Who in Galdir's name are you?” Arthwin asked.
Surrounded and outnumbered, I raised my tonfa in the air and declared, “Nobody. It just looked like you needed the help.”
A mage amongst Pearl Banner channeled a wall of flames across the quarry's ramp, drastically slowing the influx of sludgecrawlers. I had hoped the disgusting little monsters would've torn through their ranks by now. Yet, Pearl Banner remained unshaken, successful in their defense with Westcott's combat prowess and effective leadership.
Arthwin reached out his palm while the rest of the mercenaries readied their weapons. “Hand over the key.”
Westcott ran his greatsword through two sludgecrawlers, and turned on his heels. The satisfying look of surprise that crossed his face was almost worth the 3rd degree burns.
“Isn't there a finder's keepers clause in the guild's rulebook?” I asked nonchalantly.
“That's Cyprus, you idiot,” Westcott shouted, dissecting another three slugs in a flash.
The level five mercenaries tightened their circle, inching closer from every direction, blades and spears drawn.
“Well, isn't fate a generous mistress? You saved us the trouble of looking for you,” Arthwin said.
Pumping adrenaline, mind-numbing pain, and unfiltered bloodlust combined with Agility Burst's lingering effects. The result catapulted me into an intoxicated state. Was this nirvana? Finally, for once in my life, I felt content. My surroundings faded, leaving only darkness and the featureless outlines of surrounding figures.
“He's badly wounded. Finish him, quickly,” Westcott commanded.
Straddling the fine line of consciousness, the silhouettes collapsed and my instincts took over. I spun on my feet, addressing the blades at my back first. Iron shattered against my baton as I counter-attacked and broke through their ranks, putting my back against the quarry's wall.
An arrow pierced my right shoulder, but I hardly noticed it.
Am I dying?
“Now.” An over-eager level five charged forward with a sword and shield.
I swept the tonfa low, which bashed into his armored knee. He fell at my side, where the heel of my boot greeted his face. The squelching noise erased the momentum of their follow-up. I shot forward, smashing through a spearman's skull as an arrow punctured my upper back.
“Be careful, he's still dangerous,” Arthwin shouted, standing behind his forces.
My lips formed a thin smile as swordsmen descended on me from both sides. I feinted left and swerved to the right, avoiding a blade to the neck. I thrust my tonfa into an armored chest piece, which crumpled in like a tin can as the pointed tip of a knife punctured my thigh. I brought the baton down on my flank, blindly crushing the hand of whoever stabbed me.
I launched myself forward into a wall of pointed blades. Before they reached my flesh, I activated Dagger Step and appeared behind Arthwin, who displayed a surprising amount of spatial awareness as he ducked back, avoiding my baton strike.
Warning Stamina Level Critical
Warning HP Level Critical
Arthwin countered with a leg sweep that I barely avoided thanks to the last ticks of Agility Burst. A heavy plate sabaton kicked into my lower back, sending me sprawling out at Arthwin's feet. The Gloomgem Tonfa rolled out of my grasp, across the ground.
“I've been waiting to do this,” Westcott said, towering over me.
He sheathed his two-handed sword and retrieved a dagger with an emerald encrusted hilt. Moonlight gleamed off the blade's curved edge as he crouched over me.
Shadow Weave.
Not Enough Stamina
Shit, I don't want to die.
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Westcott brought the dagger down, aiming for my heart. I shot my right palm out, intercepting the dagger as it pierced through my hand.
“Stubborn bastard.” Westcott drew the dagger back, its serrated edges slicing up through the webbing between my fingers.
A hulking figure emerged from beyond the wall of flames, his sword wrapped in a glowing sheen of fire. “Enough, sheathe your weapons or face my sword,” Xodoven said.
Everyone froze.
“Grimspark? State your purpose,” Westcott said, dagger suddenly trembling in his grasp.
”I'm sure the guild will overlook your transgressions if you all back down,” Xodoven said.
Arthwin pointed his sword at Xodoven and said, “We killed the guardian and this rogue tried stealing the key. So if you know—”
Flames trailed through the air as Arthwin's sword hit the ground with his right hand still clutched tight around its hilt. Suddenly, Xodoven was at my side, standing between Westcott and Arthwin, the latter of which dropped to his knees, clutching his severed wrist as he screamed.
“I told you all to sheathe your fucking weapons,” Xodoven said. “I should take your head for such insolence.” Grimspark pointed the tip of his sword inches from Westcott's neck, who withdrew his dagger. “I saw the whole thing. If anyone else wants to argue, speak up.”
I raised my blood-soaked arm and tapped Xodoven’s armored leg with my splayed open hand. He looked down at me, thoroughly confused.
“Live...” I murmured.
“What?”
“Don't kill...” I said, forcing the words out.
They are mine.
“Shut up, you suicidal bastard.” Xodoven shook his head, turning his attention back to Westcott. “Now, finish your assignment, adventurers.”
Xodoven clapped his hands together over his sword's hilt, snuffing out its flames along with the wall of fire holding off the sludgecrawlers. The monsters burst forward, rolling over one of Pearl Banner's mages like a street sweeper.
“Arthwin,” Xodoven said. “Give me command of your men.”
“Fuck off, you're backing down?” Arthwin choked on his words, seething.
Westcott wisely turned his back to Xodoven, staring at the legion of sludgecrawlers descending into the pit. “Either lend me your aid or I'll cut your healers down and let you bleed out.”
I stared up at the stars, trying not to laugh as my vision blurred and my consciousness slipped away.
+400 XP
+100 Karma
