“I feel less of a man as I sit down today with my quill and parchment…I made my way to the Swamp and turned back. What horrors lay beneath the water! Grotesque creatures that turned my legs to wet noodles. It will take a braver man than I to explore that despicable bog!”
* from the private journals of J.P. Cornish
“You really should up your toughness, dude,” I told myself as I stared at the pool of Quintessence I’d yet to spend, hearing Alastor’s voice in my head.
Wonderful, tasty Quintessence!
“You’re right about that, my weird friend.”
My Toughness was still 5, where it had begun, but the Risen hadn’t even touched me. If I was going to keep grinding the Swamp of Sacrifices, I didn’t see any reason to spend anything there—or my Vitality for that matter. So, maybe brashly, I dumped everything I had into Strength and Viletaint.
* Rand—Level 6
* Vitality:14 HP = 352
* Toughness:5
* Strength:22
* Skill:5
* Viletaint:14
* Intellect:5
“Hell yeah,” I thought with pride, ready to carve up the entire zone with my axe. Looking down, I realized I’d been so pumped to learn my new talent and spend my Quintessence, that I hadn’t even bothered to loot any of my kills.
I added almost a complete stack of Soothing Syrup to my inventory, and also 3 Scourge Steel bits. The smithy’s words rang clear in my mind.
Bring me a chunk of Scourge Steel. And I’ll get that axe of yours singing a sweet tune!
Scourge Steel Bit—A tiny piece of Scourge Steel. Not much use on its own.
“Damn,” I muttered, dropping the 3 pieces into my inventory. My best guess was it was like other RPGs, where the smaller pieces would add up to a bigger piece that you could then use to upgrade your weapon. The only question was; how many did I need?
Wilhelm would be able to tell me of course, but I wasn’t in any rush to head back to the Weeping Hills—not while more Risen were alive. I didn’t know how far away Ebonmire really was, but I figured I had a bit more time before I had to head back to meet Altarus and Fujiko. Besides, I still had to test out my new talent.
I felt like a prize fighter after a knockout and strode forward through the thick, pungent swamp water, breathing through my mouth to save myself from the stench, searching for new prey. But to my surprise, the swamp was quiet. Had I somehow managed to kill every Risen in the area? That didn’t seem possible, even if the enormous amount I’d hacked down had given me a level and a half of experience.
I stomped heavily through the puddles, thinking maybe that would drive any Risen still clustered beneath the ground from their hiding spots, but none came.
“Come out, come out!” I shouted. In the swamp, my voice did not echo. I pictured the vibrations rippling through the air, only to be stopped by the thick sheets of hanging moss, cushions that swallowed up the sound the way the waterlogged earth sucked up the corpses of the fetid creatures that had tried so hard to kill me.
Again—nothing.
I was a little annoyed as I continued on. Here I was with a brand new skill and some beefed up stats and there was nothing to kill! I made as much noise as I could as I walked, splashing down heavily in every pool of rank sludge, slashing away at any branch of vine that got in my way, but still—nothing came.
“What the Hell, Rathborne?” I muttered, kicking a root that was so rotten it exploded against the tip of my boot. “What’s the respawn rate in this place? Two years?”
The swamp seemed to go on forever, the silvery blue moonlight cutting spotted beams through the canopy like a flashlight shone through a cheese grater, and I was just getting ready to turn back or recall, when something hit my leg.
It felt like a set of teeth clamped around my ankle, and I looked down to see almost just that; a thick gelatinous mass the color of snot, translucent with rows of spiked teeth concealed with in, suckling at my flesh like a baby might suckle from its mother. Only this abominable monstrosity’s objective was my blood.
-11, -12, -17
The thing rippled and bounced like gelatin as I swatted it with my axe, but it fell off all the same. I looked around to see where it had come from, and my eyes landed on something so strange it took me a minute to process, but I quickly recognized it as the thing I’d seen moving in the distance when I first arrived at the swamp.
It could only be described as a sickening mutation, a cross between a monstrous snail and a starving man. The shell was at least four feet tall and looked like lines of cold grey-blue stone that had been folded and rapped like a cinnamon bun. A tough line of crusted mire clung to the side that touched the ground, and from a fleshy mouth-like opening at its front, was the pale torso of a tortured man.
Not a fleck of color decorated his eyes. The balls of tissue embedded in his oblong skull were like glass globes filled with old milk, or balls of cheese that had gone off weeks ago. His sinewy arms were obscenely long and his hands, which clawed at the ground as it pulled itself towards me on whatever it could find, held only four fingers, each of which was precariously thin and seemed to have more than three knuckles. Just the sight of it made my stomach turn.
Toxic Snail—Level 7
Thankfully, the disgusting thing moved slowly, but as I stared at it, it raised up its head, pouted its lips in an almost comical fashion, and spewed in my direction.
Another glob of wicked snot wobbled through the thick air and struck my thigh.
“Gah!” I cried out, slicing it in half with my axe before it had a chance to get its knitting needle teeth into me. My feel propelled me back as I leapt behind a tree. I could hear the vile thing crawling its way towards me, but thankfully it was relatively slow, which gave me time to develop a strategy—or so I thought.
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Something squealed behind me and two sets of teeth embedded themselves in the backsides of my ankles, sending shards of pain streaking up my legs.
-29, -31
I spun and struck out at two enormous dog-sized rats snapping jagged yellow teeth at me. My blade hit one of them in the skull, cleaving off a chunk of flesh that splashed heavily into the water.
77
The thing screeched angrily and hurled its quaking body towards me, sinking its two thick teeth into my thigh.
-38
I yelped and slapped it away with the butt of my Blunderbuss, not dealing any real damage, but getting the damn thing off me. It was then I noticed a threatening red bar had appeared in the corner of my vision where the debuffs normally appeared, and was about a quarter of the way full.
What’s going to happen when that fills up!? I thought, raising my gun and letting loose as the second rat attacked. The slugs plastered his face, but my timing was off and I missed the riposte. Thankfully, the shot was enough to send the pesky creature spinning away from me, his jaws twisting in a way that was all wrong.
His companion bit down on my boot and I watched as the mysterious debuff bar bulged as though it were being pumped with bile injected from the thing’s repulsive mouth. I brought my axe down hard and cleaved off its left hind with a brutal blow.
84
The thing squealed, but instead of retreating, kicked off the ground with its good leg, aiming itself straight for my guts. I reacted like a veteran gunslinger, raised my trusted Blunderbuss and squeezed the trigger. The bell-shaped muzzle cried out and peppered the creature with slugs—this time my timing was perfect.
The riposte sounded, and the rat was thrown back. It landed on its back with its tender, vulnerable belly exposed, but before I could raise up my axe to strike, I felt another one of the snailman’s balls of sputum slap against my side. I felt the bite of the teeth and saw another debuff appear.
Toxic Swamp Sickness—12 Damage Per Second for 8 seconds.
“Shit!” I howled as the rat snarled and clawed at my leg, propelling itself up to my neck and clamping down hard.
-41
I tried to swat it away, but the thing held firm and squeezed again, dealing more damage.
-27
In the corner of my vision, I saw the Toxic snail emerge from around the tree, its skeletal hands clutching a vine that it used to pull itself in my direction.
Seconds, I thought. I only have seconds!
The mystery debuff bar was past halfway. I didn’t know what was going to happen when it filled, but it definitely wasn’t going to be good. I swung wildly with my axe, slashing the tail of the rat intent on severing my head from my neck, causing it to squeal and drop off like a dead branch.
The other beast was recovering from the stun that had belted him down with my perfectly timed riposte, and I took that second I had while it scrambled to its feet to pop a Soothing Syrup. The sweet liquid was like a shot of strength as my health slid back to full, but the Swamp Sickness was still ticking away.
All right, you bastards, I grimaced, taking a step back as the rats readied themselves for another attack. Let’s go!
My eyes on their muscles, I anticipated their movements and slashed out at the air with my axe in a broad, cleaving stroke. The stupid beasts leapt straight into it, and my blade severed the tissue holding their jaws together.
115—117
One of them hit my leg like a bag of old flesh, and the other landed at my feet, perfectly placed for a downward strike. I put everything I had into it and embedded my axe in its back, scoring a massive blow.
280
Before it could recover, I lashed out again, the hit causing my Rally meter to flex and bloom like the world’s toughest flower. The snailman spit again, and I simply Shadowstepped behind the rats and brought my axe down in a diagonal blow that tore one of them to pieces.
150—190
I felt like my ears were about to bleed as the thing’s death rattle rang out. Quintessence twisted around my body as the last rodent, whose jaws were now all but useless, raked his claws across my leg. The nails were like knives that cut quickly.
-17, -22, -18
The damage wasn’t anything to worry about, but each strike added onto the crimson debuff meter that was steadily growing in the corner of my vision. Only a sliver remained before it would be full, and who knew what would happen then?
The snailman spit and hit me in the shoulder, refreshing the Swamp Sickness that had just worn off. I fought for a Soothing Syrup, but the rat scrambled up my body like a fevered squirrel, screeching in anger and pain, clawing at every inch of me.
-19, -23, -17
The debuff bar was so stacked I thought it was full, and my health was ticking down from the Swamp Sickness. I thrashed wildly at the rodent, swinging aimlessly as the pain of its attacks seized me. My shoulder cried out in agony and something splashed beside me, and I looked down to see the Toxic Snail had reached me. In contrast to its slow travel speed, the snailman snatched at my legs with incredible quickness, pulled hard and yanked my feet out from under me. I hit hard—some kind of stone or root carving a hole in my side as I landed.
Breath left my chest as the monstrosity began slamming its forearms wildly, clubbing me with a frenzied anger as though it was literally trying to beat my life out of me.
-31, -45, -41
My health was plunging and dropped even more as the rat continued its onslaught. The debuff bar was about to blossom, and I knew my time was up.
Fighting through the pain, I slashed the snailman’s shell. My axe dinged off it like I’d just struck stone.
12
My new skill! I thought as I spun to the snailman and thought—Blunted Strike.
I felt a mysterious hand guide me as I spun my axe in my hand like a whirlwind, catching it and driving the butt of the smooth handle straight into the Toxic Snail’s grotesque face. A sound like deep bass echo sounded and a look of shock smeared across the creature’s face. It froze in place, giving me the opportunity I needed. I leapt to my feet, Shadowstepped and threw back a shot of Soothing Syrup as the debuff meter filled and burst like a firework made from bone and flesh.
FRENZY!!
The blood-red letters appeared in front of me, jagged and horrible, temporarily filling my vision and blinding me. With a sickly sound of tearing flesh, 90% of my health vanished instantly.
“Shit!” I cried out as the snailman’s sludge sucked at my shoulder and the rat leapt up toward me. My Blunderbuss blared and I scored a riposte. Using the second stun window I had, I cut the toothy mess of snot in half and brought my axe down on the rat’s belly as it lay there helplessly at my feet.
412
Two more hits and the things died, but my health was dangerously low and the Swamp Sickness was ticking away. Only a sliver of health remained, and I wasn’t sure I had enough time to heal before it killed me. Thankfully, the gamer in me flexed his muscles and a brilliant thought entered my mind. I opened my character sheet and pressed the Recall button.
I managed to “breath” a sigh of relief as I hurtled toward the lamppost. Someone shouted my name as my feet hit solid ground, but I was too preoccupied with my health to respond. I lifted a Soothing Syrup to my lips, but before I could swallow the healing liquid, the last vile tick of the cursed Swamp Sickness hit me and sucked away the last sliver of my precious health.
“Rand!” It was Jacob’s voice, and I grimaced as the Mizaguchi’s taunt appeared before my eyes.
DEATH TAKES YOU!