Sha Hanshas was the largest exporter of sugar in the world. From honey, to sugarcane, to sweet rocks, to gum fruits, the sultanate has everything sweet that the planes could ever conceive of. Overflowing bounty floods out of the farms and dungeon towers of the country, all supplying the food and needs of every person residing it. A metropolis where famine is but a dream.
It was also the land of crafters and alchemists. A veritable hub for people who wanted to tinker and craft their very own works, sponsored by wealthy patrons and families that had significant political sway. Artists and inventors all flock to Sha Hanshas from all over the world be it through water, land, or air at the very chance to become apprentices to the many grandmasters of varying crafts here. Truly a hub of scientific and magical advancement.
There are also areas where one could purchase anything you could ever desire, for the right price of course. Bazaars and markets flaunting exotic goods that came from all around the world. They sold elixirs that could add decades to ones life, wine that taste so wondrous that even a town would be drunk just by it’s scent, fantastic tamed beasts that could carve mountains, and treasures fit for kings. Here you could find a fortuitous encounter if you know who to talk to and where to look. It is a hotspot for trade where all it’s merchants are fair and generous.
This is the land where no one starves, a country where everyone has enough food to feed themselves and no child is left destitute or man left to poverty. A country where freedom and liberty are the core tenets of the culture.
All lies.
The slums around the cities hide the suffering of people daily. Illegal animal trades, drug trafficking, underground fighting pits, pleasure palaces, and many other disgusting practices are below the shining glimmers of the establishments below. Altars of decadence and sin flourish deep beneath its winding walls of buildings, with royals and politicians frequenting such dens. Debauchery is a common sight to the ones who’ve lost themselves here.
A tumor grows here and it is hidden by the guise of revelry.
This image of a metropolis is a facade, a lie given to every visitor foolish enough to want to settle in it’s walls. Only to live a life of regret and debt after they choose to anchor themselves here. It is a story woven to tell it’s successes to the world, yet it lies not to it’s natives that grovel in the muck. To them it is all smoke and mirrors, where the dark underbelly of society flourishes behind closed doors.
The rotting wood that built the framework of the country is hidden beneath the coat of fresh golden paint that the rulers keep applying. Yet at some point, even the hardened paint might not be able to support tipping framework of the home.
Its alchemy guilds and inventors manufacture armaments of cruelty and war, where the brilliant minds have given up their hope for escape. Its farms have hidden gardens of poisons and opioids, where it’s workers have nothing outside its fences. Its food stalls selling vermin and waste to the orphaned children for quick profits. The slums are held by would-be rulers adept in the art of making anyone give up hope. And the merchants sell babes pulled from their mother’s arms the minute they were born, sell the very damaging products made by the farms and guilds, and pay off the very rulers of the slums as labor.
They saw the sin and misery spreading out and they commissioned the ones capable of making it worse, while striking the ones who have even the thought of changing their beneficial agreements.
Ironically, the only person stemming the rampant corruption of officials, slavers, royalty, and crime lords is one of the most shrewd and paranoid merchant lords in all of the land. A merchant lord who single-handedly kept the people below the feet of tyrants well-fed and educated. One who made binding oaths with a select few groups and noble families for the purpose of protecting orphanages and tiny sanctuaries for the exploited. One who orchestrated ploys, schemes, scandals, and controversies against the political rulers for the sole purpose of stopping the trading of living beings.
A thorn jabbed in the side of the cancer of the country and the one who still sees beauty in the filth.
The puppeteer, the father, the head, and a merchant lord of the Black Box Merchants Guild, Malik Ulthizar was one of the very few who still saw potential and good in the people of Sha Hanshas. It is because of such desperate optimism that put a large target in his back, and what made him seek unconventional means of staying alive.
He was once a frail old man just weeks ago, a man who could not bear leaving his daughter to fend for herself from the starving wolves that prowl the country.
She was a gift from the only woman he has ever loved, one who died from hired blade and one who sacrificed too much to give to others.
He sought a miracle from an old monster, from a story back when he was just a child raised in a traveling merchant caravan. The boogeyman that many children feared, one that kids would be told at night to clean their messes and watch their manners lest they incur his wrath. The one and only lich of the creeping frost that built an empire of death, blood, and magic. The fabled head of a ten thousand year empire, Den’nishash Gahlor.
He and his fellow lords paid a steep price for time, time that they all desperately needed to keep their loved ones safe.
He paid a price that was more than his weight in gold, more than the ships that brought it there, and more than the effort it took to acquire it. Artifacts, gems, and tomes of power exchanged for time. And it was worth it.
He now had the visage and youth of a man a fifth of his real age, yet still older than his daughter by two decades. He had the physique he had when he was young, one accustomed to labor. His gray hairs turned dark again and his milky eyes regained their vision.
He was standing in his bedroom where just finished his paperwork. Even now that he regained more time, he would still like to spend it in his work.
He put down his pen and took a deep breath.
It has been so long. He saw his daughters reaction, the tears they shed.
What a foolish girl, so full of life and hope. She better not follow in my footsteps when she sees the true horrors of the world.
He stands up in the mirror and touches his face, beard now long and full, and teeth that weren’t rotten anymore.
He unbuttoned his shirt and looked for the grotesque marks that riddled his body like snakes wrapping beneath his skin.
He looks at a mirror showing his back. And it’s gone. The scars he had to carry in his life were gone. He remembers the punishments he had to endure. The months of unending starvation, sleepless nights due to fear, the days where he was tied to a post and whipped with lashes covered in salt, and the many things where he was made to feel hopeless in the slums of Sha Hanshas. The wounds he carried and the damages brought by time were now gone.
This is all for her.
All for Alicia.
A knock pulls him out of his thoughts and he buttons his shirt.
“Come in”
The wooden door opens and walks in a young woman with silver hair, a trait she inherited from her mother. She had skin like polished mahogany and a complexion that made many envy her looks. Her hair was spun into a braid, pinned with gold and silver. She had blue eyes, like a deep ocean frozen in a moment and glowed as if to reflect the gentle light of the moon. Her lashes were long and gentle, as if it was made by using the ethereal feathers of an angel.
She looked immaculate under the glow of the moon, as if the moon only shone because of her. An aspect which she loved so dearly that she wore jewelry and clothes that bore symbols of crescents and the many phases of the lunar cycle, a reminder of the stories her mother used to tell her.
Despite looking delicate and weak, she had a fiery temperament and a sense of pride likely higher than most monarchs. One could call her arrogant beyond belief, yet she was probably one the very few who could justify their hubris.
“Father, I have talked to the heads of house Albaaza and they have agreed to support my rise to the position of governor.”
Malik frowned at the news, but before he could say anything his daughter spoke.
“Father I know you told me that it is unsafe for me to embroil myself to their political pageantry, but I cannot stand by when hundreds of our people are arrested for laws that make no sense and benefit no one!” Alicia gave him a letter containing the seal of Albaaza, a serpent clutching a flower.
Malik examined the letter, tracing the groves with his fingers.
“Alicia, you are a brave girl, braver than most. You are more cunning and more sly than your father. But it is foolish of you to believe that you can change the system from the inside. You are an intelligent girl Alicia, please listen that they will simply use what you care against you. They will use the charities you’ve established and brand it as a syndicate. Or the orphanages and establishments you’ve built be reported as a hideouts for terrorists.”
Alicia put her foot down.
“But what if it doesn’t father. What if I replace the members of the court with allies I can trust. I am tired of trickery, I am tired of lies. I want to stand on top with others and share the same dreams you shared to me. I want to rally the people to a just and lawful world, one that has confidence in our government, one that is comprised of people worthy of the titles appointed to them. I want mother’s legacy to mean something again, I want to bring back the pride that comes with having it.”
Alicia gripped her fists and stood her ground. She remembered the days when her mother had allies that shared her views. She remembered her mother’s allies that looked at her with kindness. And the words they all shared. Surely they could still have remnants of the hopes they held dear before.
“Once you make your connections public, the seal you give to the others will be treated as a curse. It is better to remain hidden. It is better to wait and do things directly.”
Malik pressed his nose and calmed himself. He remembers the traitors that betrayed his wife for power. The ones who now hold seat in the cushions of power.
“The system of power they made up is and has always been working as intended. It cannot be changed, only destroyed. If we wait for laws and regulations to be passed that can change the lives of others, I worry that you would reach my age before anything significant will happen. Many of the lives affected have already be ended at that point, and the people in power will do what they can to make everyone forget.”
“But what if it does not father. I have seen more changes in recent years, faster changes, better changes. How could we not know unless we try?!” Alicia was panting. She wanted to believe that all her efforts would lead somewhere. She wanted to believe in others and their capacity for change.
Malik sat in his chair and buried his head in his hands.
“Once you take a seat in their side, you will only be a target waiting to be penetrated by an arrow. It might not be tomorrow, or a month from now, or even years, but they will blind you enough to seem like you are doing what you set out to do while nothing around you really changes.”
Alicia was angered by this.
“But I will work hard. Surely if I work with the populace, they would remember the goals we all dream of. Surely they would choose what is best for them. I believe that even the poor and destitute may make rational decisions given enough time and patience. Please father. Please believe in me.”
Alicia stared at him with pleading eyes.
“Take it from me Alicia. I have seen how they use ignorance and forgetfulness to the masses as weapons to undermine the harm they inflict to others. They siphon wealth and funnel it to messengers and bards to spread rumors and false reports.”
Malik stood up and hugged his daughter. Tighter, as if he did not want to let go
“Please, if you believe even a bit of what i say, then know that it is better to support our project to usurp those in power. I believe a council of representatives would be far better than the current ruling system that we have now. At least then, even the ones without power could have a voice.”
He held her hands and begged. His eyes sunken, showing the same eyes he had when he had the form of an aged man, desperate.
“Fight with me Alicia, while we still have a chance. I have funded an unseen army big enough to usurp the throne, but I require time. If you join their court now, I might not be able to defend you when chaos occurs. Please Alicia, stay with me to defend them all directly. At least with me you are safe.”
Alicia gripped her father’s hands and gently set them down.
“Father, I am sorry. But I have decided in my methods. I believe them to hold some merit. I may not be as cruel as you with your methods, but I believe that if I worked hard enough the foundations of the current land will much more stable than one built on usurping.”
Malik hugged her, tears dripping from his eyes. Alicia did the same.
“I don’t want to lose you like your mother, I want to see you grow up in a land where you can be free from the mistakes of those before you. Please just give me time to give that to you. Please.”
Alicia pried off her father’s fingers, gently and filled with sorrow.
“I will change this system father. I will make a better future for our people. Either with or without you.”
She walked back and held the door briefly, her eyes still wet with tears.
“Goodbye father.”
Then she closed the door, leaving the old man on the floor sobbing.
Malik cried, torn between his love for his daughter and the responsibility he has for those below him
-------------------------------------------
Judith was strolling in the slum cities of Sha Hanshas, large places where laborers and destitute inhabit. They were promised livable wages when they were mass recruited for building infrastructure. Unfortunately, the employers simply charged them with crimes or threatened them with violence after whisking them miles away from their homes. Now the inhabitants simply beg or become addicts, victims to the poison of the place.
She saw another group of men huddled by a fire, looking like corpses with colored veins. They had scars that wouldn’t heal and flesh that festered from the sewage. All unconscious and lying wrapped in filthy rags.
Judith looks at them in pity.
This place is one that even personal willpower feels lacking in it’s ability to make them avoid such self destructive acts. They lose themselves to sin and excess because the alternative would break them, and they desperately don’t want the misery that reality has thrown them to be seen. They want to live in a fantasy where the tragedies never happened.
This is not their fault, as it is bravery to still struggle to live. Survival is not an objective for struggling through such hardship, as it should be the basis where every aspect and need should be built on. Rather it is to live a life of joy, love, and fulfillment.
One does not blame the poisoned when they purchase bread from the poisoner themselves.
To drag themselves above survival is made harder by the ones who made it happen. These tragedies cannot be blamed to the victims, since it was not them who opted such malicious and careless tactics.
They wanted to survive, to live, and maybe even one day thrive, but hopes like these are often used as bait for the apathetic.
For the people who perpetuate such cruelty benefit from it. If they could save a bit of coin by starving these youngins and push them to desperation to buy from their wares, then they would do it and simply direct the blame on their victims.
For sin is a burden that cannot be given to others.
She stabs the men in the heart with her finger in less time than it takes for a person to blink. And it leaves a woundless hole that bleeds things out.
She bleeds their sorrow and despair, making them slumber just a bit. Then she bled the memories out of them and showed a piece of it to him.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
She showed images of farms and children. She showed him sounds of laughter and the smell of fresh fruits. She showed a loving family and a worried mother.
She sighed deeply.
She took out one of her seemingly endless amount of rings and shoved one inside the men’s clothing. Then stabbed them one last time to bleed some sort of desire or habit they had?
Honestly, he’s not even sure of what his master does most of the time.
“Even now, slums still exist in these so called utopias.” She puffs smoke out of her pipe.
“Tower”
He looked at her, ready for whatever task she had in store.
“Yes master”
“Use your word like I taught you.”
He nodded and put his hands on the men.
Power thrummed all around them, his fingers were bending the very laws of causality to push something to fruition.
Tower uses a CALAMITY to bring these men to their old homes.
See, calamity can be controlled. He may not be able to prevent the loss of something, but now he could at least minimize it to the point that it seems negligible. He could even tweak the details a bit, like determining a vague location for its occurrence or the general time it should happen.
A dust storm appeared to whisk them away. A small whirlwind lifted them and tangled their clothes. They spun and fluttered, then they simply vanished. Strange, but he’s seen stranger things that his master has done in the weeks prior.
Three weeks of training have made it possible for him to do things he’s never thought possible before. Usually calamity would simply make him destroy things. Now he could make it so that the people affected would lose a shoe or get pissed on, but they’ll appear somewhere far away in a certain location he picks.
It’s still incredibly inaccurate and imprecise, but it’s enough to get the job done.
Tomorrow at around this time, the men that just got whisked away will break their toe inside a restaurant, spill their tea on their clothes, or get pissed on by mules. Several hundreds of small calamities spread out to minimize the impact.
Continuous small calamities will keep occurring to them until tomorrow, but they’ll be in their home to experience it.
Judith leaned to a wall and puffed her pipe.
“So, she’s the daughter of that merchant lord, yes?”
Tower nodded.
“Yeah. In the story her father dies and she was betrayed by her closest companions then became an enemy of the high houses. She was forced to run to dungeon towers in order to survive the people pursuing her, but she suddenly stumbled on a hidden area that’s connected to her mother’s origins. Oh yeah, and also she has a word like us that she finds out pretty early.”
“Wow, that is really convoluted. Hehe oh well.”
Tower looked at her master and spoke.
“Can I ask something?”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Why are you so calm knowing that you and the one you love were written by something you barely know about? Actually, all of you guys were completely unfazed by that news.” Tower asked curious at what one who is part of a story would feel.
Judith thought for a moment, before settling on a serene face.
“Well, picture it this way. If you read about a character that saved you through your toughest times even if they were fictional, would their impact on you disappear? If they affected you, does that not mean they exist on some level?”
Tower stood there for a moment. His eyes staring at the ground.
Judith hummed, amused at the boy’s reaction.
“Everything is a story, and in knowing that, we must not diminish the sincerity the so-called characters show. They are real in a way. So tell me apprentice, does knowing that I am a character in the world that you come from diminish my words to you? Now that you are speaking to the character directly, am I still not a person to you? Heh.”
“I-” Tower did not know how to respond. He did not know what to think.
Judith simply smiled and walked down the alleys, making tower follow her from behind.
“Your silence is a louder answer than anything you could ever say right now.”
They walked in silence as the night passed.
---------------------------------------------
Alicia was in the sewers. She was guarded by three hired adventurers, people who climb dungeons and embark on quests for a price. She had an experienced rogue, a warlock, and a druid in her employ. The rogue in particular has a rare system, a path to power given to a very few handful of climbers. Hopefully they’ll be enough muscle in her plans.
She’s meeting with various agents of the high houses tasked with controlling the slums of Sha Morar. They were illegitimate children of the high houses, ones who were eager to betray the ones who put them as rulers of a wasteland. She aims to convince them of her plan to rehabilitate the slums and to promise the slumlords certain resources and powers to aide in her political conquest.
She has done this to various other gang leaders already with the assistance of House Albaaza. She acquired the adventurers from them too, a fortune indeed. She hopes to accrue enough sway in law enforcement in the future, she just needs to conquer the slums first.
She stopped at an empty wall and searched for a marked brick.
Then she pressed it and saw the tactile illusion of the wall vanishing to reveal a door made of metal and wood.
She turned it and strolled inside. It was a safe place hidden from view, one that she had personally arranged in advance.
A simple round table made of wood had nine individuals sitting around it, all had their own personal guards and maybe their own escape plans too. Unsurprising when you deal with paranoid folk.
She clapped her hands and brought all eyes to her direction.
“Wonderful, you are all here!” She said with a smile.
“Get straight to the point princess, I don’t have time to play to your schemes. The sooner you tell me what you brought us all here for, the sooner we can get to business.” An old woman caked with makeup spoke.
She was called grandmother Asheba, the bastard child of the great grandfather of the current sultan. She operated a whorehouse that took in the homeless and abused. Despite being brash, she was someone that Alicia respected. The old woman somehow made the slums halfway decent to inhabit.
She was guarded by women who smelled of poppies and poison.
“I agree with the old woman. Dont tell me you brought us here just to chat and sip tea?” A young man spoke. The current distributor of weapons in the slums, Noren. He was a former guard that quit after seeing brutality among his peers. He currently steals from law enforcement and arms gangs. A good heart, but very stupid when it comes to the intricacies of politics.
He was guarded by a well armored knight.
Three women, each guarded by heavily modified individuals, were silently staring at her.
Avenna, Colita, and Bertra Lazaru, three bitter frogkin siblings who all came from alchemist and medical practitioner families. They each have their own gangs that distribute drugs, medicine, and medical services to the people. They may be a spiteful bunch, but their skills are undeniable. They performed surgeries, abortions, amputations, and enhancement surgeries. The people who frequently ask for their help are normally poor, so they She somehow did the impossible and made them sit in the same table without killing themselves.
Do not worry girl, have faith in your plans. I believe in you.
A voice directly spoke to her and everyone here.
A horned man was tapping his cane, father Ehrlen, a mute priest of the church of the shapeless god. He could not speak with his voice, but he could speak directly to ones mind. He ran the orphanages that Alicia built. He was integral part of the community and one of the very few she truly trusts beside her father.
He is guarded by no one.
She took a deep breath.
“I brought you all here for a common goal. That is to take back our country from the tumors that fester within it.”
Two men raised their eyebrow.
Sharlowe, a burly gnome man of few words and the owner of a simple transportation company was one of them. He commonly takes goods in and out of the cities with no questions asked. Normally Alicia would not have brought him here, but she learned that he was smuggling slaves out of the cities and created a safe haven in the woods. She made contact with this man to deal with logistics and to deal with people seeking asylum.
Another person is Vag Rath, a similarly stoic slimekin that works as the head of a pickpocket gang. He sells information collected by the countless eyes he has around the country. The scope of his work has made him an asset to her. Fortunately they both entered to a soul contract preventing them from making moves that harmed each other. A wise move she was glad she made, who knew the little beggar slimekin she invested in would turn to a veritable powerhouse.
The last one was simply writing in his book, silently organizing and making plans. He is the head of a small adventuring organization. They had tower climbers and magic users in their employ. His name is Rokin, a half-orc wizard. She was the sponsor for this little group, one she had an iron grip on.
“I aim to raise you, my allies as the new governing body. We shall empty their coffers and steal their seats of power. If they refuse to share their wealth to those deserving, then we shall bring them low.”
“Treason it is then? I have heard a puppeteer has been amassing forces to enact a civil war dearie, but I didn’t think it was Malik’s blood who was the one pulling the strings.” Asheba said, a fan covering her mouth but not her judging eyes. It is unsurprising that she knows, what with her own spy network.
Father Ehrlen frowned and used his telepathy.
I sure hope your father knows about you being the puppeteer. Rumor has it that they have weapons of mass destruction. I surely hope you don’t girl, because if you did then I shall with draw my support. I cannot have the children die in fruitless battles.
Alicia smiled.
“Unfortunately I am not the puppeteer, nor do I subscribe to their methods. I am however not one to ignore the possibility of bloodshed. I plan to bring you all together and cut the tumors directly.”
“Assassination then? And how do you suppose to do that when even the palaces of those paranoid inbreds refuse to let even a drop of wine be tasted by their lips unless forced down the throats of their poison tasters? Face it princess, I have guarded those palaces before, they are craftier than you give them credit. What weapon could even pierce their walls or avoid their eyes?” Noren spoke, crossing his hands.
Alicia grinned.
“I am glad you brought that up.”
She took out a simple jade box and put on thick leather gloves. She removed a simple black spike from the box, it was like a nail made as big as an arm. She felt a deep pain in the hand that she used to handle it. She gritted her teeth and placed it on the table.
The three sisters suddenly focused in on the new curio.
“Impossible! How did you acquire something like this?” Avena spoke, looking at the thing wearily.
“This is a remarkable craft my dear. Tell me was it from Deerail? Or maybe the Cadmons? No, this is from Starlight. I recognize the mark on the tip. How did you get this? I thought the inventors were dead?” Colita refused to look away from the spike.
“What’s so special about a spike?” Noren spoke.
“You idiot child, do you have any idea what your looking at? Many would fight tooth and nail just to acquire something like this. This...this thing is alive!” Bertra said.
“Anti-magic living weaponry” Sharlowe said. All eyes started to face him. “Worked in transporting it in the war.”
Always sharper than you look. Clever man.
Alicia looked amused, it was one of the very few weapons capable of nullifying magic. She acquired it through a deal with the seventh prince of Bukor Hantas, one of the silverwing royalty.
“I don’t suppose you were planning to force my company to wield them do you? Do you understand how dangerous those things are? They demand constant blood from the wielder.” Rokin said, closing his book.
“No, at least not all the way.”
Alicia stood up and simply walked. She circled all of them.
“See, what I plan to do is make all of them fight amongst themselves, while we whittle them down one by one. I aim to fill the power vacuum with our very own forces sitting here today.”
She put a hand on the half-orc and looked at his team guarding him.
“Don’t you think it’s time to start your own guild Rokin? Your line of work still has an element of surprise, don’t you think it would be unfortunate if the people you call family lose their safety nets? Don’t you think it would be better if a guild that doesn’t treat it’s workers better just happened to spring up one day?”
She took out her gloves and placed it in front of him. The half-orc’s eyes briefly shook.
“So why not take a gamble.”
She moved to her next target.
“Madame Asheba, don’t you think the ones on top would be better off below the ground instead. Through all the pain they brought us through, don’t you think it would be better to get rid of them now that we have the chance?” The old woman with royal blood deeply detested what her supposed family did to her. She dug her nails in the table.
“Maybe we could all have a place here. No more running away to some forest, no more children dying of hunger or thirst, and no more guards who wouldn’t defend it’s borders because of cowardice.” Sharlowe bit his lip.
“See, maybe the men who guard our walls may not be as competent as they see. Maybe...it needs a new head that could justly implement the law.” She saw Noren completely silent.
“And maybe we shouldn’t starve because some debaucherous politician decided to burn a farm to steal a woman from her children...” Avena’s eyes quivered, filed with pain and malice.
“Or kill her after he’s done...” Colita gritted her teeth, she felt her anger at the injustice.
“Or capture the daughters as a slave to test things with.” Bertra clenched her fists till they were white.
“Maybe it’s time to have a country that doesn’t discriminate and one that doesn’t fear it’s citizens.” The slimekin shook. “Maybe we should have a land that everyone could run away to, a safe haven for refugees of war, famine, or catastrophe.”
“I dream of utopia. A real one made by effort and care. One where we can all be proud of. One where we don’t sacrifice our own kind.”
Her adventurer hire, the rogue with a system, removed an entire chest from their inventory. Space warped as the object simply appeared. She still can’t get used to the scene, maybe she could get a system one day. She opened it to reveal spikes filling the contents. It was a BIG gamble to do this, but she knows she can do this.
She used to be hopeless, leaning in her old father’s deathbed. But a few weeks ago her father had somehow acquired youth. This made her hopeful again and she started implementing her plans to save her homeland.
There’s hope again.
“I want to extend this dream to all of you.”
She slammed the chest, snapping everyone out of their daze.
“So whose with me?”
A few tense seconds passed where they all looked at each other speaking wordlessly, before a horned man spoke with his thoughts. Father Erhlen used his telepathy.
I shall join this endeavor.
Alicia smiled.
“Fine, I’ll join this little plan of yours. But just so you know I get to watch everything play out.” Madame Asheba said with a small grin.
“Sure” Sharlowe said, tipping his head.
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Colita said, massaging her temples.
“Uhh, fine.” Avena said, leaning in the chair.
“You better keep your promise girl.” Bertra sneered at her.
“I join” Vag Rath took out a special coin and placed it on the table, before rolling it in her direction. It was a promise coin, one that bound someone to an oath. “Make promise. Do it.” He gurgled.
Alicia took the coin and brought it to her eyes before pocketing it.
“I promise to do all that i have said.”
A single flame appeared spun in the table, before chains erupted from it and bound her soul.
Noren saw this and rubbed his head.
“Damn it princess, you better make this work! Fine let me in on it too.”
Only one was left. She was waiting for the half-orc.
“So Rokin, are you in or out?”
He put his hands on his eyes and groaned.
“Ugghhh, you better make sure my company gets a large cut from dungeon tax.”
“Heh, I’ll do what I can.”
“Fine then, I’ll join too.”
With that she could start maki-
The warlock was glowing purple, convulsing.
CORPSE EXPLOSION
The warlock blew up showering everyone in gore and spreading a noxious gas.
“Mathias!” The rogue screamed, looking at the dead warlock.
The druid saw this and grew a wall of fungi covering the entrance.
TUNNEL BACK HOME!
Madame Asheba cast a spell, struggling to breath in due to the gas.
A dark tunnel opened up, it stretched far into the inky blackness.
“Quickly get in! *Cough*”
The priest cast a silent spell.
Alicia and the others ran towards the tunnels.
Rokin’s company was wielding the spikes, bonding with it permanently now. They faced the entrance as the wall melted.
PUTRIFY
The fungus wall sloughed off and inhuman creatures ran past the adventurers and targeted the ones in the tunnel before they could even enter it.
A flood of ghouls burst through the walls of the room. Two purple eyes looked directly at us, a man with a face more of a corpse than that of the living, a necromancer.
It pointed towards the closest ghoul to the three sisters.
CORPSE EXPLOSION
Shrapnels of bone and super heated flesh burst out from the puppeted corpse as it gave it’s temporary life to harm two of the three sisters. The blast knocked everyone to the walls.
Bone and flesh gored two of the three sisters.
“Avena! Colita!”
Bertra took out a handful of tinctures of a crimson liquid, an elixir, one of the miracle drugs that could bring a dying man back to life. She pressed it against their lips and cursed.
The modified individuals wedged themselves and formed a wall that protected the three.
“Don’t you dare go dying on me you little wenches. I promised I’d kill you myself.” She was crying as she took out a golden needle and a silver thread. She was going to stitch up their wounds. Suddenly her hands blurred as flesh and bone seemed to knit itself to shape.
As the woman healed the two, Sharlowe encased his fists in earth. He began punching the ghouls away beside his crew. They used hammers and picks of heated metal.
The necromancer stumbled a bit, focusing on the horned priest.
Father Ehrlen was busy offensively using his telepathy to jam the necromancer. A bad matchup since undead are naturally resistant to psychic attacks.
Madame Abesha was weaving a protective barrier, while her guards were busy supporting the others. They couldn’t use their full arsenal of poisons and were only restricted to using powerful muscle relaxants to incapacitate the seemingly endless waves of ghouls.
“Get down princess”
She ducked.
Noren blasted a cluster wand, unleashing a super heated laser that cleaved through the army. A spectacle of blue light and the smell of ozone filled the air as noren’s hand suffered the backlash.
Rokin took this chance to add his spell.
“GLACIEM ART: FROZEN GROUND”
Spikes of frost pinned the dead to the ground as ice dug into their bodies. This made it easy for Noren to focus his blasts.
A second Necromancer saw this and formed a forcefield to protect them. Cracks in the wall spread out like spiderwebs. Annoyed by this, a third necromancer cast another spell.
WALL OF BODIES
Suddenly a wave of corpses appeared and took the brunt of the arcane chaos. Carbonized flesh took the brunt of the blast and left noren exhausted.
Her system blessed rogue and Vag rath fell from the ceiling wile brandishing silver tipped knives and repeatedly stabbed one of the necromancers. It screamed as it’s form burned in holy fire.
BONE FIELD
One of the remaining two cast a spell that blocked the tunnel behind them with hypodermic needles.
Her druid saw this and slowly covered the field in grass padding.
“TERRAIN CHANGE”
The two remaining saw this and took out a crimson gem.
A summoning stone. No!
They crushed it and summoned two demon brutes, large hulking horned warriors that could crush a man with ease. They had blood red flesh and weapons made for cruelty. Wings that allowed them to fly over hostile terrain and hooves that allowed them to quickly reach their target.
They immediately brandished a spear and one of them shot a spear straight through Noren’s intestines. Another grabbed Sharlowe and flung him across the wall. Father Ehrlen flung them through the walls with a psychic lash, unfortunately the necromancers took this opportunity to direct their ghouls to his direction.
Aven and Colita got up near an exhausted Bertra. The two suddenly blitzed near the ghouls and took out spools of string and sown their limbs shut. They kept a veritable number of ghouls pre-occupied.
Alicia got close to Noren and took out one of her emergency potions out of a secret compartment in her hair. She removed the spear and made him drink.
Alicia think, think! How can she get them all out here.
The two demon brutes recovered and got up. They focused their sight on Alicia.
Shit!
Then two finger sized holes penetrated the skulls of the demons.
A new person stepped inside the room. A woman with bronze skin and fiery hair. She looked like a divine being, the very representation of nobility and valor. She had a piercing gaze and lips as soft as pillows. She looked magnificent and unattainable, like a sole lotus flower blooming in the muck of a swamp. She looked like purity made manifest. She was beautiful.
She strolled barefoot, smoking a pipe. She then spoke with a voice that made Alicia’s heart thump.
“I hope I’m not late to the party.”