As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the city skyline, a beautiful young woman found herself perched on the edge of a towering skyscraper. Her pale feet dangled precariously in the air, contrasting against the rainbow of cars and dull blackness of the asphalt that laid over one hundred meters below.
A white sundress hung loosely over her petite figure, billowing like smoke over a flame. From far away, she was indistinguishable from the puffy gray-white of a cloud.
Taking a moment to absorb the breathtaking scene before her, she couldn't help but be struck by the sheer beauty of the city’s sun-soaked visage. The vibrant colors of the sunset, the way the light danced across the glass facades of the buildings, and the way the city stretched out before her like an industrial tapestry.
For a fleeting moment, she forgot all about her fear and simply took in the view. Her heart raced as she gazed down at the dizzying height, the wind tugging at her hair and clothes, whispering breathy threats to pull her off the ledge.
Then, as if in slow motion, she felt herself begin to slip, her grip on the edge of the building faltering.
She fell, briefly suspended in the air, before gravity took control. The girl couldn't help but stare at her reflection in the millions of mirrors that flew past, now parallel to her own falling frame.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as she hurtled through the air, the wind whipping past her face, the ground rushing up to meet her.
Her eyes closed, lids pressed tight. The wind tore at her ears and clawed at her skin, cutting away at her mortal coil, pleading with her to open them again... but she did not.
In her final moments on Earth, she splayed a desperate right hand, fighting against the almighty strength of the world's pull.
"Save me," she whispered.
She grasped at the abyss, and the abyss grasped back.
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Somewhere, very far away, in the deepest part of Alonzia’s ancient forest, a terrible and foreboding darkness crept.
Monsters, they were, their moonlit silhouettes each a little more than three meters tall. They possessed countless rows of razor-sharp teeth, jagged edges spiraling deep into their steaming mouths.
The hell-spawn wreaked havoc, devouring everything in their path. Having already claimed countless farmland crops and animals as their sustenance, their maws hungered for the inhabitants of the vulnerable town that lay ahead.
Alone, a single warrior, armed with naught but his leather-wrapped fists, walked within the shadows of a tall oak.
The man ventured deep into the woods, guided by the eerie sounds of the slithering predators.
As he drew closer to the rumbling’s epicenter, he could vaguely make out the gnashing of serrated teeth. The ground trembled beneath the monsters' massive bodies.
He steeled himself, his fists clenched air-tight, and stepped into the clearing where the fiends had gathered.
There, he witnessed the horrifying creatures, towering over him like grotesque, writhing pillars. They were titanic worms, a horde of nightmarish, pulsing mounds of flesh. Their beady eyes fixed upon him one by one, spotting their newest meal.
And with a collective, guttural hiss, they charged.
The warrior leapt toward the beasts, right fist cocked to his ear. The first worm lunged at him with its mouth agape, ready to swallow the man not whole, but in shredded strips of his former self. Yet, this is not what the monster received.
With a swift and decisive strike, the warrior blew the beast's head from its body in a flash of blue light.
Blood and guts sprayed forth like a geyser, marking the battle’s first kill.
Emboldened, the warrior continued to lunge at the monstrosities, each swing of his fist expertly finding its mark. To his right, he blew a hole through the base of a worm’s underbelly, its guts flying out the exit wound. To the left he spun and kicked, and the monster was torn in half.
The blows he threw were fierce and deadly, but the worms, still, were relentless. They attacked from all sides, their numbers seemingly endless. For every beast that fell, another appeared to take its place.
Sweat poured down the man’s brow, fear starting to set in, but he fought on, determined to stop their rampage before it involved more than just cattle and livestock.
The man’s movements became a furious blur, his limbs ripping away at the assailants’ flesh.
One by one, the worms were subjected to piercing strikes and cutting blows. Intestines were annihilated, teeth shattered and split, skin lacerated like a hot knife through butter. It was a butchery, a slaughter; nothing short of carnage.
The worms, sensing the tide of the battle turning against them, grew more ferocious and cunning. They began to coordinate their attacks, attempting to blindside the warrior at every opportunity. Their sheer numbers made it so those opportunities were plentiful.
Slowly but surely, their strikes began to hit their marks. When the warrior was distracted with one, another bit at his leg. When his leg was bitten, another sprayed acid into his chest.
Over and over, the man killed them as they came.
But he was dying. His armor bubbled with acid and his skin was cut to ribbons. The worms had landed far too many fatal blows. His movements slowed, and his breaths grew ragged. He knew the battle had gotten too close to feasibly come out alive.
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This is where he’d make his last stand.
The warrior, knowing that these were his final moments, felt such regret. Such fear. He was anguished at his inadequacy; his inability to fulfill even this simple quest, much less his dreams.
In his frustration, his strikes were filled with hate and anger, despaired at his own weakness. Flashes of blue light lit up the dark sky, sparking and receding beneath the leaves of the tall oak trees. Blood stained the forest, painting everything a fresh coat of crimson. But as his vision faded and the last worm was killed, his eyes filled with tears, washing away the blood of his deceased foes.
The man crumpled to the forest floor—and there was silence.
…
And from that silence, came a voice. The voice that had called to them, beckoned the two to their demise.
It began as a whisper, slithering into space like a serpent, hissing all the while. The murmur of exhaled breaths. A pitch black background roiled and stirred, filling the vast void with naught but the sound of its rasp. It said:
‘Tragic...’
Its wicked smile split the space in two, waterfalls of grime filling the space in its rift. A thousand black hands pushed from the muck of the abyss above its oily, viscous surface. Six molten holes formed in its base, glowing like suns against the vast darkness of the universe, shining searchlights wherever they turned.
‘Their despair, so powerful…so delectable…’
Slowly rotating, the spectral glow touched upon the mangled corpses of two unfortunate humans, searing their flesh with a harsh light. Under the light’s duress, their bodies hardened, softened, molded, and gave form to repairs. The thousand black hands crashed against its sculptures like water, dyeing them a deep black in its deluge.
The abyss shuddered and shook as it formed a simple, but clear thought.
‘How could I choose just one?’
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When I awoke, I was lying on the ground.
A soft pool of red stuck to my clothes, tickling and licking at my skin. It melted and muddied the dirt, softening it, and allowing my body to sink ever-so-slightly into the earth. Stones hidden in the mud pressed into the muscle of my back, revealing to me that I could still, in fact, feel. Though I was feeling a little too much in this situation, I would say.
"Eugh…"
The pain I felt was excruciating, like someone had cast me in a stone furnace with too much force and far too much firewood.
I had no idea where I was or what happened to me. I could faintly remember my body feeling like it was being torn apart and then suddenly… everything had gone black. In fact, everything was still mostly black, save for two narrow slits.
Daring to wonder what lay beyond the curtain of my eyelids, I opened my eyes slowly.
As soon as the tiniest bit of sunlight graced the retina of my eye, my brain recoiled into the furthest regions of my skull.
"Oh my goddess…", I groaned.
I could feel my body ache in agreement.
And then, as if responding to my complaint, I could feel the shake of movement. A shadow obstructed the sun’s rays from assaulting my eyes, moving as a shield for my personal comfort. A voice–feminine, sharp, and mischievous– rang out in the air, startling me.
"Yes, how can I help you?"
The shadow spoke, silhouetted against the light of the moon. Eventually, as my eyes adjusted, I could just barely make out the features of my caretaker.
A lone figure knelt beside me, her hands glowing with a soft golden light.
She seemed to be a cleric of somesort, her hair brown and long, pulled back in a simple braid that fell over her shoulder. Her face was soft and filled with a gentle kindness; yet they were contrasted with deep-set, emerald eyes that sparkled with a sense of mischief. She wore a simple white tunic and trousers, with a holy symbol emblazoned on the chest - a silver sunburst that radiated with its own inner light.
As she tended to me, she hummed a soft prayer, the words whispered under her breath. Her fingers worked with a gentle skill, tracing the contours of my wounds and coaxing my body to heal.
The woman sighed.
"You’re not going to answer me, even after being addressed? How rude."
Wearing a difficult face, she leaned forward and peered into my eyes. I winced as her bright green eyes pierced me. They lingered there for a moment, then she shook her head and stood up. Reaching down to her clothing, she began to brush the dust off her tunic. Her work here was done.
"Your wounds will heal soon, just rest here. Don’t try anything like that again, lest I need to help you again."
The woman giggled, then turned to walk away, leaving her last sentence to hang in the air.
Her feet seemed to glide across the ground, carrying her away like a water strider across a long pond. I urged myself to stop her for nothing more than a thank you, but both my body and voice would not obey.
As her figure faded away into the darkness, power began to return to my limbs, as if her presence itself was suppressing my movement. Even with her gone, a faint, residual pain still poked at my nerves. Shaking off the minor affliction, I sat up slowly, trying to fend off the grogginess that clung to my every thought. Eventually, my mind began to clear, the clarity bringing forth potential for longer and more complex thought. And with that potential I said:
"Who the hell was that? Where am I?"
Upon a quick inspection, I concluded that I was, in fact, sprawled out in the middle of the forest. There was nobody around, and I had no memory of what had occurred prior.
Wonderful.
Racking my brain, I tried to remember what I was doing before I was nursed to health.
"Hmmmm…"
A few moments pass, and it comes back to me.
"Ah, right. The devilwyrm comm."
I had taken a commission to fight the pod of devilwyrms that popped up in the forest recently. Farmer Jerry was having trouble with them slaughtering his livestock, but nobody else in the Guild would take such a dangerous quest for so little pay. Except me, I guess.
"They must have really gassed me out if I'm just lying here," I said, talking to no one in particular.
I worried that I was getting a little too complacent, considering I easily could've been attacked by monsters during my sleep. How could I have just fallen asleep like that?
"Whatever."
At this point, I didn’t really care anymore. As long as I was alive, that was enough for me. No point in sweating the details now.
Straining my eyes in the darkness, I tried to examine my body for any open wounds. I found none, thankfully. However, mounds of scar tissue laid beneath the ragged and singed remains of my leather armor, telling me the fight really had been a little too close.
Yeah, I needed to find some party members as soon as possible.
'Doing this shit by myself is way too dangerous. I really will end up dead in a ditch if I don’t find a group soon.'
I brushed the dirt off my trousers, still sitting in my personally cultivated blood mud.
Having determined that I was fit for action once again, I pulled myself to my feet and began my trek back to town. Scanning around, I spotted the tattered remains of my defeated foes.
"Rest in pieces," I said, quickly beheading them and slipping them into my bag.
It was about time to get my reward. To the Adventurers’ Guild I returned.