Ghurn shivered in the cold of the frozen mountain cavern. Humans weren’t meant for this kind of cold and even though he wore a fur lined coat his robes were drafty by nature. He five months ago he had achieved his class after twenty years of guided training from the imperial mages guild. He was now a Force Mage and an elevated member of society.

Everyone knew mages were above almost everyone else. Even martials of the same level couldn’t stand against him and his reality based constructs. It had been a grind to reach here and he wasn’t a prodigy or anything like that and he had worked his ass off. It wasn’t arrogance to recognize his achievements.

The last thing he expected was for the emperor to fall to betrayal from within. When the sundering happened Ghurn did not know what to expect. He was the third child of a minor noble house which his sister would inherit, a sister he remembered with little fondness. So he stayed within the guild and waited to see what would happen.

Little ended up changing as the imperial mages guild were clearly accomplices in the usurping.

How else would the tsunken aelves avoid the imperial blood curse? Such old magic could only be circumvented with the assistance of the guild.

Ghurn knew the archmages had something to do with it and that proved itself in how easily the archmages maintained and consolidated their control over the magical societies and infrastructure that were scattered about the empire after the sundering.

Running and trying to be an independent mage would prove to be a fruitless endeavor as you were eventually hunted down and killed or captured by the guild.

So he stayed and his loyalty was rewarded with freedom and authorized growth.

Now he was here, in dangerous situation after dangerous situation, but it was worth it.

It was so hard to get experience in the capital. But out on adventure? Reward and danger walked hand in hand.

A halfling woman approached Ghurn, she wore enchanted robes, embroidered with magical threads and beset with gemstones, she offered him a steaming cup of ska.

“Larka,” he greeted her, accepting the cup and taking a sip, enjoying its sweet earthy flavour. He marvelled at how creamy and smooth she always managed to make it. “Thanks.”

She smiled at him. Larka was a upper halfling noble so technically she had seniority over him but he was human so it evened out and led to them having a pretty good friendship with each other. The ska just made it that much better.

“By Kynairos’ sweaty ballsack, it's cold out.”

Larka snickered and gently punched his “Oh be quiet it's not that bad and being out in the shit is part of the glory. Prestige shouldn’t come easy ”

“I guess not, no. Still sucks that we're out here guarding the rear against those idiotic rats instead of witnessing the ritual. The only reason any of us are out here is because the archmages are busy with more important aspects of Juthe-Wei’s project. Otherwise they’d be out here.”

Larka sighed. “Yeah, That's fine! I would rather be here than cooped up at the guild, how else are we to progress unless we fight! I’ve received more experience in these last few weeks than the past two years at the guild’s grounds.“

Ghurn didn’t agree. “Yes, but it's dangerous to hunt levels. Last time you got hurt it took you two weeks to heal because you didn’t want to pay for healing. And it's cold!”

“I don’t mind taking time to heal! Its good studying time and who cares about the co-HUUURRK!”

Everything slowed down as Larka shifted violently to the side. Impaled by a stone spike jutting out from her side.

She screamed. She was put some points into constitution but Ghurn could see the massive damage the single spike caused.

He moved to help her but an arrow slammed home into her chest and with a final grasp at nothing she fell limp.

Their camp exploded into movement and Ghurn went to put some cover between him and the direction of the arrow.

His guards came to shield his body and block him from projectiles. The slight relief they brought evaporated as Ghurn saw a shadowy mist move amongst the other mages.

The mist materialized in a humanoid for only a moment before unleashing a devastating maneuver. Blood flowed as the knives of the tsunken aelf plunged deep.

A confusion took hold of Ghurn. Why did a tsunken aelf fight against them? Did they displease Juthe-Wei?

It did not matter for a man approached. Covered in armor his gauntleted hands weaved the sigils and executed his guards one by one. Stone spikes erupting through them in a callous sequence.

Ghurn cast a Mana Pilliar only for the condensed fragments of imperfection to be backhanded away by the armored man. The spell flying off to blast itself through another imperial mage.

That was his most powerful spell, and the mad had treated it so… dismissively. So Ghurn ran. He focused on his force magic skill and extended his senses.

It wasn’t truly Mana Sense of any kind but it allowed an intimate understanding of the areas surrounding physics.

He could sense the earth transmute and from that knowledge, know when to dodge.

It barely worked, allowing Ghurn to avoid three spikes in a row.

He chanced a look back to see the man easily closing the distance with violent hops. To his sides his friends and allies were under attack from what looked like imperial soldiers.

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“By Kynairos,” he gritted under his breath. Then he multicast three mana darts. His wisdom and intelligence were high and that meant his mana pool and mana regen were up to the task the man presented. Three darts would put down almost anyone but an evolved human or a constitution fighter.

Even still he wouldn’t be able to take the damage and perform as if he was unscathed.

This salvo would cripple him.

But the man’s gauntlets glowed white and he reached forward, easily catching two of Ghurn’s Mana Darts while allowing the third one to slam home into his chest.

It struck yet, the man didn’t flinch, he just grunted out a cough of blood before landing and launching himself at the mage.

Fear rose within Ghurn at seeing the relentless pursuit. There was a single mindedness that reminded Ghurn of the predators of the academy.

And Ghurn fled.

At least he tried to. Ghurn turned but pain blossomed in his leg. His shin was on fire and he fell forward collapsing to the ground, seeing long crimson darts sticking out from his leg. He gazed upon them for but a moment as his attention was drawn above him. To the incoming falling man, covered in armor.

The stomp was something Ghurn would have never imagined happening to him. He never imagined his body would be violently compressed and folded. The man crushed Ghurn and his body. Leaving him broken. His body, crumpled and twisted and all he felt was pain. His perspective, skewed and immobile. The air left him and did not return.

The last thing his darkening vision caught was the metal clad figure jumping away. Drawing a screaming sword from his… from his…

***

You have killed level 11 Ghurn. Experience gained 563.

Six finished that one off. He had proven surprisingly slippery to take down after the halfling Six had initiated the battle with.

Six leapt over to the next mage and tossed the captured Mana Darts at them only to have the spells slapped with whips of water, a water user eh? Six landed and drew his chainsaw from his spatial before bringing it down in a vicious chop. The saw was halted by the liquid and Six marvelled that something like water could stop him until he put some throttle on and the teeth of his saw ripped right through the whips to sink deep into the mage’s flesh. The aquamancer screamed in panic and pain.

No one seemed prepared for the simple violence of the chainsaw.

It parted the man in twain, it all happened so fast.

A growing hunger demanded Six move, his blood sung as he pitted himself in the struggle for supremacy. These people, while no true enemies of his, stood in the way of his people’s rise. He supposed this was his first true act of imperialism, or perhaps it was the food he aggressively traded for.

He scoffed at himself in derision, his fall from idealism did not take long at all.

He grinned in enjoyment.

This next mage was a human woman, fine robes and zleenish numerals orbiting her head as her two martial guards stood to ward Six away.

She imbued them with some sort of numerical spell and sent them forth. Both wore well made medium armor, one wielded a long sword while the other had a hand axe. Both had shields emblazoned with a symbol that looked like something akin to three stars that increased in size, encompassed in a square. He supposed this was the heraldry of the imperial mages guild.

Six blasted a few stone spikes at her but she dodged back and forth effortlessly so he focused his efforts on the incoming guards.

They worked together to press him backwards. If the sword was not thrusting the axe was falling.

He managed one stone spike but they moved as effortlessly as their ward.

Six saw Nar approaching from the side and circled around casting a Stone Wall and splitting the two guards off from each other. Narhurin could handle the other one.

Six put his target between him and the wall before surging forth with a violent underhand golf swing.

The man was surprisingly good at batting Six’s chainsaw away and the longsword that the man used didn’t dull or chip, despite the whirring teeth of the saw. The crafter in Six wondered as to its material before the warrior in him commanded his focus.

He dodged like a boxer, weaving his head to and fro as Lump launched periodic blood darts. The man was trying to trade with thrusts of his long sword but Six was too slippery and yet the man was even slipperyier, managing to dodge all of Lump’s red darts.

Time to utilize something he couldn’t effectively dodge then.

Six bottomed out his mana with a maximum investment Force Wave that pushed the man ever so slightly off balance, a slight advantage Six leveraged with a questing kick to the man’s blocking arm, booting him into the transmuted stonewall. The guard collapsed to one knee.

Then Six crashed his chainsaw down with an open throttle. The saw screaming.

The man brought his sword up weakly only to have it torn from his hands.

The chain skipped off the metal of his pauldron before jumping across his gorget and into the flesh of his face tearing the top half of his head off in an explosive spray of blood. Six was coated in the red mist.

A net woven of arcane numbers fell over him and… did nothing. Weird.

He turned to see the mage looking confused as her spell had no effect. Confusion that brought fatal hesitation as Aclo’s daggers sunk into the side of her torso.

Still she stood, and her gaze took on the quality of a cornered animal and she brought up her hands to unleash arcane might.

But an arrow took her in the head and her arms fell limply back to her side. The spell failed. Her expression was still confused as the body collapsed with an impotent slough.

The dead subterranean city was quiet.

Six began to go through the pockets of the mages, placing all he found into his ring

Irduth began to argue with him but Six cut it off with a curt chop.

“This is nothing, these were just simple goons. You can literally have all their shit now if you really want but it counts as your picks.”

Irduth was fine with Six holding onto the loot for now.

All tracking signs pointed to a smaller party breaking off and going deeper into the city, towards the Tsunken Aelf palace. A ribbed spire of glittering facets and crumbling spines. So they headed there.

Six beheld it from street level and felt awe rise within him. This was a structure not unlike those from his old home, a twisting spiral of a skyscraper hiding within a hollow mountain. This imposing building was an artifact from an age long gone and it held that ancient aura of old sacredness that all wonders evoked.

Neat.

You have been inspired:

Skill increase:

Mansory Initiate - 16

Construction Initiate - 16

That was something new, skill levels for appreciating the work of dead craftsmen. Six wouldn’t complain about it.

He took a moment to call a break before entering the palace, they drank water and took a breather.

Six’s curiosity remained as he observed the remnants of art left behind. Pieces that were destroyed by the invading armies of Octario Advent. He whispered to Aclo, Bark and Narhurin. “Forgive me if this is rude. But may I ask, what do you know of your people?”

Nar shrugged. “I was raised human.”

Bark laughed. “Ummm, ahhh,... nothing.”

Aclo replied with a voice dripping in disdain. “We were evil and decadent. Much like the K’gan of that time. Both our peoples warred and caused great harm to the land. The emperor brought us to heel and shaped us to serve the land like all inhabitants of Zarmul. Now, we, like the K’gan, honor our old ways by forsaking them. You know this Bark. Praise be Kynairos.”

Irduth muttered an involuntary, “praise be Kynairos.”

Bark smirked. “Aaaehhheh, no. Not really, no. That's just a,”he made a shooing gesture. “Story. You know?”

“It is no story!” whispered Aclo.

Bark shrugged.

It disturbed Six to see a people so clearly forcibly divorced from their culture, so doggedly fixed on a manufactured belief, but it wasn’t the first time he’d seen such things. It happened all across his old world.

An idealistic part of himself considered ultimate freedom of thought as a keystone of any community.

What he considered his pragmatic side knew that some thoughts or philosophies were simply incompatible with how he viewed things on a fundamental scale and refused to co-exist with such beliefs.

It was arbitrary, subjective. Meaningless in the grand scheme of his vision.

Yet he still felt disturbed.

He stood. “Let's go.”

They entered through the massive wooden doors that sat ajar and carefully explored with Aclo scouting ahead.

Along long hallways they walked, delving deeper and deeper down this one road.

They stopped when Aclo appeared from the shadows.

“They are in what I believe the royal audience chamber, in the middle of performing a ritual,” he whispered

Six suppressed any reaction as the mission’s timer became even more urgent and accurate. He nodded and gestured for Aclo to continue.

There is a full four guardsmen, three mages, and what I think to be an evolved mage and his blood golem.

Oh? He has something like Lump, eh?

“No, it's a giant thing, a melded flesh bag of random parts and races. Its gigantic.”

“Abomination,” Six breathed.

Aclo nodded.

“How we gonna deal with that?”

“I don’t know, I thought you might know.

Six thought for a bit and sighed. “Gigantic?”

Aclo nodded.

Six breathed deep and gathered himself. This trope was bound to happen eventually… probably won’t be the last time either. “Ok. Here’s the plan.”