In the rich tapestry of Al-Lazar’s Shareholder Houses, the House of Alim stands uniquely storied. Their ancestral tales whisper of a figure, known only as the Shield, a traveler from a realm distant and mystic. Beyond even the burning, treacherous waves of the Glass Fire Sea, the people of the long ago claim that her origins lie across a sea of the stars. On a world where mankind blossomed in the time of the ancients.
Legend suggests that this enigmatic woman, a slave, was a foundational pillar of Al-Lazar, instilling her otherworldly resilience into the bedrock of its inception. I believe that it is a truly flightful fancy that a woman was a founder of one of the Great Houses. However, House Alim commands respect and awe amongst its peerage. Every generation has produced formidable warriors that echo their legendary ancestor's might.
- The Fanciful Travels of Beron de Laney 376 AC.
Patience was a good a tool as any. A sharp blade, it was often mistaken for prevarication and hesitation. I was armed with patience-a-plenty. I was trying to keep perfectly still and the symphony of stolen energies continued to fill me. My spell had changed, improved and evolved. The deeper darkness of its tendrils, which only I could see, would on occasion, also latch onto hostiles near my initial target. Like the tendrils of a carnivorous plant, it spread and drained them of their essence. In short, it had a random area-of-effect now.
This was important, as the monster crabs themselves had only one point of Mana. With Drain using twice that, a single crab could not fuel another crab’s demise, which meant that I had to rely on my natural rate of regeneration. Despite my Mana Regeneration skill, the whole process was still painfully slow.
Foolishly, I was indiscriminate in my use of the spell, and soon enough, some of the badly wounded crabs began to fall. Stupidly, the males continued to battle each other, but now some of the smaller specimens, perhaps the females, pulled their corpses to the shores of the underground lake and began to devour their remains.
One of the males, weakened by my magic, had grown lethargic, his movements lazy and leaden. His opponent, a smaller but faster crustacean, saw that his strength was flagging, and moved to pin him down with both of his fearsome claws. Somehow, the defeated monster signaled submission, causing the victor to release him.
It was not nature’s way to kill in contests such as these. If contests such as this resulted in death then it would be an overall loss for the species. No, these competitions were merely displays of strength, designed to attract females and to produce strong spawn. but neither I nor my magic cared anything for that. The loser was consumed by my dark magic and I received my experience, fueling my progress.
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Without any drama or fanfare, I earned my next level, driving me to level thirteen. A most auspicious number. Needing a boost in my magical abilities, I placed all my attribute points into Intelligence and the single skill point into the Mana Regeneration. This resulted in a clear result of an extra two points of Mana, but it would be difficult for me to measure the exact effect of my improved Mana Regeneration. Still, it was just what I needed. Idly, I regretted not bringing my potions on my outing. However, knowing my Luck, and the general unfairness of this world, had I done so, they would have probably been ruined in my descent to this dark place.
Glancing at Zala, I saw that, like me, she was perfectly still, blending almost perfectly with the rocky environs. I surmised that as a Scout, she would be used to long periods of inaction. Since beginning my slow one-man-war against the chitinous terrors, I had completely lost track of time. I felt no tiredness, and with no sun, nor any other heavenly body to mark the passage of time, the only thing I could rely on was my slowly depleting reserves of Mana to measure it out.
While I wrecked slow corruption upon this generation’s shelled youth, I found myself thinking about the fate of my real companions. The goddess had mentioned that they were making their way to my location, but where was this exactly? And how far had we traveled from Iasis’ temple? What of Laes and the people of the caravan? It would be most inconvenient for me should the worm have attacked them. Certainly, the nights would be a little colder if this had come to pass.
But these were thoughts for another day, as yet another monster fell and gifted me yet more empowering experience. Zala turned her head to face me. Her expression was unclear, but I imagined the thoughts that must be going through her head. I had not touched them, yet the Ghostwalker were falling one by one. To her, who could not see the black energies of my spell, it must have seemed that a curse was wrecking slow disaster through their ranks.
Good, I thought to myself. Let her know fear, and that this would be her fate should she try betrayal. It was, after all, better to be feared than loved.
As I was doing my best impression of a statue for such a long time, I thought I would have developed a cramp, but the constant invigoration made that possible fate a lie. Everything felt so clear, and the world was at a higher resolution. I could even smell the metallic content of the water, for it was stained with fresh blood.
Stupid as these creatures were, even they came to understand that this area was dangerous. Aggression, mixed with the savage urge to reproduce, was a most dangerous cocktail. The deaths, rather than dulling their instinct to mate, drove the remaining males to greater heights. The smaller surviving males, to be exact, for I had made it a point to specifically target the larger ones first.
I waited there, as insidious and as implacable as cancer, keeping five Mana in reserve and casting a new Drain whenever I could. A part of my mind drifted here and there, sifting through scattered memories of a different time. Of a different place. Even with my improved Intelligence, it was as if a heavy veil had been placed over certain parts of my recollections. Certain details I could view with greater clarity, but others floated just out of grasp. That was what time in a barbaric world would do to you. It would try to reduce you to being one of them.