Count Randeau crashed into the wall at the top of the steps. As the infamous monster hunter started to shake off the blow, Azbetk charged over him and onto the second floor. Hah’roo leapt upwards as well. Joe followed quickly after them, taking the stairs two at a time. Howls and shouts came from the room above. Joe lunged forward and slapped a hand to Valloc’s arm.
You have restored 5% of Valloc Randeau’s lost health. His current health is at 88%.
Joe felt a tremble run down his spine. Count Randeau was a level forty-something superstar and Sougath just tore off a sixth of his health. This fight was seriously out of his league. He kept healing while he peeked his head over the edge of the floor. Candles and torchlight allowed him to finally get his first look at the creature they were hunting.
The Night Skinner was a shaggy long-limbed humanoid. It stood hunched over but it was at least six feet high even then. If it reared up it would be well over eight feet tall. The monster was covered in dark thick fur. Elongated fingers were tipped in vicious looking talons that were dripping blood. When it spun to face Azbekt, Joe saw its face was that of a demonic twisted wolf. Werewolf immediately came to mind but the creature was that and much more. Intelligence and vicious menace burned from its blood-red eyes.
When Azbetk charged, the creature nimbly slid away from the attack and raked its claws down the paladin’s back. The platemail covering the dwarf screeched beneath the talons but prevented the strike from reaching the skin below. Sougath lashed out with a clawed foot and sent the dwarf flying into the far wall. Joe guessed that was the same maneuver the creature had used on the Count.
Hah’roo flipped in front of the beast, distracting it. As she spun over the center of the room, Joe became aware of a gruesome sight.
In the middle of the floor was a ritual circle, which contained the partially flayed body of a young man. Candlesticks with crimson tapers and metal bowls filled with blood surrounded the body. Joe quickly activated his wound-sight. As he feared, the body had no sense of life remaining in it. Yet it was not a dull empty husk. A churning red corruption boiled within the corpse. Disgust caused Joe’s stomach to knot up. The murders were one thing. Seeing the torn, defiled victim writhing with venomous taint was something else entirely.
Azbekt charged back into the fray. Meeting the attack, the monstrous creature hooked its claws and swung at the paladin’s face. A rope flashed out of the corner of the room, snagging the giant werewolf's wrist and halting the strike that might have blinded the paladin. The momentary hitch in the strike allowed the dwarf to get a gauntlet up to protect himself. In that instant, as the creature’s arm was locked still, Joe’s eyes were drawn to the creature's palm. There he saw a pitch-black circle filled with motes of golden light. The Mark of the Moon flickered in the middle of that monstrous taloned hand.
The Night Skinner followed the rope to where Hah’roo had looped her line around one of the room’s support beams. It yanked hard on the line, clearly expecting to break the weapon or the woman’s grip. Instead, the rope dancer flipped around the timber and let out more slack. Caught off balance the creature flailed its arm. Hah’roo used the opening to flick the coil up over the wolf-like ears, settling it around his neck.
Sougath went berserker thrashing and yanking at the rope. Hah’roo turned almost every furious movement into another entanglement. Soon she had one of the beast’s arms virtually tied to its chest. The rope must have been enchanted. The beast's claws were sharp enough to leave furrows in Azbekts armor, yet they were unable to slice through her braided cord.
Count Valloc regained his feet and was hurling darts. Each of his missiles was coated in some nasty-looking substance. The first couple were slathered with a bright toxic green paste. The next four had dark tarry goop on them. The darts hung in the creature’s fur but Joe could not see any wounds where they had struck. It was as if the points had hit solid steel, not shag-covered skin.
With the monster partially bound and pelted with various toxic projectiles, Azbekt was free to go to town on the brute. His axe smashed into one kneecap after the other. The legs would twist and horrible cracking sounds would issue from the blow but, before the dwarf could swing again, the limb would snap back into place.
Even though they had not yet landed a killing blow, Joe was amazed at how well the team was overwhelming the monster.
Sougath screamed in fury. As the hellish howl filled the room the mark on the creature’s palm grew brighter, releasing a flickering amber glow. As the sound smashed into him, Joe’s heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest. Terror flooded through every inch of him. Joe lost control of his mind and body as he became absolutely certain the beast was going to rip them to shreds and devour their souls. He tried to breathe but his lungs felt locked in ice.
He watched Hah’roo tumble from the air, falling in a heap on the wooden floor. She curled into a trembling fetal ball at the abomination’s feet. Her hands released her rope, allowing the lupine monster to start working itself free. Azbekt too had dropped his weapon and had fallen to his knees. His deep red skin looked practically ashen. The dwarf slammed his hand against his helmet once, twice, and a third time, trying to drive off the horror of his indisputable doom.
As Joe turned to flee, a familiar grip took hold of his shoulder once again. “We got this,” the Count assured in a voice filled with warmth and confidence.
[Hero’s Faith] is attempting to remove the Frightened condition from you. You are no longer Frightened.
Most of the crippling fear washed away and Joe felt utterly ashamed of himself. He had been less than a second from leaving these people to die. Hah’roo who had saved his life and shown him nothing but kindness was about to die as the last of her rope dropped off the werewolf. Meanwhile, Joe was cowering on the stairs, unable to even try and help. He cringed at his own failing.
“No time for that, son. We all have been hit with a terror effect at one time or another. Shake it off and do what you can.” Count Randeau squeezed his shoulder again, this time with a stern force behind it. Releasing him, Valoc leapt up and dashed back into the melee.
Joe steeled his nerves and called on his mana. He focused on one of Sougath’s legs and cast.
Sougath the Night Skinner has resisted your [Deadened Flesh]
“Damn it!”
Sougath the Night Skinner has resisted your [Deadened Flesh]
Sougath the Night Skinner has resisted your [Deadened Flesh]
Sougath the Night Skinner has resisted your [Deadened Flesh]
The creature’s resistance was too high for his spell to overcome. Joe felt helpless watching the demon wolf reach for Hah’roo.
The Count slid under the werewolf’s slashing claws, striking out with his saber-like sword. Sougath ignored the Count’s attacks, instead focusing on the prone form of Hah’roo. Azbekt shakily crawled forward, trying to get himself between the monster and the galeling, but it was clear he would not make it before the beast ripped open the rope dancer.
Joe panicked but this new fear was his own, not the monster’s. It was filled with determination, not dread. The need to help Hah’roo kick away the last of the mind-consuming terror.
He called forth his new blue hand and grabbed the closest copper ceremonial bowl next to the beast. He flipped it upward hurling the blood mostly onto the Slayer’s chest but a decent amount hit it in the face too. Joe then slapped the vessel down, repeatedly clanging it against the floor. The blood and sound caused the monstrosity to turn and look for another assailant.
Joe took advantage of his distraction and cast. He stretched out his arm and nailed the prone woman with a [Purge] and then again on Azbekt.
Hah’roo shuddered. She opened her eyes to see the deadly clawed toes just a foot from her face. Slapping her hand against the ground, she released a burst of wind that blew out the candles on the floor and caused the torches on the wall to flicker wildly. Riding the wave of air, the dancer rolled through the gust backward, launching herself out of Sougath’s reach.
Azbekt’s head snapped up and he grabbed his axe and charged.
Joe’s head swam for a second after the mana drains of futility spamming [Deaden Flesh] and then the quick pair of [Purges]. Thankfully, the charm on his wrist rapidly ticked his mana back up. By the time he blinked away the dizziness, the battle had been fully rejoined once more.
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Count Valloc and Hah’roo snapped off a series of quick hand signs that Joe instinctively understood thanks to the knotted charm on his wrist. The duo began to circle the wolfen giant. Ironically, the pair began to harry Sougath the way a pack of wolves would assault a bear. Each would dart in, while the other distracted the prey. They would feign a blow or foil one of the monster’s attacks, occasionally making solid strikes.
Azbekt on the other hand had zero subtlety. Trusting his armor to shield him, the paladin hammered away with his axe. Steam or smoke started to rise from the dwarf, as if his molten-looking skin and flame-colored hair were not just features, but signs of an elemental heritage.
The beast managed to tag Valloc again, rending open the Count’s side. It then used the opening to boot Azbekt again, sending the dwarf flying head over heels into the far wall. Hah’roo was left with no choice but to dodge. The beast's reach was too long for her to avoid completely. A claw hooked her thigh, spraying an arc of blood across the floor. She managed to evade the following swipe, barely keeping her distance from the savage creature.
Joe took a deep breath and fixed his vision on a spot of the floor right behind Count Radneau, where a couple of old barrels would offer him some cover. He could heal at range but it would take him far more time and mana than if he did so by touch. The area zoomed into focus and suddenly he was there. He crouched down and activated [Stealth].
A hostile entity has detected you. You are not hidden.
Joe had hoped that the creature would be too busy diving around the room after the elusive rope fighter to notice, but Sougath clearly sensed his movement. When the beast spoke, Joe nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Give up little worms. You cannot stop what I am becoming. The Empire of the Wolf has been foretold and I shall be its God King. Run now and I may forgive this intrusion. Stand and I will carve off your flesh and bind your souls in sacrifice.”
The werewolf’s voice was a deep grinding growl. It was filled with tones of hunger and hate. Joe again felt the weight of dread pushing down on him.
“Nay!” Azbekt barked from across the room. “You are a vile abomination. I swear to the Lord of Order, I will end you and your whole sickening line from this land. Your unholy existence ends here and now, fiend.”
A dark laugh broke free from the creature’s fanged mouth. Joe reached forward to heal the Count, figuring he would not be noticed while the two megalomaniacs jousted verbally. He was wrong. Before his fingers touched Valloc’s coat, the great snaggy brute rounded on him, red eyes pinning him. It growled at him with its voice of nightmares.
“You reek of fear, little man. Move again and I will end your pathetic existence.”
Joe could feel the aura of terror fill the room and saw the Mark of the Moon start to glow again. Suddenly a slick slippery sensation blossomed out of Joe’s right arm. He looked down and saw his own inky black mark flow out and across his skin. Hidden behind the barrels, the motes of gold swam in the blackness. The ebon blot grew into an amorphous shape that covered about half of Joe’s forearm. The stain stopped growing but the cool sensation continued outward, spreading across his whole body and causing a chilled shiver to run down his spine.
The Mark of Death has transformed one of your abilities. Your [Stealth] skill has become [Sanctuary] for the duration of this encounter.
You have acquired the advanced skill: [Sanctuary]. For 30 seconds plus 5 seconds for each skill rank you have with this skill, you cannot be targeted by skills, traits, or items. You are also shielded from most non-damage-based area effects. You typically can only be perceived passively. Creatures will not walk into you but they will be unlikely to truly take note of you. If you choose to affect any creature other than yourself or a bound companion or familiar the sanctuary effect ends. Cost: Moderate Mana.
Instinctively Joe threw mana at the gifted skill. An instant later he watched as everyone’s heads twisted about trying to find where he had vanished to. Joe had not yet moved but clearly, the others could no longer see him. The Night Skinner lifted his nose to the air and huffed a deep breath. His face scrunched into an angry sneer. Joe guessed [Sanctuary] must block all senses, not just sight, as invisibility would.
“I know your scent, coward!” the monster shouted. “Teleporting away will not save you.” He turned to the others. “Now I will not spare any of you. The ritual will be done before the weakling can rally anyone to face me.”
Joe laid down completely behind the barrels and placed a finger just barely touching the Count’s leg. As quickly as he could, he poured a handful of [Healing Touches] into the man.
Your action has ended [Sanctuary].
He could tell the Count was aware of him but being the collected professional he was, the nobleman gave no indication of it. As soon as he had topped off the monster-hunter’s health, he rewrapped himself in the Sanctuary spell and moved away. The Mark-altered magic was not a game changer, since it would not allow him to heal inside his virtual invisibility, but he could now move around without worrying about being one-shotted by the giant wolf-beast.
He watched as Hah’roo and the Count began to circle the demon wolf once more. Azbekt again stepped forward. Joe was not sure if this would break the sanctuary effect but he flipped to wound-sight to see what shape the dwarf and Hah’roo were in. No message popped up telling him he had dispelled [Sanctuary] so it looked like he could affect himself and remain hidden. His Perception spell really targeted himself, even though he used it to look at others.
Abekt looked fairly healthy. Most paladins had healing abilities, so it was likely the fanatic had healed himself already. Joe had just healed the Count. Hah’roo was in the worst shape. She had several cuts and Joe could see stressed and strained muscles where the acrobatic fighter had had to match her strength against Sougath’s.
Joe then turned his vision to the creature they faced. His heart dropped into his stomach. The Night Skinner had some reddish-tinted bruises on the surface of his hide but the beast bore not a single deep wound. There were really no wounds at all. Nothing the trio had done had broken through Sougath’s skin, not the count’s darts or saber, not Hah’roo’s rope-dart, not even Azbekt's massive axe.
“It’s not working!” he hollered. Joe was about to elaborate when he realized that not a single one of them had reacted at all to his shout. ‘Did [Sanctuary] block not only sight but sound as well?’ Guessing it did, Joe dashed back behind more clutter and dropped the cloaking spell.
“You guys are not hurting him!” he shouted. “Nothing is wounding him at all!”
A sense of dread filled the air around him. Even though he was out of sight, he knew the monstrosity was focused on where he had hidden himself. The Skinner now knew he had not fled after all.
Terror, once more filled Joe. This time far worse than before. It kept pouring over him, trying to drag him down like an undertow.
“No,” Joe growled. “Not this time.”
[Purge] has removed the Frightened affliction from yourself.
Your skill [Purge] has increased to rank 5.
The force of the crushing terror swamped right back over him, driving Joe to his knees. He could hear sounds on the other side of the barrels but it was all he could do to fight through the fear he was drowning in. Inside his head, Joe scrambled to push his mana into [Purge] once more. This time he failed. He was unable to get around the weight of Sougath’s presence bearing down on him.
Joe slapped his left hand over the slick black blob enveloping his arm. Gathering every last drop of his flagging determination, he focused everything he had left on the Thirteenth Mark. His forearm chilled again and then became warm, after which it seems to grow exceptionally heavy. Finally, it sent a clanging vibration running through his whole body. It was like a hammer striking an anvil; loud and unyielding.
The Mark of Death has transformed one of your abilities. Your [Iron Mind] trait has become [Iron Will] for the duration of this encounter.
[Iron Will]: You have Major Resistance against Fear and Charm effects.
The pressure fell away. His eyes focused once more. In this battle, he was happy to trade his beguilement defense, for protection from fear.
Joe peeked through the kegs and saw his allies had also been struggling under the were-beast’s prophetic empowered terror. Even Count Randeau had dropped his weapons and was clutching at his chest this time. The only saving grace was Sougath’s entire focus was on his crushing aura of dread. The party was virtually helpless but the beast had not yet been able to capitalize on the fearsome paralysis it was inflicting. The Skinner had not yet noted that Joe had slipped free.
[Purge] has removed the Frightened affliction from Count Valloc Randeau.
Your skill [Purge] has increased to rank 6.
[Purge] has removed the Frightened affliction from Hah’roo.
[Purge] has removed the Frightened affliction from Azbekt VanderAxe.
Your skill [Purge] has increased to rank 7.
Souagth sensed the change. Just as the creature realized its layers of terror had been unraveled, a long silver dagger appeared in the Count’s hand. The argent blade lashed across the hairy chest, and for the first time that night, Sougath bled. A gout of deep red blood sprayed from the wound.
Of course, they needed silver. Relief flooded through Joe. They had a chance. If he could counter the monster's horrific aura, the Count could kill the beast while the other two gave him cover.
The Night Skinner must have come to a similar conclusion. Unfortunately, its black heart came up with a different answer. The beast stood up tall for the first time, raising its great arms so high they brushed against the ceiling. The brute drove down its fists, smashing them into the floor with the force of an avalanche. The old beams shattered, and the floorboards disintegrated, dropping all of them in a rain of wooden shards and broken planks into the room below.