‘He isn’t real, this is a trap.’ Exill repeated to himself while facing his long-lost friend and brother.
As if reading his thoughts, Verill’s eyes glittered with unshed tears, his smile turning bittersweet. Opening his mouth as if to speak, he faltered for a moment, admitting his situation.
“You are right… I am dead. Damn, they flanked and wiped us out, killing everyone who wouldn’t immediately submit to enslavement.” The Ranger looked down at the gaping hole in the midsection of his leather armour, the red stained tunic visible underneath, dripping with blood. “For me, even enslavement wasn’t a choice.” He confessed with sadness in his eyes.
“I had so much left to say to you…” His friend wavered while taking a slow step forward, struggling to remember his last thoughts. “You don’t know how much I regret not seeing the successful Healer you have become.”
Exill stepped back when Verill approached, trying to ignore the hurt expression on the advancing man's face. “Why did you go to such lengths to help me?” He asked the question to make sure it was really his friend, the tip of his spear trembling as it pointed at the Wraith.
“Can’t a stranger look out for his little brother?” Verill repeated what he had said, over a year ago with a rueful smile. “No… it wasn’t an act of charity. I simply saw my younger brother within you… do you remember how scared and disoriented you were?”
The Ranger shook his head, reflecting on their harrowing escape to Ark. “We were all scared, but I drew courage and strength to advance thanks to you. I saw my family in that Mist you know… I almost followed them, until I remembered that would mean leaving you behind, terrified, and alone. We saved each other that day. You owe me nothing.” Slow seconds dragged by as the two retreated in unison across the putrid cavern floor.
“... Are you really dead?” Exill finally asked with a wavering voice, no longer able to contain his tears.
Verill nodded, struggling too, as thin rivulets flowed down the stern face. There was a brief pause as Exill’s spear pressed against his chest. “I came to say goodbye” the Wraith whispered.
In the face of the anguish that gripped his heart, Exill activated [Weak Point] and [Steady Hand] and watched the glowing spear pierce the advancing Ranger’s breastplate and plunge into his chest. The sound of snapping bones could be heard when the spear embedded itself, followed by a wet sucking noise.
“I’m so sorry…” Exill wept as Verill fell to his knees, a hand still outstretched as if to reach for one last touch. He stepped back, pulling the spear out, letting his friend collapse to the side.
Amidst the guilt enveloping his mind, the throbbing sensation from the egg sac escalated, and Exill heard skittering noises emanating from the passageways around him. [Appraise] revealed there were two out of three uses left on the Blessed Spear.
There was no time to grieve, only righteous anger for desecrating the memory of his friend. Feeling the situation begin to unravel, he set aside his guilt, channelling fury into the bloodied spear. He stepped forward to throw the javelin with all his might into the egg sac high above.
The glowing spearhead impaled the target with a grisly thunk. The rhythmic beating ceased immediately, and the membrane slowly split open, releasing a torrential afterbirth. A writhing mass of foetal limbs fell down from above, along with the spear. Exill leapt forward to yank the waving haft out before dealing the finishing blow.
The thrashing miscarriage quickly withered and melted into the floor, the decay spreading quickly throughout the cavern. Spotting a shiny shard of glittering metal, he picked it up and pocketed it, having no time for second thoughts. The sound of skittering insect feet escalated around him.
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To his rear, the corpse of Verill was no longer visible, but instead, Father Jonas staggered out of the passageway. “Quick! Do you still have the flask of blessed water on you?” The Priest croaked in a weak voice.
Exill unhitched the flask from his belt and uncorked it, finding the blessed water still glowing inside. He passed it to the Priest who immediately sprinkled it around them in a wide circle, wheezing wearily while chanting rites of protection.
Before the ritual could be completed, a wave of skittering insects rippled down the passageways and started circling the two survivors. Exill tried his best to fend them off but a huge slobbering beetle slipped past his defences, who then nipped and tore at his leg with its cadaverous mandible.
Fortunately, Father Jonas completed the circle in time and collapsed on his rear. The insects chittered angrily as chunks of flesh fell from the ceiling, unable to cross the spirit barrier etched into the syrupy flesh of the cavern floor.
Time became meaningless in the face of the chaotic decay surrounding them. Exill limped back, wounded from the leg bite, and worried that one of the larger abominations would leap over the barrier.
The night sky was the first thing to become visible of the outside, tiny pinpricks of familiar light dotting the empyrean heavens. Minutes passed and soon, even the walls dissolved into a black tarry substance. Exposed to the fresh air, the insects began to lose their vigour until they too dissolved into the ground beneath them.
Looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings, Exill helped the Priest up. They paused in disbelief, unable and unwilling to fathom the horror they had endured.
“We… made it.” The devout Priest clasped both hands in humble servitude, giving thanks to the Spirit for its protection.
They limped towards the dim glow of lamplight surrounding the town built around the volcanic caldera. Father Jonas had lost his lamp during the struggle and so the two survivors stumbled through the tall grass for several minutes until they reached civilisation.
“We are in the western quarters.” The old man said in recognition. He had circled the town many times in search of the Aberration and was familiar with the surroundings. “The Church should be just up ahead.”
They soon came upon a large chapel built out of ashen volcanic rock. Father Jonas led him to an unassuming building off to the side. “This is the dormitories” he explained while rapping at the door that had been bolted shut.
A moment passed before a feminine voice called out, asking who it was. Hearing Father Jonas’s voice, the door was quickly unlatched and a young woman in the red robes of priesthood greeted them, her face filled with wonder.
“You have been gone for days Father, where have you been?” she exclaimed.
“What day is it child?” the Priest asked with a frown.
It quickly became apparent that two full days had passed since they initially set out for the search. It appeared the Aberration was not only capable of dilating space, but time as well. The Priestess ushered them in, stoking the fire and preparing a cup of warm tea.
“The town was in uproar when they found you didn’t return that evening. The town commander had sent out search parties for the last few nights and I’m surprised you didn’t encounter one on the way back.”
As the woman went out to draw some more water to heat up, Exill groaned and peeled back the hem of his tattered trousers. What lay underneath was overripe flesh, oozing slippery black liquid.
“Spirit bless this poor soul…” Father Jonas muttered a short prayer and tapped his heart twice in benediction. From a mere glance, he could tell the wound was cursed and spreading fast.
“Quickly, wear this!” The Priest fumbled off a plain amulet covered in whorls of knotted wood and placed it over his head with trembling hands. Feeling a strange resonance from the amulet, he intuitively summoned his Card.
Corruption Resisted
It was the first time seeing the quickly fading overlay, and curiosity drove him to [Appraise] the plain ornament around his neck.
Equipment Price Enchantment Amulet: Splinter of the Divine Tree ??? Minor resistance to abnormal status effects
Over one and a half years into this accursed world, Exill had encountered his first legendary item.