Eight Era, cycle 1721 – cycle of the squatting dog, season of Unkh, day 280
Name: Minion
Race: knox
Genus: canine
Class: B
Knox are highly adaptable creatures, which has resulted in them spreading across the globe, most commonly as pets, but there are still patches of wild knoxes, mostly in mountainous or otherwise hazardous locations. Knoxes were the most popular present for children; however, their large size means they are often abandoned shortly before they reach adulthood. Knoxes are fiercely loyal and brave fighters, but – due to their high energy levels and a tendency to attack bovine creatures – their numbers have been steadily dropping, both as pets and in the wild.
Affiliation: Cerberus, Amaka (pet)
Harvestable items: the feet are considered to increase virility in some cultures, teeth, eyes
State: unsettled
Level: 28
Health 6,300/6,300, stamina 3,275/9,100, magicka 2,100/2,100
3 gates opened, 5 shen points activated
Endowments: unknown
Curses: unknown
Bestiary increased
Minion was laying on her back, her paws occasionally swatting the air as she dreamed, and Amaka watched her with a distant look in her eye.
‘I don’t have a clue what to do,’ Amaka declared, sitting next to a small fire, cooking her dinner.
‘These people just seemed so helpless that I spoke without thinking.’
‘You’re a fighter! Those people are just tradesmen; they don’t know how to use a sword!’ Syeda responded.
‘Not really; I just… well, keep finding myself in a place where I need to kill or be killed. And after I saved the people from the carok den, I feel responsible for them; I can’t have them being sitting ducks like they are now. When I have blood on my hands or I feel the weight of my sword shift as the impaled creature dies, when I smell the bear things loose their bowels after death, and I look up and see children watching the fight without any hope of survival in their eyes but just a look of a lost future, then I have to do something. These are children; they need to be young and carefree. And then the next day, when the adrenaline calms and I sit down, I think, What am I doing? Nobody seemed to be doing anything, they were just waiting for someone to step forwards and… well, it seemed better than just sitting around asking, “Who’s going to stop this?” I mean, they were monsters; that doesn’t happen in reality.’
‘There are two types of people: those who say, “Somebody should do something,” and those who say, “We need to do something.”,’ Ben remarked. Ben had joined them as they left the hamlet; he was a local hunter who knew the area well.
‘So why are you here?’ Amaka asked, using a well-placed rock to lean her back against.
‘Restless feet syndrome; I don’t like to be in one place for too long,’ Ben clarified, stabbing a chunk of meat with an arrow.
‘So where do we go from here?’ Syeda questioned, snuggling into a jacket that was far too large for her, yet she’d been wearing it since leaving the hamlet.
‘There’s a path just up there; it’s overgrown, but I remember the way,’ Amaka stated, nodding in the intended direction. ‘The quests I got after leaving the caves seemed to suggest that there was somewhere to stay up the mountain, so it’s worth investigating.’
‘How so?’ Ben asked.
‘How what?’
‘How does the quest suggest that it’s worth investigating?’
‘Well, it says, “go and investigate”,’ Amaka replied, confused.
‘Is that it?’ Ben quizzed, also confused.
‘Sure; why give me a quest if there isn’t something to find?’
‘Because…’ Ben began, struggling to articulate his thoughts. ‘Because, well, sometimes a quest is given to you by fate. You’re in the right place at the right time, and fate just plops it into your lap.
Then there will be something worth investigating, sure. But some quests are created by your subconscious. In which case, you were curious as to what was further up, and a quest was created, but it doesn’t mean anything. Whenever I enter a new town I get a quest to have a pint, but I don’t get experience for it.’
‘That doesn’t happen, does it?’
‘Sure,’ Syeda said, ‘I have a quest that tells me to have a great day. Every time I complete it, the next day I get a new quest to have a brill day.’
‘You make your own quests? Why aren’t you level 100?’ queried Amaka.
‘I don’t get any experience for it. Well, a couple of times where I’ve had really epic day, I got some experience points, but most of the time the reward for having a great day is that I had a brill day,’ Syeda concluded.
‘So this could all be a waste of time?’ Amaka asked, deflated.
‘Sure, but then there still might be something; it isn’t a well-known region. That’s the Mottled
Forest; no one goes deep into it,’ Ben replied.
‘Why?’ Amaka probed, trying a root vegetable she’d never seen before. It tasted like pumpkin.
‘There’s lots of reasons,’ Ben confirmed, waving his arms. ‘First, it’s vast; if you follow it east, you’ll reach the ocean.’
Ben started tracing out marks in the mud with the same arrow he’d eaten with, drawing a curve to represent the ocean and a line heading west from it that represented the forest. Then he marked a spot on the crude map. ‘That’s Avalia; you head north from there and you reach the river.’
He drew a line that wiggled a lot and moved in and out of the forest to represent the river.
He continued, ‘You can get a boat from the Gloria Sea to Avalia, and it’s about three weeks of travelling from the Dunaj to here; that’s the river that feeds into the Gloria Sea. And then from Avalia it’s a week’s journey by cart to the nearest city.’ He poked his stick north-west of Avalia. ‘So, if you want to walk it, then you need to be careful. There’re plenty of monsters around, so if you take the road from Avalia to the river, there’s a week’s worth of opportunities to get injured by a monster and there ain’t much traffic around, so not many people risk walking it. The boat that travels from the ocean down the river is also prone to being attacked, so it’s expensive as they have guards. So, we don’t get much traffic by river. Also, the monsters range from level 6 to 130, and your average adult is around the level 20 to 30 region; we’re a bit low here because we’re so isolated, so it’s risky to level up, but there are opportunities to level up without fighting.
‘Then there’s this bit here.’ Ben drew a line north-east of Avalia, which bordered the forest and the river occasionally entered. ‘It’s all marshlands, there’s little to eat, little to burn and little land to build on, although there are people living there, such as a goblin tribe – a friendly one at that – and a few other races. But it’s hard going to walk through marshland, so there are no visitors from here. The marsh is an overflow of the Dunaj, and as such it houses (hosts?) some of the monsters that live in the Dunaj, and then the strong marsh beasts get stronger fighting the Dunaj serpents.’
Ben moved his stick to the east and drew a line that started at the forest and crossed the river in almost a cartoon-bone shape. ‘And these are the Caple Mountains; they’re proper mountains as well. The river passes through them to reach the ocean, but I’m told you can’t even see the top of the mountains from the boats. So that’s hard going – and there’s no visitors.’
‘Where I’m from, people love mountain climbing,’ stated Amaka.
‘Not with elementals with short tempers hanging around,’ Ben said.
Then Ben drew a line to the south, some way from the forest. ‘Lastly, there’s the Alcamarie Waste south of here; some meadows turn into the Alcamarie Waste slowly, and the Alcamarie Waste takes a month to travel through. No one knows where it came from; they think it’s the aftermath of some titanic battle. No one goes through the Alcamarie Waste unless you travel down to Bunga on the Rhun, but that’s a highly contested river; it isn’t monsters you need to worry about, but the military presence. The Kadambases are friendly enough, but the Prophet is a right bastard. At the moment, the city – well, more of a hamlet at the end of the Rhun – is in Kadambas’s control, and they’re alright. They’re a bit loose with the old deity worship, if you ask me, but they’re friendly people. However, the Trist people are always trying to get control of the hamlet to control what sails along the Rhun, and if the Prophet is ever successful, then you can say goodbye to the free moment along the Rhun. So, movement along the Rhun is a bit of a bugger. Even if you get onto the Rhun, the Prophet’s men might stop you at some point and claim you owe them a levy. You see, south is desert, east are mountains, north is ocean, north-east is marshland, and north-west is scary forest. If you pass through the forest, it’s weeks of travelling before you make it anywhere! All visitors tend to come from the river and from the west.’
‘What’s west?’ Amaka asked, looking at the crude map.
‘Broken buildings; there must have been many towns around here, but now it’s mostly rubble. There’s a good road, but it would be a lot of work to move the rubble to start a new town, so nobody bothers. It’s not like there’s anything here worth building a town for anyway.’
‘So I’ve ended up in the middle of nowhere,’ Amaka stated.
‘How’s that?’ Syeda asked, pointing to the crude map. The Rhun and the Dunaj didn’t meet on the crude map. ‘I thought you said it was a tributary of the Dunaj; doesn’t “tributary” mean it feeds into it?’
‘Well, the Rhun does feed into the Dunaj, but at this point where the Rhun stops on my map it actually goes into a kind of tunnel and then feeds into the Dunaj. I’ve never seen it myself, but that’s why the lines don’t meet,’ confirmed Ben.
*
The next day, they warmed up oats in water, and Amaka once more wished for a convenience store. She didn’t mind porridge, but she preferred it made with milk, otherwise it was hard to eat.
After a disappointing breakfast, Ben complained about Syeda’s packing of her bag. ‘Who taught you how to pack a bag anyway?’ he asked.
Syeda shrugged. ‘We always had a cart.’
‘You’ve got your water at the bottom; it’s no wonder you were always faffing around with your bag as we were riding,’ Ben said, taking everything out and repacking it meticulously.
‘Who taught you?’ Syeda enquired.
‘My hometown had enforced conscription at seventeen. You’ve got this side pocket for food, dried meats, fruits and anything snack-like for long hikes. Your water bottle should fit into your bag’s side pocket, so you can reach it as you walk; this bottle is all wrong for this bag. On top of the bag goes the leather throw, so it’s quick to get at in case of rain. Now we need to tie it properly; you’ve got it far too low. You need to be able to run without it bouncing, as that causes extra effort and sound. Most of the time, you’ll need to drop it in a fight to be able to move faster, but if you’re caught by surprise or need to run, you need your bag on properly. I’ve seen someone die because their bag hindered them in an ambush.’
After Ben was satisfied, they entered the forest and lost sight of the sun quickly before spending long hours trekking in the forest.
‘This is where we left the carok den,’ Amaka said finally, pointing to a crack in the rock face.
‘That was a nightmare of a path. It was hardly wide enough to walk normally at times, other times you’re scrambling over roots, and the amount of times we had to climb steeply only to go straight back down again was ridiculous. No wonder this path is so overgrown,’ Ben complained, wiping sweat from his face.
‘Yeah, I’m not sure you could put a village up here; you’d never get the carts up the path,’ Syeda remarked.
‘I don’t know,’ Amaka responded, thinking of the path through the caves. Masinga might be upset, but it would be the best way of getting goods up. ‘Could you make a bridge? Anyway, some of the goblins said they’d found something further up; it’s not much further now. I must say, maybe the euphoria of being free made me forget just how difficult that climb was – or maybe it’s much easier going down?’
They rested for the night and Amaka found herself enthralled in butterfly watching; there was a large plant similar to red hot pokers on Earth, but with bigger petals and a few more colours thrown in. The butterflies were larger than she was used to, but just as wonderfully patterned. Ever since she’d returned from the carok den, she had found herself enjoying nature more and more.
*
The next day they ate a fowl, which Ben had shot on his turn keeping watch, before they continued the ascent. Eventually, they reached an overgrown clearing with ramshackle buildings, which were not dilapidated, but forgotten and in need of repair.
Syeda watched Amaka picking flowers and moss, and tasting one of each type first before collecting it. Obviously, Amaka was working towards her herbalist skill; Syeda wondered if she should be a little more rounded in her skills, but the handicap she had towards learning had always put her off it. The only skill she’d actively trained for was her parkour skill, and that was only because she was a restless spirit. Her other skills had all been by-products of her family’s lifestyle. Even so, she did know a little of horticulture.
‘That’s not how you do it,’ Syeda said, standing next to Amaka.
‘Hmm?’ queried Amaka.
‘Look, you’re crushing the flower heads; you’re just ripping at this hedge, which will damage it. The seeds are actually the ingredient on this plant.’
‘Well, I’m only a low level,’ Amaka replied in a huff.
‘Hold up!’ Ben shouted as they started to spread out. He bent down and seemed to pick at the air with his bow, then he shuffled closer to the air he was picking at and gestured them over to him.
‘You see this?’ he asked as he raised his bow up carefully.
‘What are we looking for?’ Syeda questioned, kneeling over and peering close.
‘Some sort of thread; do you see it?’ he enquired.
‘Just about; it’s a bit like a rain drop,’ Amaka stated, and she reached forwards to touch it.
‘Don’t!’ Stirgar warned.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, but that makes me want to touch it even less,’ Stirgar replied.
Amaka activated her all-seeing-eye ability, and the world shifted into pastel colours; fortunately, the grey scale was reserved for areas without light. The thread had a distinctive red aura.
‘Okay, so it’s a trap of some type,’ she verified. ‘Go scout the location out.’
No one moved.
‘Go scout out,’ Amaka said, nudging Stirgar with her foot.
‘Why me?’ he grumbled.
‘Because you’ll just be banished if you’re harmed; we might be killed.’
‘If I lose my arm, I’m no better than you,’ Stirgar replied gruffly.
‘I’ll live,’ Amaka stated, nudging him forwards again.
‘Fine!’ Muttering to himself, Stirgar trudged into the overgrowth on a general heading for a building.
‘That is a strange servant,’ Ben remarked after they could no longer hear his mutterings.
‘He isn’t a servant; he’s a daemon, so once he’s summoned he pretty much does his own thing. I guess that’s the risk of summoning an intelligent being; he’s learning to think his way around corners. Fortunately, he isn’t there yet,’ explained Amaka.
‘But he is tame?’ Ben asked.
‘I think it would be fairer to say that our interests are aligned; I’m not sure what I’d do if they weren’t. It was only a simple spell; maybe the stronger spells would allow the summoner to have more control over them?’ questioned Amaka.
‘Just make sure he isn’t around when we’re sleeping,’ Ben requested.
The air was suddenly rent with a cry so loud and impassioned that is made the nails on Syeda’s fingers prickle and all her hairs stood to attention.
‘Bruhh, oxengra blahh ggguuuhhhggg gahhhahaahhaahhaahhh, ngh nhh nggghhh,’ was roughly what Stirgar was screaming as he bolted towards them, defecating as he did so.
What followed Stirgar was a spider the size of his pony; the only reason Stirgar wasn’t already dead was because the spider seemed reluctant to travel in direct sunlight. It scurried between bits of cover with the speed of a racehorse, and, as Stirgar made a direct line for them, the spider was forced to take a protracted route to keep to as much shade as possible. Even so, before Stirgar reached them, the spider was close enough to pounce, and it did.
One moment it was scurrying for the cover of a broken wall, the next it was on top of Stirgar; its jump was so fast Syeda thought it had Amaka’s teleport technique.
Before the spider had time to paralyse the poor daemon (if poor daemon isn’t an oxymoron), an arrow struck the spider with enough force to knock it off Stirgar.
‘Shot!’ Syeda shouted, giving Ben a thumb’s up.
The spider had a dazed icon, and Amaka went in for the kill. Before she reached, it the countdown nearly hit zero, but Ben hit it with another arrow; this one pinned it to the ground, and it had a bleeding-immobilised icon. Amaka brought her one-handed battleaxe down and severed one of the spider’s legs; with two more blows, she killed it, and stood back brushing the hair from her eyes.
Race: warren spider
Warren spiders are almost classed in the genus “automatons” due to their simple nature. They have very limited functionality; they protect their queen and often starve to death in the process of doing so.
Genus: arachnid
Class: D
Affiliation: warren queen
Harvestable items: web, venom, legs (rare); increase your lore to learn more about harvestable items
State: hungry
Level: 4
Health 200/200, stamina 200/200, magicka 200/200
Endowments: unknown
Curses: unknown
Bestiary increased
‘It’s a warren spider; they guard their queen, so watch out for others,’ Amaka said looking around.
‘If these are drones, I would also expect soldier spiders as well; a bit like ants,’ Stirgar confirmed.
‘Well, fortunately, spiders aren’t like ants; these things are deadly enough,’ Amaka declared.
‘I’m not going back in there again,’ Stirgar replied, folding his arms.
Amaka rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, we go as a group.’
The crept forwards, scanning the ground for webs. Unfortunately, Syeda grew distracted, and started looking around for interesting debris or skeletons, and didn’t see the gossamer thread that caused her to trip and stumbled.
‘What happened?’ Amaka asked, looking around at the sudden movement.
‘I tripped over something.’ Syeda replied embarrassed.
‘Okay, we go again,’ Amaka commanded after a quick stretch.
Syeda nodded and got to her feet; when she did, her jaw dropped open, her bowels loosened as her knees gave way, and she dropped to the floor.
The group turned around to see what had terrified her and their eyes popped as a gigantic spider jumped over a wall and scurried towards them. It was vast; vast enough for its features to be exaggerated so that even the hairs on its body looked like the bristles on a porcupine.
‘Kill it; kill everything!’ Stirgar screamed, diving behind a wall. ‘Salt the planet, and start again!’
The spider moved like an arrow towards Syeda; its path wasn’t straight but curved slightly, though it was evident that it was heading for Syeda, as it pulled its pincers back, and thick, viscous venom dripped from its fangs. Its eight eyes shone, and Syeda’s skin itched like it wanted to peel off, even her nightmares had never featured something so fowl. Something smacked into Syeda’s side, and her breath exploded out of her as the world shot sideways.
Amaka let out a cry of pain in Syeda’s ear, and Syeda looked around to see Amaka in her altered form, and one of the spiders fangs sunk into her thigh.
Battle log: puncture damage, -32 health points for resisting poisoning
An arrow smacked into the spider, but it resisted the stagger effect from the impact imbuement and tossed its head, throwing Amaka to the side. Amaka was slow to get to her feet, and her only saving grace was the fact that the spider needed to organise its many legs. As it turned, Syeda moved without thinking, grabbed Amaka’s axe and jumped at the spider, slamming the axe against it and getting the axe stuck in the joint of one of the spider’s legs. The spider span around in a tight circle, and Syeda screamed as she clung on desperately.
‘Burn the village! Set fire to the fire, then salt the ground, burn the salt and salt the ashes!’ Stirgar bellowed as hundreds of spiders erupted from the village and scurried towards them.
Race: warren queen
Warren spiders are almost classed in the genus “automatons” due to their simple nature. They have very limited functionality; they protect their queen and often starve to death in the process of doing so. Increase your lore to learn more.
Genus: arachnid
Class: B
Affiliation: Erinyes
Harvestable items: web, venom, eggs (rare); increase your lore to learn more about harvestable items
State: hungry
Level: 14
Health 1,500/1,500(?), stamina 1,500/1,500(?), magicka 1,500/1,500(?)
Endowments: unknown
Curses: unknown
Bestiary increased
‘You crazy bitch; what do you think you’re doing? Get down, fool!’ Amaka shouted at Syeda as the spider tried to bite at its own underside to reach her.
Stirgar slapped his hands together and slowly, with apparent effort, pulled them apart, muttering a spell as he did so. A giant rectangle of water appeared over the swarming spiders and landed with a heavy splash; a moment later, an arrow struck the fracas, sending electricity over everything drenched by Stirgar’s spell.
Amaka cast her eyes around for a weapon, but could only see Syeda’s staff; with a curse, Amaka charged the spider, used her claws to climb up the spider and attacked it whilst straddling its abdomen. The spider shook and quivered, desperate to sink its poisonous fangs into the irritants attacking it.
Battle log: fall damage, -2 health points, 5 health points remaining
Stirgar then muttered a new spell and inhaled; all the warmth around him was sucked away, and the water turned to ice, freezing the spiders. Ben followed this up with impact arrows, and a few spiders shattered from the arrow strikes, but more spiders were able to break free from the freeze effect and swarmed forwards, whilst yet more spiders appeared from the derelict buildings.
Finally, Amaka was thrown off, and the spider spun and pounced; its fangs went for Amaka’s heart, but Amaka used her teleport to escape to safety. Breathing hard, Amaka cast her eyes around for inspiration as Syeda clung onto a hairy leg, striking the spider with the axe in the hope of cutting a leg off. The spider wasn’t making a sound, there was just the thudding of its massive legs as it skittered around, which made the scene all the more unnatural and disturbing.
‘Any more bright ideas?’ Ben called to Stirgar hopefully.
‘I don’t have an inexhaustible pool of mana!’ Stirgar replied.
‘What about fire? I’ve seen you start our fires at night.’
‘It’s only a spark; it ignites kindling, but little else!’
‘I’ve got a plan; let them follow me!’ Ben shouted, jumping down from the tree he’d perched in, and firing a few impact rounds to startle the spiders and harass them.
The giant spider climbed a ramshackle building; it moved vertically without apparent effort, and Syeda screamed as she was pincered between the legs of the spider. Amaka appeared on the back of the spider, clawing and slashing at it until it shook violently; she jumped off its back and onto the roof of the building. The roof was little more than rotten timbers criss-crossing like an overexuberant game of noughts and crosses, but many of the timbers had fallen away. Amaka looked down at the broken and scattered timbers, and had an idea. Maybe if she broke the main support timber for the roof, then the spider would fall in and become skewered?
Ben skidded on the icy ground, and the spiders closed the distance. Cursing, he staggered on, attempting desperately to keep his balance and stay ahead of the spiders. There was a crash nearby, and Ben looked over to see Amaka break the roof of a building, and the giant spider toppled in. Ben changed direction, threw himself through the door of that same house and slammed into Syeda, who was trying to keep out of range of the enraged spider queen. Moments later, a trail of spiders streamed in through the door, and Syeda screamed at the sight.
The distraction gave the giant spider the chance to pounce, and, in an instant, the spider’s fang had pierced Syeda’s chest. She coughed and blood splattered out of her mouth as the spider withdrew its fang; Syeda’s chest made a wet, sucking sound, she jerked uncontrollably as her body struggled for air, and the hairy fang ripped at her muscles. Amaka dropped from the ceiling and grabbed Syeda, teleporting away, to leave Ben alone with an angry spider queen and a mass of large spiders. He started to back away, but the giant spider scuttled around to face him.
Suddenly, a large boulder was hovering above them and then it landed on the spider, squishing it cartoonishly. Ben used the distraction and ran for the door, clearing a path with his impact arrows; once through the door, he slammed it shut and leaned against it panting.
‘Great, now what?’ Stirgar asked massaging his temples.
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‘Set… fire,’ Ben panted.
‘I drained my mana in that last attack; it’s given me a migraine, and I don’t have enough left in me to set this thing off.’
Ben staggered away and turned to the house; he pulled an arrow out and drew it back, but before he fired, the arrow sparked and flashed, alight. He fired it into the thatched roof, and then fired two more. The roof caught fire, and the spiders that were scurrying out of the roof thrashed around, causing the fire to spread more rapidly. The spiders could be heard scuttling around madly, slamming against the walls, door and shuttered windows. The noise of their distress increased as the walls started to catch fire, burning timbers from the roof fell into the house, then the floor caught alight, and the air was rent with the sound of the spiders burning to death.
‘This feels cruel,’ Ben said as the scratching sounds of the spiders made its way into his nightmares.
‘We’ll salt the ground after,’ Stirgar replied, and he spat into the fire.
Amaka placed Syeda down carefully; it was a nasty, sucking wound and blood was getting into her lungs, making her cough out globs of blood as she struggled to breathe. Amaka cast her healing spells; Syeda’s life was in the low 20s, and her numbers were dropping quickly. The puncture resisted healing due to the spider’s mucus-like poison clogging the wound, forcing Amaka to cast a rejuvenation spell as Syeda’s health trickled into the teens and close to single figures. Syeda’s breathing became feeble, she coughed and choked as she struggled to take in air, and little streaks of red appeared in her corneas as the vessels behind the eyes burst as her body fought for air.
‘Here,’ Stirgar said, offering Amaka a healing potion.
‘What?’ Amaka asked, confused.
‘It’s a healing potion; it’s not perfect, but it’ll help.’
Amaka snatched it from his hands and trickled it into Syeda’s mouth, a drop at a time, as Syeda struggled to swallow.
‘Hold her,’ Stirgar ordered, and he grabbed the brown tar that the poison had started to partially solidify into.
Amaka braced Syeda as Syeda’s health still dropped, despite the healing potion and magicka Amaka had used. Stirgar pulled Syeda’s top up and started to rip chunks of the solidifying poison away, but the poison was a sticky, tar-like substance, and as Stirgar pulled the poison away it took with it chunks of flesh. There was a ripping noise like nothing Amaka had ever heard before, and globs of blood and yellow fat were pulled away from inside Syeda’s body.
Syeda’s life points reached zero.
Amaka nearly vomited, but instead she reacted; she didn’t know where the instinct came from, but – instead of freezing – her body took over and started resuscitating Syeda. Amaka pumped at Syeda’s chest and breathed life into her lungs as Stirgar poured a potion over the wound. She provided a gentle blow of air with a consistent, rhythmic chest compression; it went tilt head back with two fingers, breathe, pump, pump, pump to thirty, tilt head back with two fingers, breathe, pump, pump, pump to thirty, tilt head back with two fingers, breathe, again and again. Amaka worked, with sweat dripping from her brow as she pumped at Syeda’s chest and tried to breathe life into Syeda’s lungs. Syeda’s face was starting to glisten with Amaka’s sweat. It was hard to fight off the panic. Breathing too hard could force air into the stomach; this could then cause stomach acid to be expelled, which could go into Syeda’s lungs and was fatal. Working too hard could mean Amaka would end up needing cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) herself; she had to keep up a constant rhythm, a gentle breath, and repeat, repeat, repeat!
‘Stop,’ Stirgar said.
A constant rhythm with firm chest compressions, two gentle breaths, and then repeat.
‘Stop,’ Stirgar said again.
A constant rhythm with firm chest compressions, two gentle breaths, and then repeat.
‘Enough,’ Stirgar ordered, trying to pull Amaka away.
Repeat, repeat, repeat.
‘You’re exhausting yourself!’
As Amaka breathed into Syeda once more, there was a cough, a hacking attempt at pulling down air into her lungs, and a spray of blood as Syeda brought up the blood clogging her lungs.
‘You did it,’ Ben breathed, watching Syeda return like a miracle from the gods.
‘It was just simple CPR,’ Amaka remarked, wiping away sweat and collapsing onto her back.
‘There’s still some poison left; it’s long acting too,’ Stirgar confirmed, studying Syeda and completely unabashed from attempting to stop Amaka moments earlier.
Amaka forced her way onto her elbows and cast her weak-rejuvenation spell to steady Syeda before Amaka collapsed, exhausted.
*
A bright, almost obnoxious light pulled Amaka from her slumber and into the worst hangover of her life. Shifting an arm to ward off the glare, Amaka let out a long, soft, piteous wail of despair and woe.
‘Too much magicka?’ Ben asked, dropping a heavy water pouch onto Amaka’s stomach.
Amaka grunted from the impact. ‘Is that what this is? It feels like I’ve been mixing my spirits.’
‘Draining your cores isn’t good; even with potions, you’ll still get hangovers – or even death, if abused. But it’ll pass; there’s porridge, which will help.’
Amaka grunted again and greeted the morning reluctantly. ‘Fuck my life,’ she said, sitting up slowly and swallowing a mouthful of what she called gruel. It wasn’t half bad; some strange berries gave it flavour, and it did seem to have an effect.
Status gain: body soul and spirit fortified ↑5%; all effects last for 1 hour
‘What’s in this stuff?’ Amaka queried, amazed.
‘It’s Momma’s secret recipe,’ Ben said, tapping his nose.
Amaka took the chance to address her other notifications.
Affliction: exhaustion
Your efforts of the previous night have made you exhausted; you need to rest to recover. Time remaining is 4 hours – due to the effects of Ben’s Momma’s porridge recipe, recovery time is reduced by 50%.
Experience received: 2,112 experience points for killing 24 warren spiders, 14,812 experience points for killing level 14 den mother (3,300 experience points until next level)
Reward for killing boss – spider queen: 7 attribute points randomly assigned – ↑ intimidation, ↑↑ balance, ↑ vision, ↑ traps, ↑ ambidextrousness
Consciousness increased: level 6, ↑ spell power, ↓ spell-cast time, ↓ spell-mana drain
Location discovered: lost village of Tumbleswood
You have discovered a significant location; explore further to unlock its secrets and potentially receive a great reward.
New badge awarded: resuscitation 1
You brought someone back from the dead; your quick thinking, ability to keep calm and knowledge of CPR was lifesaving: ↑ compassion (compassion, amongst other things, can help increase the fighting moral of those around you), ↑ consciousness, ↑ team work.
Consciousness increased: level 7, spells are now 4% more powerful
New badge awarded: the wall
You pushed yourself past your limit time and again: ↑ resilience, ↑ willpower, ↑ determination.
‘How’s Syeda?’ Amaka enquired after sorting out her prompts; she would have asked sooner, but she needed time to get her head straight.
‘Fine. She’s woken up, eaten and gone back to sleep,’ Ben replied.
‘Fantastic. I don’t suppose there’s a river nearby or something?’ Amaka question, stretching.
‘Just down there.’ Ben pointed.
After Amaka bathed, they rested; the day passed in pleasant sunshine and an enjoyable lunch.
They discussed whether the location with its time-worn buildings was possibly a good place to start a new town. The difficulty of getting provisions up the path was offset by the difficulty of people being able to attack them. They decided that, once rested, they would finish their exploration and head back to Avalia to announce to everyone about the new place to stay.
‘Did you harvest everything?’ Amaka asked Stirgar.
‘Everything my current level lets me,’ Stirgar replied, patting his fat pony, which had bulging saddle bags.
‘Right, and I don’t want to see spider stew for dinner either,’ Amaka declared, looking pointedly at Ben.
‘Hey! As if I would. We don’t have any chillies for a start,’ Ben confirmed.
‘The hairs make great toothpicks,’ Stirgar said.
‘Anyway,’ Amaka continued, loudly and pointedly, ‘we were going to finish our exploration. We must make sure there are no more bosses or anything to endanger the refugees. Otherwise, this looks like a good place to make into a village.’
‘And there’s a reward; I take it we all got the message about a “significant location”.’ Ben said.
They nodded and set off to pacify the village. After a good exploration with no further surprises, Amaka was feeling good, but it wasn’t long into their search when Ben called them all to him, and Amaka’s heart sank expecting more difficulties.
‘What’s up?’ Syeda asked, entering a large building that could have been a tavern. ‘Wow, what are those?’ Syeda was pointing to large, intricately carved statues made from a creamy-white stone.
The craftsmanship was fantastic; they all looked so real and alive, even to the point where the hair was caught in fine detail. The oddest thing about the statues – more so than the location, as why anyone would hide the things away in a tavern was one odd thing – were their expressions, as each statue had a look of fear, uncertainty, pain or terror, captured with inhuman skill.
‘I don’t know; maybe it’s some sort of worship? I can’t think why else they’d have such ugly expressions,’ Ben replied.
‘Strange. My history teach said that the statues of ancient Greece and Rome were originally painted; so why are these bare? And what race are they meant to be?’ Amaka probed, looking them over in wonder.
‘I can’t say; I’ve never seen anything like what’s depicted here,’ Ben clarified.
‘They’re called furries,’ Stirgar said, nodding as he looked one over. ‘They’ve been captured rather finely; I can even see the fur on this one and a rather tasty behind.’
‘Don’t lick them!’ commanded Amaka.
‘I’ve never heard of them,’ Syeda replied, poking one.
‘You don’t see them much. There used to be an empire of them once – oh, four eons ago – but they were considered an abomination by most races; superstition said they were the result of a women lying down with animals. That, coupled with the story that they were the precursors to bestia and the fact that furries are far easier to kill than bestia, meant that the furries were all but wiped out. You still see the odd one or two knocking around; there’s even meant to be a village left somewhere,’ Stirgar explained, and then he shrugged.
‘They look like foxes,’ Syeda commented.
‘Not this one; this one looks like a dog,’ Ben suggested.
‘Most animals had a furry version. They got milk from cow furries, rode on horse furries, and had cat furries as pets, perhaps even bird ones that flew and sang,’ Stirgar enlightened.
‘Have you ever heard of the village of Tumbleswood?’ Amaka asked.
‘No, but that doesn’t mean much my lore skill is only in the mid-50s; the next time I’m in Pandemonium, I’ll ask about,’ Stirgar offered.
They carried on looking around; they found more statues with no more rhyme or reason to their placement than any other, almost like someone had carted them in and then just dumped them out.
‘I can’t find anything; whatever this promised reward is, it’s beyond me,’ Amaka complained, after exiting a building and catching Syeda looking into a rotten barrel.
‘If it’s treasure, it’s well hidden,’ Syeda agreed, climbing on top of an unidentified object and turning over lose bits of wood.
‘Over here,’ Stirgar’s voice called to them, followed by a burst or blue flares.
They headed in the direction of his voice and found him nestled amongst a group of hornthorn hedges growing at the bottom of a steep but short hill.
‘What have you found?’ questioned Amaka.
‘A cave,’ Stirgar replied, crawling out.
The group gasped; he was covered in scratches and his own blood, which was closer to purple than the maroon of human blood. ‘Yeah, this is a hornthorn hedge, and these buggers are sharp.’
‘It makes good soup though,’ Ben said.
‘Why didn’t you take a knife and cut the bush?’ Amaka asked.
‘I’m a daemon; this level of scratching is more pleasurable than painful to us. Like having your lip bitten during a kiss,’ Stirgar confirmed.
Amaka took her sword out and handed it to Syeda. ‘Syeda, would you and Ben cut this thing down?’
‘I can’t use that! It’s completely out of my league!’ Syeda exclaimed, looking over the katana.
‘Just hack at the bushes with it; you don’t need to be a sword-master,’ stated Amaka.
Syeda and Ben did as requested, and – after working on it for a while – the gap became larger, but still uncomfortably tight; however, the branches of the hornthorn were thick, and the weapons were losing durability at an alarming rate. Ben explained it didn’t mean they were breaking but blunting.
‘Right, that’ll do,’ Ben said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
They worked their way through; Ben and Syeda let out yelps and hisses of pain, but Amaka found her toughened skin deadened the sensation, and no one looked over to see what Stirgar’s reaction was.
Thankfully, the tunnel was empty of spider webs, and with Amaka’s all-seeing-eye ability and Stirgar’s sight – probably due to being a daemon – the two could see fine. After a while, Stirgar started muttering, then a blue flame burst into life and streams of blue fire lit the chamber off into the distance.
Stirgar sniffed. ‘Methanol wood; nice.’
The blue flames illuminated their way into a large chamber, and all eyes were drawn immediately to a figure sitting on a throne, with its skin taught over its bones, sunken eyes that were little more than two pin pricks of light instead of irises, and a long staff resting over its knees. Nondescript figures were lined up before it like supplicants; their outlines jagged like torn sheets rippling in in otherwise unfelt wind.
Name: unknown
Race: wraith
Genus: spirit
Affiliation: Neffer Mawds
Specialisation: unknown
Wraiths are all that is left of once-great fighters. What draws them back and keeps them bound can be a variety of things, from wrongs that were never avenged to powerful necrotic magicka. Increase your lore to learn more.
Class: C
State: waiting
Level: 10
Health 500/500, stamina 500/500, magicka unknown
Endowments: immune to most physical damage
Curses: silver, fire, iron
Bestiary increased
‘Wraiths, ranging between levels 10 and 12,’ Amaka verified, looking at the stats of each wraith.
‘Does anyone have any silver weapons?’
‘I have a few silver-tipped arrows, but only three,’ Ben replied licking his lips.
‘Syeda’s staff has a composite tip that’s a mix of silver and moonstone,’ Stirgar said.
‘Looks like you’re on crowd control,’ Ben stated, slapping Syeda on the back, but only gently so the wraiths wouldn’t hear and become animated.
‘There’s that name again: Neffer Mawds,’ Amaka pondered, suddenly placing the name from back at the slave auction.
Name: Precipitous of the New Moon
Race: nargareth
Genus: undying
Affiliation: Neffer Mawds
Specialisation: necrotic priest
Nargareth are an ancient race believed to be extinct. It was said that, at birth, a nargareth was destined to rule and there are very few records of nargareth that weren’t ruling nations. Increase your lore to learn more.
Class: A
State: dormant
Level: 34
Health unknown, stamina unknown, magicka unknown
Endowments: unknown
Curses: unknown
Bestiary increased
Congratulations, you have discovered a rare race: nargareth
The nargareth are a cruel and callous race who think little of others, rather only of power and wealth. The nargareth were considered to be an enemy by most sentient races, and it is said that they are the right hand of the Father of Lies.
You have discovered the quixotic race nargareth; this race is spoken about in susurration so that the nargareth won’t hear their names being called; receive 6,320 experience points and 232 accolade points.
Level up! Level 16 (24,460 experience points to the next level)
Warning: you are not a scholar; you have lost these accolade points
Lore level 18: you now know more about the creatures you find in the world
‘We are so fucked,’ Amaka declared.
‘I just got a massive experience boost!’ Syeda said so loudly that everyone clamped a hand over her mouth to the point where she could hardly breathe.
‘We all did,’ Ben hissed. ‘Thanks to your mistress.’
‘That’s a level 34 boss, and it doesn’t look as stupid as a carok queen,’ confirmed Amaka.
‘Do we even attempt to fight it?’ Ben asked.
‘Okay, well…’ There was a pause. ‘Yeah, I got nothing,’ Amaka stated, and the universe seemed to hear.
Quest: an ancient mistake
Such a creature should never have been possible. Destroy the ancient nargareth and restore balance of life to this land benighted by death. Many things are unknown and unknowable, but finding the creator of this creature and cleansing the world of such evil shall be rewarded.
‘Oh shut up,’ Amaka muttered.
‘Hey, I just got a quest!’ Syeda cried.
‘Me too,’ Ben agreed, nodding.
‘Great, so that’s all of us. Now what? I mean look at it, it’s already dead and is undying – un-bloody-dying!’ grumbled Amaka.
Quest update: an ancient mistake
Find a way to destroy what is tethering the nargareth to the world.
‘What’s that about? The universe isn’t usually so helpful,’ Ben said.
‘The nargareth aren’t naturally an undying race; it looks like Amaka’s all-seeing-eye ability has given us enough information for the quest to be updated,’ Stirgar clarified.
‘We’re still outnumbered, out-levelled and without any kind of plan,’ Amaka stated.
‘Take this,’ Stirgar suggested, offering what looked like a vial in which poisons were normally kept.
‘What is it?’ Ben asked, taking it.
‘It’s daemon blood: my blood. Wraiths are weak to daemon blood, spread it on your arrows and it’ll give you an edge,’ explained Stirgar.
Amaka checked the wraiths again and, sure enough, “daemon’s blood” was added to the weaknesses.
‘That’s rather helpful of you,’ Amaka said suspiciously.
‘That’s for a few reasons. Undying is a daemonic spell, and we didn’t cast this one, so it is an obscenity to us and we must find out who knows one of our spells. Also, even the daemons set themselves against the nargareth; they’ve been known to invade our realms,’ Stirgar responded.
Quest: lay on Macduff
Your familiar has shown enmity towards the nargareth; his kind have an active quest to kill any such creatures on sight. Destroy this creature, and you and your familiar will be rewarded.
‘I think we should come back with, like, ninety people,’ Amaka advised.
‘Why ninety?’ Ben asked.
‘It doesn’t have to be; it could be 200 people,’ Amaka said shrugging.
‘That’s not how heroes act; kings and tyrants send others to their deaths, but heroes face danger themselves,’ Syeda replied.
‘Yeah, but I haven’t saved my progress in, like, ages,’ Amaka confessed.
‘What?’ queried Syeda.
‘Oh, nothing,’ dismissed Amaka.
‘It looks like we’re locked in,’ Ben indicated, pointing back the way they had come, where a large door had closed.
‘I don’t think we have a choice in the matter, anyway,’ Stirgar said conversationally.
‘The quest didn’t say anything about not refusing,’ Amaka replied.
‘Not that; that,’ Stirgar indicated, pointing.
They followed the direction of his horned nailed to see the nargareth sitting and watching them.
‘Okay, so we back away, very, very slowly,’ Amaka said.
They followed her lead, moving slowly like a child attempting to steal from a cookie jar. As they neared the entrance to the chamber, the creature stood with a billow of dust falling from him. Then it moved its hand, causing a subtle softening of noise and the feeling of space opening; this was followed by a growing buzzing noise, succeeded by a noise like screaming ice as a fractal shape shot from the nargareth’s hand, shattering flagstones behind it and with the very floor being ripped up in its wake.
The group dove to the side as the spell drove towards them with black lightning lancing from it. Moments later, it struck the wall, causing the wall to explode outwards with a sound that made their teeth ache.
‘Jenny’s Chosen, what was that?’ Ben cried, slapping at a spot where the lightning had touched him and burned his skin.
‘Some sort of ice based attack,’ Amaka replied, gazing in awe at the destructive path of the spell with its torn flagstones and churned dirt coated in a layer of frost.
‘So Stirgar, what kind of thing is this? More precisely, how does a nargareth fight?’ Amaka asked as the nargareth sat back down, its point presumably having been made – there was no backing out.
‘It’s strong and fast. It can physically pull your head from your shoulders, and if that wasn’t enough, it has magic as well – obviously. But it isn’t just offensive spells; it can also summon things to fight on its side. I guess, since its dead, what it summons are those wraiths. The problem is the fact that it’s undying. That literally means it can’t die, as something is tethering it to this world – that is what we need to find and destroy. Do that and it dies, for good,’ Stirgar confirmed.
‘Has anyone got a read on what this thing’s stats are?’ Ben questioned.
‘I’ve just got “unknown”,’ Amaka replied.
‘I can’t see anything either, which is suspicious, as this thing isn’t a high enough level to block my magic,’ Stirgar said.
The nargareth raised his finger and pointed.
The wraiths flooded forwards, screaming and brandishing ethereal weapons, and with faces like they’d been drawn by someone who’d forgotten what a face looked like. Amaka slashed at one and her blade passed through it without any effect; Stirgar was holding a strange weapon with a thin, curved blade and a second shorter straight blade above it. The weapon had a red tinge to it, and as he struck the wraiths their shape distorted and they screamed. The wraths seemed to be unused to being hurt; they attacked with no thought for defence or countering. Syeda was able to hold large swathes at bay by swiping the staff around in simple circles; the wraiths had little taste for feeling pain.
Suddenly, the noise level dropped and the hairs on Amaka’s body prickled as a pit of blackness formed before the nargareth. The spell leaped from its fingers, and the air was rent apart as the spell surged forwards, destroying anything in its path, even wraiths. Syeda cast her eyes around desperately, looking for escape from the fatal spell. Her distraction cost her; a wraith took the chance to stab her, with the incorporeal blade slicing through the fat of her cheek. Syeda cried out in pain jerking back and stumbling to the floor. No blood came from the wound; indeed, there was no visible effect from the blade, but the pain was real enough. The wraith screamed in pleasure, ready to thrust again – this time for her throat – but the spell struck it, first freezing and then shattering the wraith. Syeda could feel the cold emanating from the spell, her breath froze in the air and she rolled to the side, tucking up into a ball and hoping the pillar beside her would protect her from the magicka. The spell smashed into the pillar and it exploded, with chunks flying through the air like bullets.
‘Syeda!’ Amaka shouted as Syeda disappeared into a cloud of debris.
The incredible coldness of the spell made Syeda’s lungs hurt as she breathed in super-cooled air; little ice crystals formed in her hair, her skin and her clothes. As the dust settled, and Syeda felt safe enough to move, she heard her clothing crack and parts of her hair snapped off, frozen solid. Parts of her exposed skin split and she had numerous bleed messages appear in her vision.
‘I’m okay!’ she replied after a coughing fit.
Another spell of pure entropy was fired at Amaka, who jumped onto a broken pillar and then over the spell. The epicentre of the spell was pure death, and even as Amaka jumped the extremities of the spell cost her valuable points and a slowed icon from the cold.
Stirgar summoned another massive pool of water, and it dropped down before anyone could react, engulfing friend and foe alike, and making the surface slick and heavy with mud and puddles.
‘What are you doing, fool?’ Amaka shouted.
There was the sound of glaciers breaking apart before a curse in a language none of them had heard before.
Quest update: in search of the true voice 2
You have discovered a second archaic language, but you have only heard the odd word in each language; increase your understanding of each language to continue your path towards the truth.
500 experience points (23,960 experience points to the next level)
Be careful; some things that are released cannot ever be put back. Just ask Pandora.
Skill increased: lore level 19
‘I’m stopping him from using ice magicka, now the surface water will freeze when he tries to use it, preventing him from casting it,’ Stirgar said.
Indeed, the nargareth was encased in a layer of ice, but it looked largely untroubled.
Syeda let out a victorious cry as her staff punctured a wraith’s stomach, and it folded like water being sucked down a plughole. Her victory was short lived as three other wraiths turned and focused on her.
Amaka took the opportunity of the distracted nargareth to attack it from behind, driving her axe with both hands through the back of the nargareth and through its neck. The nargareth moved its arm, and, as it did, frozen flesh snapped and dropped to the floor like shards of glass; unperturbed by the damage, it pulled the blade out of its neck and cast it away. The throw was casual, but the blade hit the wall and sank halfway to the hit.
Syeda jumped and danced around, using the frozen wraiths as jumping boards to alter her direction sharply, to slide over for momentum or, more than once, to leap off to gain height and speed to add to her wild blows with the staff. As she jumped over one form, she turned and rolled perpendicularly, like a sausage, tucking her arms in, and then pushed off the floor with a hand and thrust the staff out with the other hand. It was a fantastically balletic movement and put her staff skill up a point. However, her swing was wild, she failed to connect with anything, and one of the wraiths who was attempting to keep up with her used her poorly timed attack as a chance to counter, and its pale blade cut through Syeda’s leg. The pain was just as intense as a real cut; it once again left no visible mark, but her life was dropping with each blow.
The nargareth turned and hit Amaka with a blast of kinetic magicka, which threw Amaka through the air; with a loud crack, she impacted a wall, which knocked Amaka out cold and cut her life steeply.
‘It didn’t even pause! It took a sword through the neck and pulled it out like it was a splinter in the thumb!’ Ben shouted in shock, casually loosing an arrow in Syeda’s direction and taking out a wraith moments before it cut at Syeda’s calf.
‘It’s tied to something; something is keeping its soul trapped, and its body is maintained by magicka. We either need to wear the magicka out or destroy whatever has trapped it here,’ Stirgar replied, instead of the “unknown” stats on its life bar it instead read “immune”.
‘Otherwise, we’ll be fucked,’ Stirgar concluded, and he tossed a healing potion at Amaka.
It struck her chest and burst, the potion sprayed against her skin, and she jerked awake. It wasn’t a good way to take a potion, but, as there was an angry nargareth between Stirgar and Amaka, it was the best he could do.
Syeda rolled away from two wraiths, slipped as she attempted to get to her feet and landed heavily on her back. Something sparkling caught her attention, and she spun onto her feet and drove her staff around to keep the wraiths from taking advantage of her slip.
‘What’s that shiny thing?’ Syeda questioned, pointing to the roof of the room, where an object that had been obscured previously now cast a soft illumination.
The nargareth tried to cast its frost again, but its hand shattered as the ice expanded. With a roar of infuriation, the creature grabbed the staff off the chair, with its damaged arm slowly growing back, and it cast a spell that created will-o’-the-wisps in the air, which formed into new wraiths.
‘Your spell must have cleaned some grim away; hit it again!’ Ben called.
The nargareth crooned to the staff, which started to buck and twitch in its hands.
Syeda whacked a frozen wraith, shattering it and killing the trapped creature in the process; she was finding that they weren’t skilled fighters, rather it was their numbers that were causing her difficulties, and, although her staff work was poor, her years of running around and jumping off things was keeping her away from the fight.
‘There’s no need; there’s enough uncovered to get an idea of what it is and it’s not good. From the readings I’m getting off it, I’d guess it is a thaumaturgical coil or maybe even a thaumaturgy sphere,’ explained Stirgar.
‘What’s that? And does it help us?’ Amaka asked, drinking a health potion to get back into the fight.
The staff jumped from the nargareth’s hand; as it moved, its form bloated and elongated, morphing into an ebony snake with stubby wings. It looked about and focused on Stirgar, then moved suddenly with alarming speed.
Stirgar let out a cry of surprise and bolted off, calling over his shoulder as he did so, ‘Destroy the stone; kill the fiend!’
Syeda had lost track of one of the wraiths; as long as she kept moving, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. However, that was easier said than done, as Syeda was low on stamina and had already used two potions. Potion toxicity was unlikely, as Stirgar had only bought concentrated and elixir quality potions. The quality of the potion is not the same as the strength; the strength is how much health you receive, so health-infused water might give 5 health points. However, such a potion is usually very good quality. Quality reduces the chances of and impact of rebound effects, and the accumulated poison effects of mixing potions. Stirgar’s potions weren’t perfect, and so they did not reduce the rebound effect to zero. Draining stamina and downing one potion would – in a best-case scenario – leave a prevailing stitch, and cause excess sweating and heart palpitations when the effects wore off. Syeda’s stamina currently read as 50; once that figure reached the teens, her body would start to feel too heavy to move, so she had until then to win the fight or risk another potion. Two potions would – again, in a best-case scenario – cause a lingering migraine and muscle cramps, making it nearly impossible to move.
Syeda jumped onto a slab of ice, jumped of it and tried to arch her back to roll over a wraith. The wraith slashed out and caught Syeda on the thigh, but Syeda brought the staff down as she landed and hit the wraith a blow with all her body weight behind it. The wraith lost form and dissolved, and Syeda landed heavily due to the wound from the phantom knife, and she cursed. Her hair, drenched with sweat, slapped against her eyes, stinging them and making her blink quickly, sweat streamed down her face and she had to keep adjusting her grip on the staff.
‘I can’t keep this up!’ Syeda called out between panting for breath.
‘Get this thing off me!’ Stirgar yelled, his hands clutched his chest, possibly where his lungs or heart (hearts?) were. ‘This body is for comfort not this!’
The snake coiled, then sprang forwards and wrapped around the diminutive daemon. It pulled tighter and tighter, Stirgar’s face turned red, then purple, as he struggled to breathe from the constant and increasing pressure. His hands moved feebly as he tried desperately to move; his legs jerked – and not entirely intentionally.
As the nargareth reached out its arms, Amaka pounced forwards and sunk her hand into its chest where its heart should be. The nargareth didn’t flinch, Amaka noticed the immune notice in her battle log, and, a moment later, it had wrapped one hand around her throat, squeezing and lifting her whilst its other hand grabbed her arm, stopping her from pulling it out of his chest.
Syeda was on the defensive; it cost less stamina to defend than to attack; the problem was that one sufficiently powerful attack could win this, whereas she might end up defending in perpetuity. The wraith moved left to right and back again, like a cautious boxer, swiping its blade and pulling back as Syeda went to block with her staff. The newly summoned wraiths were nearly fully formed, whilst Syeda and the others were on their last legs.
Ben’s next arrow struck the nargareth in the side of the head; the explosive arrow took out the creature’s eye and cheek. It flinched and dropped Amaka, who staggered as she landed, and Ben smirked. Then Ben sensed motion behind him, but before he could turn he noticed the nargareth had regrown its hand and was preparing another spell. Ignoring the sensation he was being crept up on, Ben nocked another imbued arrow and loosed it. As his chest exploded in pain, Ben watched the nargareth being hit by the arrow and the magicka feedback flinging the nargareth across the room, saving the group from entropic death.
Then the wraith behind Ben struck again, and he stumbled forwards, his life plummeting as the wraith twisted its sword and ripped it through Ben’s back. Ben tried to roll to the side; the wraith struck again and swept its sword through Ben’s neck without breaking the skin, but severing Ben’s soul from his body.
There was a loud crack, and Amaka finally tore her attention away from the ghostly thread. Stirgar dropped to the floor, his body in an unnatural angle – his back was clearly broken and a few ribs had snapped and perforated his skin. The snake released Stirgar slowly and slithered away, ready to pick out its next prey.
Amaka ran around the outskirts of the room and up the steps to the balcony they entered through before she jumped off the balcony at the nargareth. It seemed surprised for a moment and then formed its spell of entropy and looked to swat Amaka out of the sky like a pesky fly. Amaka didn’t smile, she didn’t have time but this was exactly what she’d counted on and she used her trump card and teleported out of the spells path. She hadn’t purposely been saving the spell but was glad she hadn’t used it as the nargareth was completely stunned by Amaka’s sudden disappearance. But the surprised didn’t last long; it lasted just as long as it took the spell to impact the thaumaturgy sphere.
The nargareth’s flesh started peeling away like leaves blown in the wind, and, when it turned to look at Amaka, she could see its insides were filled with black dust. Then the celling made a noise like an electrical substation, and all her hair billowed out and stood on end cartoonishly. Amaka looked up and then dove to the ground moments before the crystal in the celling exploded.