Redmane leapt through the doorway after Samo, the wings of the Manticore unfurling behind him.

Too late.

The Keeper of the Well had already jumped from the edge of the stairs. Whether by accident or on purpose he couldn’t know, not that it mattered. But now he fell toward the dark water below, and the many arms of his minion, his body sheathed in flames and trailing smoke.

Redmane would have to follow him.

He ran to the edge, crouched like a diver, and shot straight down at the falling, burning beastman with his wings tucked in close.

Redmane’s claws dug into the flesh of Samo’s shoulders, then he he flapped his pinions back out at full strength, to arrest their fall and lift them up again. It took one, two, three beats of his wings, and at the trough of their fall the tentacles of the Envoy reached up to snag Samo’s ankles, to haul them both down or at least drag its summoner to safety.

It almost made it.

Almost, but not quite.

Redmane could feel the fire bubbling the flesh of his hands. His bones fared better, hardened as they were by his consumption of copious amounts of metal. Samo flailed in his arms, his arms wheeling and feet kicking, but Redmane’s claws held firm, flying upward in a more or less straight line. It was hard to navigate with smoke stinging his eyes.

Samo’s subordinates, whom he had healed after the first thrashing Redmane gave them, were barreling up the stairs toward them as fast as they could run. Which, for beastmen of their level, was quite fast indeed. They bounded across five steps at a time, ten steps at a time, some of them running on all fours. Ten sets of furious eyes trained on one spot in the center of the well.

Him.

Redmane ascended higher. And since the monks were cross with him already, he began taking bites out of their leader.

He started with the nape of the neck.

It crunched under his jaws, and Samo went limp.

Samo, Keeper of the Well, Slain

Tasks Completed 1/3

Level Up

Level 60 —> Level 61

Level 61 —> Level 62

Level 62 —> Level 63

Quality Points awaiting allocation: 3

He allocated the points as quickly as he could, between mouthfuls of burning flesh.

Grace 42 —> 45

—

Monster Skill Learned

Summon Envoy

Channeling Skill (Abyssal)

Rank 1

Active - 50 Gnosis

The Monster calls forth an Envoy of the Abyss from the depths of an Abyssal Well. The Envoy may be commanded to defend the Abyssal Well or the immediate area around it, relay a message to another Abyssal Well, or answer three of the summoner’s questions.

The answers given will always be correct within the Envoy’s knowledge. If the Envoy being questioned does not know the answer to a question, it will answer ‘unclear.’

This Skill may be used once per full cycle of the tides.

—

There would be time later to read that carefully. At the moment he had more pressing concerns.

An anguished monk leapt into the air to try and get at him, He nearly succeeded, but Redmane buffeted him back with his wings just enough to make him fall.

If he was lucky, the monk would fall into the water.

In a few moments there was a hard smack against damp stone. Not so fortunate.

Redmane looked down, noted that the Envoy was no longer present. The death of its master must have sent it back from whence it came.

Good to know, in case he had to go back down that way.

But his enemies had been courteous enough to bring themselves close to him.

Redmane consumed a generous helping of Samo’s flesh, tossed half of it on the staircase for later and swooped down on the cluster of charging monks.

Corpus: 3565

Flame Breath

Gnosis: 699

Some raised their arms to protect their heads from Redmane’s strafing fire. A few were too slow, and took it full on the face.

Redmane flew past, circled around and considered another pass. But decided against it.

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He’d rather get his claws wet.

He bore down on them like a dragon, and ripped into the front rank of the pack.

This time, they couldn’t surround him. This time he had them funneled by the staircase. The only way to flank or encircle him would be to take flight, and it appeared he had the monopoly on that ability.

And now that he could pay it some mind, he noticed just how splendid the Vorpal quality was.

His claws swept through robes, muscles, sinews and bone as if passing through empty air. An arc of space in front of him became the place beastmen came to be slashed to ribbons, effortlessly. Redmane could almost hear the Beast Within howl in exultation as the scent of fresh blood surrounded him, painting the walls and the stairs, severed heads and limbs and shreds of viscera hailing around him through showers of red.

Bloodlust made him faster, and faster, and faster. An impossible blur of thought and motion.

In the aftermath, Redmane realized his claws may have become too efficient.

He stood before a gore-slicked section of stairs, without much in the way of solid body parts to dine upon. And he didn’t especially feel like crouching down and licking the stones.

Best to carry on from here.

But first, he went back to the System and re-read the description of Summon Envoy.

He supposed the ‘Abyssal Well’ in question was the well from which it emerged.

Which would explain this whole strange structure. Why it was so deep beneath the earth. The well wasn’t simply a source of water. It was a source of magic. Potent magic, if the substance of the Envoy’s eldritch body were any indication.

Redmane peered down into the darkness at the bottom of the stairs. He could see the water.

He was tempted to summon the Envoy and ask it questions, but he didn’t know what he ought to ask. It would be a shame to leave this place without at least trying, however. According to the description, the Skill would only work here.

Or wherever else there happened to be an ‘Abyssal Well.’

Redmane stepped off the ledge and fell, thrust out his wings to catch the air and let him glide all the way back down to the bottom of the well.

He alighted on its edge, folded in his wings stepped up to the very edge of the water.

Summon Envoy

Gnosis: 649

The surface of the water bulged again, as the spherical mass of the Envoy’s body slowly rose from the it and sprouted eyes. Tentacles emerged from it like the roots of a tree. It mutely stared down at its summoner, its many appendages blending seamlessly with the surface of the black water.

“I have questions,” he said.

The Envoy will answer.

It spoke directly into his mind, the way Pietr did.

Redmane thought about what to ask it.

He remembered the portrait of Sencis Karalis, on the wall in his half eaten castle.

He remembered the story of Kraal the Devourer.

He remembered being called Little Redcap.

He remembered being beaten and starved.

Even now he had trouble understanding it all.

Redmane stared down at the water, watching it ripple. Then he looked up at the Envoy.

“What am I?”

A broken thing. A shard of a shard.

“What do you mean,” asked Redmane. “A shard of what?”

A Primordial God, betrayed by its progeny.

“Can I become whole again?”

A thing, once broken, will never be the same.

And just as quickly as it had appeared, the Envoy of the Abyss sank back down into the waters, which went perfectly still afterward.

Redmane stared.

A thing, once broken, will never be the same. He supposed he knew that already. He’d suffered much.

But even when he lived with a chain on his ankle, in a cell one third the size of this pool, he found that he wasn’t one for introspection. Not usually. Better to keep the mind busy. Better to stay in motion, even if one didn’t have much freedom of movement to speak of.

And now he had all the freedom he’d ever dreamed of.

No wonder he hadn’t stopped to process things. How could he have?

Here and now though, Redmane felt a few things slide into place.

He hated the name ‘Little Redcap.’ He had no fond feelings for some bygone king, Sencis Karalis. The tale of Kraal the Devourer was, so far as he was concerned, a cautionary tale.

It was all his story. And however ambivalent he might feel about it all, value could be plucked from each portion.

He could wield the ruthless might and lordly grace of a King.

He could know kindness and mercy, because Little Redcape received precious little.

And he could know restraint. Because Kraal the Devourer brought suffering upon the whole world, and such a thing should not happen ever again. No matter how Pietr might feel about it.

So it was good that he would never be the same.

It would be better to evolve.

Redmane looked up into the blur of darkness, stretched out his wings and took flight.

The ascent felt interminable. The sheer size of this structure boggled the mind. It had to have been built with the assistance of magic. The stairs wound around and around the central shaft, for what felt like a mile. Redmane wondered if the effort of flying was even worth it, if he should dismiss his wings and simply walk.

But that didn’t look like it would be necessary.

The haze of darkness above his head was clearing. After a seemingly interminable flight, he saw the final landing.

The staircase terminated in a broad, flat entryway to a structure above, a great chapel, by the look of it. Redmane alighted on the landing and dismissed his wings, walking up into the early morning light.

There was another short ascent up a few stairs, and he found himself in the chapel.

It did not resemble the church Pietr and his cronies had hijacked. Nor the one on the map, marking the location of the Seal of the Sphinx. This one looked older. Redmane couldn’t explain how he knew this. He could simply tell, by looking around.

But apart from the stonework and calligraphy, churches tended to be the same throughout time. There were pews with a walkway in between them, and a lectern at the end of the lane. Outside the windows he saw homes and businesses crowded in by high stone walls.

He’d made it to the town of Rollo’s Pass, perhaps.

But before he could go see, he’d have to attend to the two individuals in the church with him.

They had been praying when he entered the chapel. But the moment they sensed his presence, they turned and glared down at him with open hostility.

Both were beastmen, of giant proportions. Redmane thought they resembled grotesquely muscular versions of Valtr and Vengarl, one tall and lanky, the other short, round bellied and barrel chested. They wore the robes of monks, similar to that of Samo and his recently deceased companions below.

Almoner Blazh

Monster Type: Corrupted

Level 80

Blazh was the tall, lanky one. His robes had seen better days. And the ashen color of his hair and beard was a near perfect match to his chalky, pallid skin.

Abbot Vasili

Monster Type: Corrupted

Level 80

Vasili was rotund, and thick of limb. He wore no beard, and kept his head shaved bald. This did nothing to hide the feral qualities of his face.

“What is this…” said Blazh, glaring. He spoke in a gravely, raspy voice.

“It came from below…” said Vasili, who spoke in a sibilant tone.

“How could it have evaded the Keeper of the Well,” said Blazh.

“I killed the Keeper of the Well and ate his remains,” said Redmane. “Some of his remains, at least. I discarded the rest on the bloody stairs.”

Both their eyes widened in shock and anger.

Redmane grinned and stretched out his claws.