There was something eerie about walking down a street of ruins when the only thing to keep you company was your own steps. Occasionally a particularly porous pebble would crunch under a boot to spice things up. The thin fog that permeated everything certainly didn't help.
Noticing a particularly intact old stone house to his left, he went over to have a look inside. He had done it a few times already, but those had been of the early medieval design. This one looked to be from around the sixteen hundreds by how much smoother the stone walls were, and he could see a few of the rafters were still intact. Sadly this one lacked a door, too, as the others had. Carefully sticking his head inside, he quickly scouted around, but it looked as empty as the others had been. Turning back to the left, he spotted something sticking out of the fireplace. The dirt floor was surprisingly hard as he made his way over to the old fireplace, considering there were large holes in the roof, and rain was still a thing, he hoped. He had noticed so many discrepancies to what he would consider nature at this point anyway, so he really couldn't be too sure anymore. The bottom of the fireplace was covered in what he imagined to be old coal and ashes that had made a singular lump of black hard gop covering the entire inside of the fireplace floor, and it had at one time flooded out on the floor. What had caught his attention was something straight sticking up from the back of the otherwise smooth but lumpy piece of coal and soot. Crouching down, he reached out and pulled hard, hoping to dislodge the thing. Dislodged it was, he found out a moment later when he was lying on his back holding a soot-covered fire poker in one hand. It came free a lot easier than he had imagined.
The fire poker was in surprisingly good condition. It was as long as his arm and surprisingly light, or he needed to adjust to having a higher Body attribute. He had at one point tried fencing for a very brief time, but nothing much came of it. Standing, he made a lunge and drew back into a quarte. Yeah, probably best to use it for some good old clubbing and not the fun sort. It felt sturdy enough as he gave it a few good swings, the poker whistling through the air. Analyze just informed him it was worthless. Ambros disagreed. Having a weapon on top of spells gave him confidence, no matter how misplaced. He was about to whistle a tune when he turned towards the door and could see a thick rolling fog outside.
It felt wrong, full of malice and hunger. Ambros wanted nothing to do with it. Tendrils started making their way inside as he cast Control Wind to create a pane of air on the entrance, stopping any sound or smell from reaching the outside. The tendrils that already made it inside was cut and dissipated into nothing. Taking careful steps, he made it to the closest corner. Hopefully, the fog wouldn't come in from the roof. He didn't have enough mana to keep the entire roof closed off. Coaxing the dirt floor with Control Earth, he made two walls grow, just a few fingers thick but hard as stone. When they reached the height of the building's walls, he had it encapsulate him by making a flimsy roof and a cut-out horizontal and vertical line at his eye height so he could see the room.
The fog was rolling by the entrance now, dense and swirling against the pane of air. He thought he could feel a slight vibration coming up through the floor, but that could just be his imagination. The menacing feeling persisted. Just looking at it, he knew that if he was caught out in that, he would be devoured. If it hadn't been for the sun in the sky, he would have thought an eternity passed. It hadn't moved far across the sky before something new let itself be known through the pane of air. A grotesque profile, hairless, gray skin stretched over the brow, sloping to sharply backward. Yellow goatlike eyes too far out on the side of its face, the nose was two slits, elongated protruding mouth with sharp uneven teeth and a gray gum that reached past its fleshless lips. Drops of liquid kept falling from its upper lip and teeth, dribbling down on the ground and making small sounds of sizzling as they hit the ground. The skin of taunt over its long neck as it stretched out, sniffing the air like a dog searching for prey. Then a clawed hand made its way in, soon followed by the rest of its body, looking too much like an emaciated human for comfort. It may very well have been a human at one point.
Ghoul, he didnt know the exact progeny of this one, but they all had a few things in common. Their spit contained corrosive properties, and their claws were coated in a toxin that would cause paralyzation over time. Ambros quickly added another pane of air over the opening in his hideyhole. Hoping he hadn't been too late. Mind racing a million miles a minute, he tried coming up with a proper counter or something to get him out of the possible scenario that was playing out in front of him.
Meanwhile, the ghoul was crawling around the floor, sniffing. It seemed to pay extra attention to the areas Ambros knew he had walked on. It didnt take long for it to pick up on the path he had made in the small building.
The ghoul scrambled around, sniffing like a dog on the hunt. The formless lump of soot and coal seemed to give it pause. Getting closer, it sniffed at it one more time before sneezing, flinging droplets of corrosive spittle everywhere. Backing away while growling at the formless lump, the ghoul almost made it to the exit before stopping. Giving another baleful glare around the room before sneezing again, it moved its head towards the sun still shining inside the building before turning around and jumping into the fog outside.
Carefully Ambros let out the breath he had been holding, trying to get his racing heart under control. He had no illusions about surviving a fight with a ghoul in close quarters, newly acquired fire poker or not. He did find it curious it chose to stay in the sunlight as long as it did. They normally hated it since it caused them harm like a high amount of radiation would to a human. Considered semi-intelligent, they had some sort of self-preservation, unlike zombies. A mixture of light and life mana was the normal way to destroy or drive lesser undead like ghouls away, or zombies for that matter.
Removing the pane of air he had over his peeping lines, Ambros immediately regretted it. The house smelled foul beyond belief, even with the missing roof. The fog was still rolling on past the doorway, making him shudder. There was something more than just a spell to keep the sun away from a few lesser undead at work here. The malice and hunger from the fog itself made it seem alive. He didnt dare to use Arcane Sight. It would light up the place he was hiding like a flare to whatever turned its head towards him. Despite himself, he watched the rolling mass in fascination as it almost made tendrils dance against the pane of air he had covered the door with. It was almost hypnotic. Occasionally a hand or a claw would make its way inside, startling him out of the trance of trying to find patterns he knew didnt exist in the fog, only to be quickly withdrawn. The human mind is strangely fond of patterns. We are wired to look for them. It's why so many seem to fall for strange conspiracy theories. If you can find something logical for them to follow, someone is bound to believe it. That the logic is based on a false foundation doesn't matter, you just need to convince them something is there, and the brain will do the rest.
By how much the sun had moved, he would guess only an hour had passed when a shambling zombie entered. It must have come at some speed because it just appeared all at once, breaking through the pane of air and continuing straight across the room, crashing against the opposite wall where it bounced back and fell on its back. Then it just lay there, not really doing anything but opening and closing its rotten jaw. Ambros almost pissed himself from the fright. He already needed to go trying to keep his mind off waterfalls, faucets and other things remotely connected to flowing water when the zombie had just hurled itself across his vision. That his bladder still was full was a testament to his iron will.
Something was bothering him about the zombie as it lay there getting a tan, trying to catch flies with its mouth. He couldn't figure it out initially, but then he noticed its clothes. They were new, as in modern. Suit and tie. It looked like the zombie had entered a Suits R Us and bought some crappy ready-fit blue work suit, a white shirt and black tie hours ago. The clothes and the rotten face didnt fit. Noticing that the fog was getting thinner as it passed the building entrance, he canceled the spell keeping the fog out. A few tendrils made their way inside as if alive and seeking something, but they soon dissipated into the air. He could hear several sets of boots walking past, not dragging their feet like zombies were wont to do, or the scraping sound that ghouls made, but heavy boots stomping down on the ground. Since he couldn't see outside, he cast Control Earth and made a thin horizontal line through the exterior wall facing the road.
Vampires. He almost called out before remembering he had none of the guardians he normally would have around, and neither did he know if they knew what his name meant in whatever place this was. While vampires were intelligent, they were predatory. When he had visited the tributary worlds of the Council where the undead resided, he had always traveled with Gramps. Having someone along for the trip that could annihilate an entire clan, country, or world as an afterthought depending on how pissed off you made them was a great deterrent to their otherwise thirsty disposition. Somehow he doubted these ones would care about his lineage as much as their own.
There were three, two in the front and one walking further back alone. The vampires had robed blood thralls or aspiring vampires, carrying a large canvas above them to block out the sun. They would have to be young, then. The older ones generally couldn't stay awake during the day. Ironically, the more powerful a vampire was, the more damaging the sun was to them. The two in the front looked to be giggling over something. The female was dressed in jewelry. That was about it. The male looked like a Renaissance fop. Going by how he was fawning over and all but kissing the ground where the female walked, Ambros imagined fop was an appropriate description. The one walking behind was clad in chainmail and plate armor. A massive sword hilt sticking up from his back, he looked disgusted at what was happening before him. Not too fond of the bootlicker, are we?
Sadly he couldn't hear what they were talking about in the front there, and the other brown-robed people walking around didnt say anything, so he was a bit of a loss. He did decide that contacting them as he was now would probably end badly. When he had time to create some Rune stones that he could use against the undead, they would at least stand more on an equal footing. When they walked out of sight, Ambros finally brought his attention back to the zombie lying there, looking into the sun. It had absolutely no self-preservation did it. He could see the skin on its face peeling off in flakes, the rotting hard flesh being exposed in patches, its eyes becoming hazed as it kept looking at the sun.
Deciding he had waited long enough, he used Control Earth to remove one of the two walls he had created and gently stepped out. The zombie hadn't noticed him yet. Checking that his Arcane Shield was in place, he always kept it up, but sometimes double checking was not the worst habit he could have. He slowly made his way to the doorway and quickly checked if anything else was lurking outside. All clear. Taking four long steps, he smacked the fire poker down on the zombie's head before it could react. He could see the dent in the zombie's skull, but it wasn't out of commission, as he soon noticed when it flipped over almost unnaturally quick and grabbed at his legs, just short. Almost in a panic, Ambros brought the fire poker down on the back of the zombie's head with all his might two more times. It stopped trying to drag at his legs. His heart couldn't take many more of these, he thought while sinking down against the nearest wall while keeping a close eye on the damn zombie.
Battle Award
20 Exp
30 Sp.
Do you wish to loot the corpse?
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Yes, who didn't want loot? Why even ask? When he felt something soft hit his face and land on his lap moments later. Looking down on the dried, rotten right ear of a human in his lap as the zombie he had just brained dissipated in the air as fine dust, he had his answer. Some things were just not worth looting. Picking up the disgusting thing he looked closer at it when he noticed something shimmering white, the size of a rice grain. A grain of mana. Touching it with his finger, it stuck, and he brought it up to his eyes. It was almost depressing, but his one grain of compress power represented more mana than his entire mana pool. Hell, it was three or four times his mana pool. Deciding to also keep the ear, for now, he stuffed each one in a different pocket of his jacket.
Outside, things looked clear no fog, vampires, or ghouls. He could see a few zombies standing against a wall or in small groups facing each other. If he didnt know better, he would have said it looked like a regular Saturday night after the last call for drinks. Only missing a few fights for unknown reasons, some public indecency and a particularly vocal piece of work going at a boyfriend's car with a barstool for cheating. Ambros almost felt nostalgic for a moment.
The sun still gave him plenty of time to get far away from the vampires before night came around. He would need to start thinking of countermeasures to the undead. Even a zombie was a possible life-threatening encounter for him at the moment. No artifacts, guardians, proper weapons or equipment. What he did have was mana and six very useful but limited spells when it came to mass destruction until he became more powerful, at least. When it came to the undead, you wanted mass destruction. Ambros also remembered reading each new level would improve his base stats, and a higher level meant higher damage output from Arcane Bolt. Even with the time it took to cast, he could take down a trickle of zombies if they were far enough apart. More levels meant more power, which led to him hopefully surviving until he found someone reasonable to talk to, and maybe show him the way to the nearest massage parlor. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the grain of mana. Then there was this. He had a very dumb plan for it. Brilliant, brilliant plan for it.
Deciding his original direction was the way to go, he continued the in the direction he imagined East was. To his relief, the zombie seemed to be partly blind in the sunlight. It still amazed him that they were able to function this well at all during the daytime. It had to be something to do with the haze that permeated everything. That or some grand necrotic casting had gone horribly wrong sometime in the past here. There was also the possibility of an artifact or great natural treasure, but the share scale of the area that was covered made that improbable. He would have loved to study an artifact or treasure that could do that. His brief sting into studying necrotic energies didnt really make him an expert in the field, but he understood it enough to raise a few minor undead or how the energies in play were put together in the weaker spell constructs.
It was an interesting subject among many other interesting subjects, so he just didnt have the full knowledge to fight necrotic energy with necrotic energy. However, he could fight necrotic energy with life and light energy. Against lesser undead, an 80/20, the aspects of life mana and light mana seemed to be the best all-around bet to disrupt what was animating them. He just needed a proper delivery system.
Stopping at the lefthand corner of a building just before an intersection, he could see a group of four zombies standing almost in the middle of the road in the direction he was heading on the other side. They didnt seem to be doing anything by looking at the ground, occasionally one would turn to bite at the air towards the one standing next to it, and that set off a biting symphony where they stood snapping their teeth towards each other, but they settled down quickly enough between rounds. To his right, across the street, he could see a few zombies walking in and out of a brick townhouse entrance. By the clothes, he could see the same ones going around. The nine he could see were just going in a neverending loop between the road and the entrance. It was slightly disturbing, like a chain of prisoners forced to march forever. Peeping around the corner to his left, he could see a zombie on the ground around twenty steps away and two zombies standing over it, one at its legs and one at its head. The building he was leaning against looked like it could have come from the 18th century, three stories high and made of bricks. None of the windows he could see still had glass panes; otherwise, it looked surprisingly whole. Not that he could see the roof where he was standing. On the opposite side was the rubble of what could have been a modern building from any of the poor parts of a city. It still had some of one wall intact, but most of the building had crashed into the center as if it had imploded at some point, and they never bothered to finish the job. Putting a few choice rocks in his pocket, Ambros carefully entered the old brick building through the entrance he had passed on the way, a few steps back.
The first floor was surprisingly clear, with no ladder down into the abyss of his imagination or anything. Just a completely open large room with stairs going up in the corner of the building. The smell wasn't any worse than outside, and everything was lit enough that he almost became optimistic about the endeavor. Crawling towards the stairs so his movements wouldn't attract any of the zombie's gaze, he could feel how loose some floorboards were. Either the foundation was uneven, the beams they rested on had started to sag, or whatever insanity had put together, this Rorschach blob of a city had just plopped the building down without any thought or meaning.
The staircase was equally eager to announce his presence to the world. He had to carefully make his way up with a foot on each end of the boards while going up. When he got his head far enough into the second floor, he could see three doors on either side of the hallway. On the other side was a small table with a bowl on top and the stairs to the last floor.
Fully out of the stairs, he checked the window behind him and could just about catch sight of all the zombies he had observed from the corner of the intersection. Nothing had changed regarding the zombie situation. Walking while trying to feel for loose boards wasn't easy in boots, but he managed without making too much noise. Testing the handle on the first door to the right, it slid open smoothly. The room was windowless, but there still came enough light from the hallway to see everything well. The dust on the floor was startlingly thick when he remembered there had been none in the hallway or downstairs. A large wooden table stood in the middle of the room with some uncomfortable-looking chairs, a cupboard in the far right corner and a coffee table in the far left corner. Nothing immediately to the right or left of him. Sliding a booted foot through the dust, he propped the door open with one of the rocks he had picked up. Taking a top of a chair in one hand to move it from the table, it came loose in his hand. It felt like touching a sandcastle. One made of extremely fine sand. The other chairs and even the table proved to be the same. It wasn't long until there was only a mound of dust where there once had been table and chairs. Disappointed, he tried the same with the coffee table to a similar result. Making his way over to the cupboard, he almost tripped and fell as his boot caught on something under the layer of dust. Using the fire poker, he eventually found the outline of whatever was under there and gently pushed the dust to one side. It looked like a trapdoor on the floor. The metal band outlining it had started to come loose. Maybe the dust had once been a thick carpet covering the floor. That would explain some of the dust but not why the structure hadn't turned to dust. It would remain a mystery for now.
He started prying the trapdoor open using the fire poker, which was surprisingly firm. With a great heave, he got it open.
Exploration award
Secret stash
500 Exp
2000 Sp
Well, completely open would be better to say as it flew out of the hole it was covering and hit the cupboard, turning it to dust and a crash as it hit the interior wall. Standing still, Ambros listened for any movement from downstairs while reading the system prompt. He hadn't exactly expected that, but it did bring him a lot closer to level 2.
For around ten minutes, he stood there listening before he dared to start looking into the opening on the floor. At first, he could just see more wooden boards, but as he made his way around, he could see something made of metal. He reached between the floorboards, got a hold of the thing, and took it out of the hole. It was a long thin metal box. He gave a guess at the tin, but it was heavy. He decided to go out to the hallway to get a better look at the thing. He grabbed the rock he had used to prop the door open on his way out and stood closer to one of the street windows.
The box was gorgeous. When he had it out in the sun, he could see the box was made of silver. The engraving on the outside showed a hunting scene of men on horseback blowing straight, long spiraling horns while chasing something that looked like a large three-tailed fox through a woodland. They were separated by a stream running down the middle of the box. The four clasps came off easily as he held it in the crook of his left hand. Not sure what to make of what he saw, he first took out the long, thick metal walking stick. He could see it was made from good steel, and the engraving in gold inlay was even more beautiful than what was on the box. It was a little longer than his arm and was topped with some sort of palm-sized crystal, presumably to fit in the hand while a gentleman was having his afternoon walk along the riverside or some such bull crap? Sure, it was beautiful, but also about as useful as the fire poker he already had, less so since he would be frightened to hurt the engraving. If he couldn't feel that it had enchantments on it, he would have just put it back in the box and see if that vampire dandy needed a knobbed stick. Tucking a walking stick in the crook of his right arm, he took the other things that occupied the box. A silver ring and a stack of ten gold coins. Well, at least he had something to spend if he ever made it to civilization. The ring was a plain band of silver, but he could feel it was enchanted too. Anylize just told him that the stick was valuable and the ring was very valuable. Ambros wondered what it used to measure something's value. If it was his current affluence, most things could be considered valuable. Hell, before the gold coins came into his possession, his greatest possession after his clothes was an old iron poker.
Hunkering down, he turned his Arcane Sight on. At least he could confirm that they both had enchanted engravings. Strangely, the stick had a double layer running down from the top. One outside and one inside. That made him think it may be hollow. Turning the stick over and around, the bottom had a slightly thicker base of steel, no hole. The crystal top looked nice, but it was also a single piece. In fact, if they hadn't been of clearly different materials, the crystal may have been an extension of the steel cane. There was no seam he could see, a perfectly smooth transition. Running a thumb along the cane's top part, he noticed it was more rugged than it looked. It would be a great handle if he needed to wack someone with his cane. Almost stroking his thumb along the surface, he found it. His mana was practically shouting to be let loose at the spot, so he did. He almost dropped it as the outer layer melted towards his hand, stopping over his thumb. With a grin, Ambros lifted the now sharp and elegant-looking sword. That was one awesome sword cane. The engravings along the blade mirrored the ones he remembered when it had been a cane. The blade was about the length of his arm, thin but flexible. He had no doubt he could shave with it, looking at the edge. The handle was a bit longer than he was used to, but the balance was perfect with the added guard that the metal wrapped around the blade had made. When he extended his arm, it felt right. The large crystal probably had something to do with the weight distribution too. He almost jumped at having a proper weapon but decided against it at the last moment. He didnt want to crash through the floor today.
Sending some mana into the same spot, the guard melted down over the blade again, making it a nice walking stick again. Yeah, things were looking up. The ring still confounded him. Taking a leap of faith, he put it on since the System had called the loot something he was awarded. Fitting fine on his right ring finger, he instinctively knew what it was. It was a small dimensional storage item or dimensional pouch. It seemed to be a weak one by what he was used to. He would be surprised if it could fit more than a few tons. They were common back home, but you didnt normally bring them when staying with regular humans. The Council frowned on it. There had been some incidents with a yacht suddenly plopping down in front of a few thousand people, precious art being taken for personal viewing and that sort of fun, so Ambros seldom bothered having one on anymore unless he knew he was traveling. The ring didnt seem all that great, but then again, to a beggar, it was a national treasure, and he was very much a beggar now. Storing everything but the cane in the ring, he tried rummaging inside, and to his surprise, he found barrels of stuff. What that stuff was would remain a mystery until he was back on sturdy ground. There was rope, what he thought might be camping equipment, climbing gear, pouches of dried mystery meat, berries, and fruit. Yeah, the stash had definitely been tailored for him, well, almost. It would have come with a gate to go home if it was for him.
Standing up, cane in hand, he looked out the window, ensuring nothing had changed outside. However, he was reconsidering his plan now. Things had changed. No, in the worst case, it would give him valuable data before he died. Best-case scenario, it would give him valuable data, and he could continue living for a few more days. Nodding to himself at his internal dialog Ambros took a step forward. It was time to clear the remaining five rooms before he went upstairs to see what the last floor offered. Then, he would see if he could make it rain zombies.