Chapter 18: Lord of Bones
III
Tension built as the day drew to a close, the moon had risen early and only added to the atmosphere. Through the previous day, the clouds had grown heavier, and now, on the cusp of nightfall, the world was bathed in the oppressive yellow of stormlight. The excitement I had felt upon finding another of my limbs, my entire left arm, had waned at the challenge that was set forth before me. Orlando, upon further consideration, had taken my radial bone from me and left in my possession only the smallest bone of my skeletal body’s pinky finger - to be used only in dire need. The rest of the box had been placed, unlocked, with the rest of the battle supplies - in a corner of the marshalling yard between the strongest remaining walls. The box sat alongside other items we had managed to scavenge:
* A rack of spears, which Orlando planned to throw.
* A barrel of assorted pole arms and another of one/two handed weapons, to be used if he lost his ghostly, black zweihänder in the coming fray.
* Wooden buckets filled with hand sized bits of rubble, perfect for throwing down on anything which tried to scale the walls.
* A pile of any dry wood we could find, to create a large bonfire that would let Orlando see if we were attacked at night - as it appeared we would be.
We discussed our positions, I would be stationed atop the most sturdy wall, above our supplies, and I would try to attack from on high. Orlando was impressed with my forethought when I relayed that I had left a crack as a bottleneck, and he agreed to hold that position alongside our new stoney friends. Speaking of, now that all the walls had been repaired, I had the trio of golems digging pit traps in the forest at the bottom of the hill which held aloft Far-Reach Fort.
I turned my back to give the order and when I turned back Orlando had disappeared again, seconds later he fell from the overcast sky, back into the fort. The ease with which he came and went somewhat eroded my faith in our defences. Over his shoulder was slung a deer. The speed with which he had achieved the feat made me feel sorry for all the Hunters I had met.
“Here,” he said, handing me the carcass. Not knowing how to respond, I took the body, my arms sagging under the weight, he had made it look as light as a feather.
“What do I do with this?” I asked, struggling under the mass of the creature.
“You've been working all day, you need to eat,” he elaborated.
“Ahh… yes… I, I don’t know how to cook,” I admitted, trying to get out of what I knew was an inevitability.
“That’s fine,” he reassured, "I may not be a chef but I’ve cooked for a camp of hungry soldiers a time or two.” The words were clearly said with force joviality but, despite myself, I found the concern touching. Orlando took back the body with one hand, with the other he withdrew his six-foot blade from its back harness. With apparent ease he threw the meat into the air and before it struck the ground it was skinned, gutted, and sliced into neat cuts of meat. The skin rolled itself up, the guts buried themselves, and the meat landed on a wooden table. All I could see was a flash of onyx metal and I was left to wonder if I truly knew anything of magic.
My slack jawed expression seemed to bring some genuine joy to the Paladin, though he tried to hide it - poorly.
“Can you light the fire?” he asked, indicating the pile of wood. It took me a moment to regain myself; when I did, I sparked the conflagration dumbly. I was still in a mild state of shock when presented before me was a platter of meat, cooked to perfection.
“Don’t you want any?” I asked, stupidly; when Orlando thrust the plate towards me, insistently. In response he passed his non platter holding hand through his plate holding one. My brain was kicked back into life by a million questions about the nature of poltergeists beginning to sprout. I had to nip them in the bud however, there was clearly no way out of this. I knew, being a zombie, anything I ate would simply sit in my stomach and rot. But in order to maintain appearances I took hold of the meat mountain. Orlando seemed pleased by my sustenantle acceptance. I had to admit, it smelled divine. I could always cut out the foot later, I consoled myself as I put slice after slice on my tongue. To give me as long as possible I secretly used the Preserve Meat spell on the pile.
When I was half way through, a noise, like the bellow of an internal elephant, took both of our attention and Orlando jumped to the top of the wall to investigate. By the stony expression on the man’s face I knew dinner time was over, I felt a mixture of relief and sorrow, the food had been truly delicious; I hadn’t realised how much one could miss it.
Climbing the wooden stairs to the battlement, as I couldn’t jump twenty feet, I looked at what had stolen the sparks of joy from the Paladin’s demeanour. The sight that greeted me made my freshly filled stomach churn, and I instantly regretted my meal.
The atmosphere was oppressive, the storm embodied twilight and left a lagging impression of any object that moved too quickly. The Giant bronze bull, whose metal was tarnished by the heat and who had mesmerising patterns along its flanks, dancing in time to the flames within, had stopped moving about 300 feet from the base of the hill on which our fort waited. The ash creatures, which followed him in eerie silence, had begun a shambling advance. Their target was not a direct attack however; they moved from tree to tree, setting them ablaze with the embers that seemed buried within their ashy flesh. They were cleaning a path, while their main attacker waited impatiently - smoke rising from its nostrils.
The billows of black soot made their way into the sky, collecting into a cloud at eye level with us on the wall. A contrasting white illusion began to manifest upon the smoky cloud. Orlando and I watched in stern silence until the figure coalesced into a familiar face. The profile of Maniae manifested upon the dark sky bubble. She appeared calm, though very much in charge.
“I must admit,” she began without any preamble, “you were the most entertaining mortal we’ve ever had as our guest, but you cannot be allowed to leave. The rules state that you must beat three contestants in the coliseum to be allowed to depart, and to receive the prize.”
“I was never given any list of rules, without my agreement they are not magically binding!” I protested, shouting into the twilight air.
“I can’t hear you, this is one way,” she responded, raising a hand to stall me.
Wait a minute, I thought, puzzling that one out.
“If you’d have just won all of your matches you would have been able to leave with my blessing,” she continued with a sigh. “But since you have left our domain, I'm forced to bring the third round to you, if you win, you can have this,” she said, producing a dull, dark purple, metal band; the width of a human head. It realised itself from the projection and dropped onto the horn of the beast, becoming a horn decoration. “My sister thinks we should just send all our forces to kill you, and while I can’t speak for her followers, they will leave you if you manage to survive the night - I believe in fairness.”
“Fairness, fairness?! You don’t know the meaning of the word!” Orlando bursted out, shouting with emotion. “How many people did you force me to slay, because they came too close to beating your little game.”
“Silence,” the woman bellowed, bending the surrounding trees with her volume. The facade of calm surety fell away, broken by her anger. Her hair began to float of its own accord, points aiming themselves at Orlando. The whites of her eye’s turned red. The image blurred for a moment and she was back to normal.
“You don’t know the significance of the Trials but rest assured we are just observers, we may choose the combatants but whether the participant wins or loses is up to fate, that selfish bitch,” she said, adding the last under her breath.
“And now that you have slipped my grasp you can bet there will be any number of gods looking to control an undead Paladin, the perfect receptacle for holy or unholy mana. You may have escaped me but you cannot escape your fate, you are and shall ever remain a pawn,” she ended with a satisfied smile before dispersing in the wind, a haunting chuckle all that remained. I looked over to Orlando, a vein bulged on his forehead and his hands clenched so hard I could feel tremors in the air from its shaking. He took in a long, slow breath then breathed out.
He saw me looking at him, concerned, and spoke, “I’ll be fine,” he reassured, but even I could see the nervousness he hid behind those words. While this exchange had been going on, I had ordered my golems to return and they had just clambered their way through the entry crack. I turned from our coming foe to address them:
“You three are now known as the Rubble Rousers, your job is to destroy anything that enters this fort that isn’t me or Orlando,” I ordered, pointing to myself and him in turn. The three stone giants saluted as one.
Notification:
* Fort Far-Reach’s Labourers have decreased from 3 to 0
* Fort Far-Reach’s fighters have increased from 0 to 3
As soon as the units changed roles the Settlement SystemV.2.1.7 demonstrated another of its abilities. Much as I was able to see blue and red illusions demonstrating where a building could be placed I could see similar images for the positions of my troops. I tested moving the images from one side of the courtyard to the other, when I affirmed the position of the blue hologram the golems began marching into position.
“What are they doing?” Orlando asked.
“Nothing,” I replied, deciding to stop messing with the ability.
We spent the next little while just sitting and watching the army set up. I argued that we should prepare further but Orlando shot the idea down, saying that it was better to be rested before a fight. We climbed to the peak of the castle and watched from atop its roof.
Just as the last of the light fled and winds from the oncoming storm really started to pick up, whistling through the holey abandoned fort, we saw the second unit of the army arrive to complete the encirclement. To the east was the bull and his forces. To the south was the sea to the north there was nothing, although my Scrying spell still picked up a number of red dots and Life Sense told me there were figures lurking in the trees; though the resolution wasn’t good enough to determine what they were from this distance. And in the east, the new arrivals. Cart sized tree frogs, a vibrant green with accents of various colours and placid black eyes. They jumped higher than the tallest trees but when they landed they appeared to disappear. I had at first assumed that they teleported but that wasn’t the case.
The same ones seemed to jump up from the points at which they fell, are they turning invisible? I wondered. No, upon a closer inspection I could see what was going on.
“Are they shrinking and expanding?” I asked Orlando, who was dangling his feet over the edge.
“Hmm,” he asked, clearly distracted. I pointed in the direction of the creatures and he took a moment to examine the army of encroaching reptiles.
“Huh, that does appear to be what’s happening. When they land, they're about this size,” he said, indicating, with his fingers, a gap about the size of his palm.”Then when they jump they quickly expand to their larger form.”
“I wonder why?” I asked aloud as my brain worked its way through the problem. Likely some function of natural enhancement mana but I would have to dissect a specimen to be sure. Wanting to know what exactly we’d be fighting I used Identify on the arrayed forces, the frogs, the ash creatures, and the bull in turn:
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Name: Ribbet
Title: Jumping Jack
Race: Gribbiting Ropperta
Class: Poison Spitter: Lv.42
Sub-classes: Acidic Poisoner: Lv. 2
Age: 89
Skills: 7
Spells: 2
Attributes: (Jumping modifier)
Strength: 2/37
Agility: 4/61
Charisma: 24
Perception: 7
Willpower: 1
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 6
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Congratulations:
* Identify has reached Lv.7
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Name: Jacob Smith
Title: Baptised in Bal’s inferno
Race: Ba-Shh ▼:
* Ba-Shh were once mortals but have been eaten by the great bull and burned in the inferno that constantly rages within him, what remains is the ashen husk of their former race. Their skin is an ashy park that sloughs off easily, beneath is the still burning ember of the person they used to be. While they may be screaming internally they are incapable of making any noise and must follow Bal’s orders without protest.
Class: Ashriven: Lv.68
Sub-classes:
1. Embers of Despair: Lv. 5
2. Clawing Ash: Lv.2
Age: 23
Skills: 9
Spells: 4
Attributes:
Strength: 24
Agility: 36
Charisma: 0
Perception: 7
Willpower: 13
Intelligence: 26
Wisdom: 13
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Name: Bal
Title: False Idol
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Race: Bronze Bull
Class: Identify skill too low to determine
Sub-classes: Identify skill too low to determine
Age: 512
Skills: Identify skill too low to determine
Spells: Identify skill too low to determine
Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine
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When I used the skill on the last target, Bal The False Idol, he raised his horned head to the sky and let out a long and echoing cry that sounded like a thousand enraged elephants, then lowered his eyes to lock them with mine before scrapping his hooves on the ground, pulling up great clods of earth. By this point his minions, the Ba-Shh, had burned most of a straight path to the fort’s wall but it didn’t seem that Bal was willing to wait for them to finish.
“Looks like it’s time to fight,” Orlando said, rising to his feet, some reluctance in his voice.
“Hold on just a moment,” I replied, remaining seated.
“Are you sure? That giant is about to charge,” Orlando said, one hand on the sword at his back.
“Just watch,” I responded, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Orlando looked sceptical but complied, although his grip didn’t leave his weapon.
“Are you sure you’re sure?” the Paladin pressed, his thumb bouncing on the problem.
“I’m sure,” I affirmed, unsure. Just as I was about to jump off the building in fear that it might collapse under the raging bulls attack it happened. It ran through the one of its Ba-Shh, turning it into a cloud of ash, before placing a hoof straight into one of the hidden pits. The charge was brought to a dramatic halt, 100 feet from the wall. The massive beast flipping arse over teakettle, its four dinner plate hooves pointing towards the darkening clouds as it carved a furrow in the earth, its head bumping in and out of other holes my golems had prepared. It let out a startled moo, sending up a plume of smoke.
“There’s no time for that,” Orlando chided, seeing me slapping my knees in laughter, although I saw the smile he tried to hide. “We have monsters to fight!” he claimed and without further ado jumped from the top of the fort to the courtyard below, knocking down two Ba-Shh who had made their way in and were already trying to attack my Rubble Rousers, to little effect.
Unlike my oversized meathead of a friend I took a moment to survey the battlefield before choosing where to deploy.
The poison-spitting Gribbiting Roppertas were bouncing in a line a few hundred feet from the wall. They seemed to be content remaining ranged attackers for now, spitting their acidic balls at the centre of the ash storm that marked the Paladin’s position. Speaking of the Ba-Shh, they had managed to move in on our position with deceptive speed, their silence making them difficult to track. They had begun to swarm the fort, flowing in like water; they crashed against the walls in droves, flowing around until they crashed through the crack.
Orlando was blending the once mortal creatures into a fine mist, but I could already see that they were beginning to reform, coalescing about a small ember coloured marble. I was going to tell Orlando about their weakness but there was no need. As I watched he added the crushing of the cores to his choreography.
He seemed to be pacing himself and not going all out, that was good because there didn’t seem to be an end to the creatures, more emerged from the rear of the upside down Bal with each smoky breath.
Speaking of the beast, it still appeared trapped on its back and had ordered a number of the surrounding Ba-Shh to aid in trying to rock in back right-side-up; that didn’t appear to be happening very quickly.
I debated leaving the fort and dealing with the Gribbiting Roppertas up close but I dismissed the idea; in the north there was still nothing and it made me uneasy. What enemy there was in that woods had chosen to wait and remain undetected. I walked down to the top of the wall, with the development of my body I would have been able to use Wind Breath to float down but in the long fight ahead I needed all the mana capacity I had recharged over the last day. In the end, staying atop the battlement seemed to be the best choice: I could engage with the expanding green frogs at a distance, keep an eye on Orlando's fight, and stay wary of the north.
One of the Gribbiting Roppertas saw my descent down the half exposed spiral staircase and shot a globdule of purple poison at me, the size of my head. Hidden behind a crumbling wall, but a drop landed on my leg, burning a finger width hole through what remained of my hose. Cursing myself for not doing so sooner, I cast Bone Armour, it was only an intermediate spell but I still wouldn’t be able to channel enough mana through this worldly vessel to recreate the elaborate suit I had used in the fight against the dragon. It was, however, at the max level of a spell of its type, 20, so I was able to conjure some defences quite easily.
A pool of inky blackness surrounded my feet and from it rose medium armour made from plain white bone. Murky tentacles seemed to cling to the mail, created from the bones of fish’s heads; they lost their grip when the item fully solidified on this plane. I had a chest piece, made from goat's vertebrae and one bone plate each on all of my four limbs. Adding to the strangely fishy theme I was given gloves made from scales, the little finger of my left hand flapping in the wind, I had lost it to a rabid snowdrop fox not long ago. Inspiration struck me and, taking the little nub of bone Orlando let me keep I screwed it into place on my left hand, ignoring the black blood which spurted forth. Using Necrotic Healing, I sealed the hole, this way I couldn’t lose the piece and I could always have a secret weapon.
Hearing the fighting intensify, I rushed into position. Half a dozen human shaped ash figures were piling on to one of my boys, trying to drag him down, the silence of the attack meant Orlando hadn't noticed as the stone golem flailed about, trying to rip the creatures off it. I cast Glacius Solero; without the foci I had before, the spell still worked however. A condensed snow globe shot out from my right hand and struck the Rubble Rouser. I modified the spell on the fly and instead of encasing my guy in an icy prison it exploded into a chilling mist and shot out shards of permafrost in all directions. It was enough and the golem was able to turn the tide on its slowed opponents. Honestly his showing was impressive given the difference in level.
Name: Rubble Rouser 3
Title: N/A
Race: Earth Golem
Class: Golem: Lv.23
Age: 14 hours
Skills: 0
Spells: 0
Attributes:
Strength: 55
Agility: 8
Charisma: 0
Perception: 6
Willpower: 0
Intelligence: 0
Wisdom: 0
“Little warning next time,” Orlando shouted up at me, picking an ice sliver from the wall next to his neck. I had thought that perhaps his experience would have put him off fighting but there appeared to be joy in his voice.
“Sorry,” I called back.
I had spent too long not paying attention to the weird frog creatures that grew when jumping and something wet hit me in the back, nearly sending me from the battlements. My armour was slowly being dissolved and the flesh was beginning to burn beneath but it was nothing my Necrotic Healing couldn’t handle. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about the poison part of the attack as I was inhabiting a zombie.
“You alright?” the Paladin called up, his focus on the never ending tide of opponents.
“Yep,” I shouted back, cursing myself for my narrow focus.
There then proceeded a frantic battle of Orlando’s sword and my spells. I flung out magic whenever I thought it could turn the fight to our side, Orlando didn’t seem to be struggling but my creations often did. I maintained suppressing fire on the frogs all the while so that they wouldn’t be able to rain death freely upon us. I forced them to take cover behind trees when they weren't actively attacking, using workings of wind and flame. Orlando wasn’t slowing, stamina wasn’t really an issue, though I could tell if this went on too long mental fatigue may become a problem. I became a sprinkler of multicoloured magical death, stood upon my perch, and used the high ground to best advantage. The fighting grew ever more desperate as the number of Ba-Shh only increased and still, nothing from the north.
Congratulation:
* Wind Breath has reached Lv.6
* Flame has reached Lv.5
* Lesser Sleep as reached Lv.3
* Wind Blade has reached Lv.6
* Rock Throw has reached Lv.2
* Magma Lob has reached Lv.3
* Necrotic Healing has reached Lv.4
* Earth Golem has reached Lv. 7
* Gacius Solero has reached Lv.4
We lost one of my elite core of golems at one point and, for some reason, I received experience. I didn’t have any time to wonder why as the intensity of the fight only increased. I was left buzzing, flinching at every sound - ready to launch a Wind Blade - when a lull finally arrived.
A ball of poisonous liquid whizzed past me, sizzling a line along my rudimentary Bone Armour as it did. Those giant frogs had been harassing the fort for too long.
“Die!” I cackled, hitting one of the cart sized monsters at the peak of its jump with Necrotising Bolt. It withered to a husk, no bigger than a regular treefrog.
“Incoming!” Orlando cried from his position in the marshalling yard, by the crack in the exterior wall. I looked over from my posting atop the wall just in time to see the impact; wobbling, my feet gave way under the tremors.
The colossal bronze bull had made its move, busting the crumbling stone wide open and letting the ash creatures seep in. Orlando would be overwhelmed if he was left there with only the earth golems to aid him, but deserting the walls would give the jumping poison spitters free rain to pelt us from above. I clenched my teeth as I strained to think of a solution to the dilemma.
How had I gotten into this mess?
I didn’t have time to think, the Paladin was engaged horn to sword with the great bronze beast and could no longer mince its minions. In short order my Rubble Rousers were overrun, swept away in a sea of ash. My teeth began to crack under the strain and, seemingly as one, the Ashriven turned their eyeless faces upon me.
I had spent about half of my available mana up until this point and I would need every drop I had left.
Orlando was sent flying across the yard by a flick of the bull’s head, the Paladin maintained his footing as he slid clean through the wall without leaving so much as a scratch - he was still a poltergeist. The Brass monstrosity didn't seem to care for anything but its target as it let out an enraged basso moo and scraped at the stone through which he had disappeared. Seconds later, Orlando plunged down from above, having jumped the obstacle and sunk his blade three feet into the things back, revealing a torrent of flame.
The ash creatures didn’t seem to care for the two and stayed clear of their fight, on the flip side that meant they were now wholly focused on me. They rushed with silent speed up the wooden staircase to the battlements. Wanting to maintain the high ground I set light to the path with Flame. This did cease their advance, sending them back to the bottom where they seethed like starving piranhas but it also appeared to empower three of the monsters who had been caught in the blaze.
A metallic clang rang out from the two titan’s conflict.
With the buff I had inadvertently given them they began to glow with the amber of embers, now more powerful than the other Ba-Shh - who roiled at the base of the wall impatiently - they were able to jump directly onto the battlements; one behind and two in front. They all started running blindly toward me. I smiled as I ducked down. Maintaining my battlefield awareness I had detected the volley of incoming purple spit balls aimed at my position. One of the Ashriven was knocked clean off the wall and was swallowed whole by the pack beneath. The other two were doused slightly but still retained their radiance.
Sparks flew in the corner of my eye, from the direction of the Paladin and the False Idol; Orlando was sent, once more, flying.
I sliced one Ba-Shh apart with Wind Blade, cutting in two its marble like mana core. The other I spent a considerable amount of mana on freezing for later investigation with Glacius Solero.
“Agg,” I heard a manly voice cry. Looking down I saw Orlando grasping at something invisible attached to his shoulder. With my Life Sense I was able to see a squirming snake desperately holding on with its fangs. The horns caught the Paladin square in the chest and flung him into the pile of weapons that we had prepared, scattering them and my arm bones across the courtyard. The impact removed the slitterer’s invisibility and I was able to use Identify just before it died:
Name: Jane
Title: Sneaky Bastard
Race: Chamiseer
Class: Corporealiser: Lv.14
Age: 3
Skills: 1
Spells: 1
Attributes:
Strength: 3
Agility: 11
Charisma: 7
Perception: 22
Willpower: 13
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 21
Shit! I thought as I examined the two-headed, black serpent, with spiky crowns around each of its ends. My internal exclamation was proved warranted moments later when Bal plucked Orlando from the ground with his horn and sent him smashing into a wall. With the Corporealiser’s venom in his system he was no longer able to become incorporeal.
Orlando tried to roll to the side of a stomping claw (yes cows and bulls have claws), the hiss of pain he released was more visceral than any cry for help, and help was what he needed. I looked about for a solution, an idea came to me but was slightly evil - that had never stopped me before, why should it now?
Using Bone Articulation I took control of my arm bones which littered the battlefloor. The great bull smiled in delight as it pushed harder down on the trapped Paladin. I hadn’t seen its level but it would have to have quite some strength to keep that man down… or it was just really heavy.
My rearticulated hand, less its smallest bone, scurried through the rippling Ba-Shh who were thrashing against the wall on which I stood in frustration. I was able to snake my hand through and to Orlando’s side without anyone noticing. Tapping him on the shoulder he snapped his head about, looking for a new threat.
“What the hell!” he gasped, losing most of the breath in his shrinking lungs. I used Possession to puppet my own hand, and now I was utilising one arm bone to listen to the vibrations of his voice and another to create sound myself.
“You need help, I’m prepared to offer it,” I stated in lascivious tones, playing up the role. The voice I used was the one he would have heard me with in my boney form, un altered by my current body's voice box.
“Osseus?” he choked in surprise, “How?”
“That doesn’t matter, you need power and I’m willing to offer it, now just say you accepted and we can get this magical contract over with.”
He struggled to wheeze out a laugh as the bull twisted its hoof from left to right.
“You think I’d fall for that rubbish again?” he spat, “I will not be a pawn!”
“What’s more important to you, your fate… or that of another?” I asked, using my boney hand to point at my current vessel. I had him looking about as if in fear, atop the wall. Perfectly timed with my point he was struck in the back with a poison ball and sent flying into the tide of Ba-Shh, it was a calculated gamble and I hoped to escape with only minor damage.
Orlando’s eyes widened and his struggling doubled but to no avail, this only seemed to excite Bal, who’s grin could curdle lemonade.
“Fine, fine you foul creature, I agree.” Orlando shouted, more panicked and desperate than I would have expected, I started to feel bad. Still, my current body was being torn apart so I activated the contract.
Congratulations:
* You have gained your first follower: Orlando Roncevaux
* You have taken your first step on the path to godhood, higher level system access available - already attained - decreased cost for SuperUser
* You have gained your first Avatar-level follower: Orlando Roncevaux
* You have taken your second step on the path to godhood, decreased cost for SuperUser
* Ooo, things are heating up. The others won’t like this, but I think I might enjoy the show – D
As if in response to our deal, the storm that had been on the verge of breaking finally did so in spectacular fashion. With the Paladin being the perfect receptacle for foreign mana I didn’t have to hold back and I immediately imbued him with my strongest System spell, Storm Cloak. The heavens roared and down from the clouds came a spike of purple, shooting straight into Orlando. His eyes raged with purple light and his armour and hair changed colour in sympathy.
My new Paladin roared aloud and shoved up at the massive bronze bull which constrained him. He didn’t just dislodge the beast but sent a bolt of lightning up through the creature, the width of his whole body. There was a moment of silence as the world seemed to hold its breath, then the inevitable thunder arrived. In a cacophonous boom Bal, champion of Maniae, was cleaved clean in two. Revealing the fire which burned within, and the as yet uncremated victims.
Orlando wasted no time, tearing towards me, vaporising the Ba-Shh with his mere presence. He knelt over my curled up form, chunks of my flesh missing, and laid a hand gently on my bare shoulder.
“It’s okay, everything will be fine,” he soothed.
Taking advantage of the moment I channelled Necrotising Healing through the man so he could watch as skin regrew at his touch.
Sparking tears welled in his lightning eyes and dropped to the floor, sizzling in the newly forming puddles of rain.