Chapter 27
(Going… Down?)
The party, with Grolluk in the lead and Jarow bringing up the rear, traveled for hours in the complete and utter darkness of this huge underground cylinder, save for the moon-like globe that Isilandra continually cast to aid in their journey.
When the power of the moon-like globe waned, there was a thirty-second cooldown before she could cast it again. During these times, she would create a source of silvery light at the end of her staff so they wouldn’t be totally blind.
Jarow’s character sheet no longer listed his Darkvision or Thermovision abilities, but he couldn’t help but wonder if those powers were also carried over from his time as a Naga, like Identify and Dash, but since Isilandra continually kept a light source available, he hadn’t had the time to test that theory. Nor did he particularly want to, since this place was far from being free from danger, even after the prolonged battle they had lived through upon arrival.
It was during one of these brief pauses, when they relied on the light from Isilandra’s staff to cut through the darkness; its dim light only illuminating the area directly around them, that Suhry noticed something. A small and distant change.
"There is a faint light coming from below," she said, standing dangerously close to the edge of the trail.
Jarow winced, realizing how perilously close she stood to the edge. If she were to slip, or if the rock under her feet were to crumble, she would easily plummet to her death; unless she possessed some power to counteract that outcome, of which Jarow was unsure.
The rest of the party joined her, they all moved closer to the edge in order to peer out into the darkness, yet none ventured quite so close as the enigmatic woman did. The glow was faint and still very far away, but there was indeed some small amount of light coming from the bottom of this humongous cavern.
"About damn time," Grolluk said, as he spat over the edge. "I'm bored with the same old shit all the time. I need something new to smash."
The sentiment was actually shared by the rest of the party members as well, but only to a lesser degree. The path they walked along hadn't really been dangerous for some time. It seemed as though a majority of the monsters living in these depths had been wiped out in the initial onslaught upon their arrival, and now only small pockets of the same familiar enemies they had faced ever since then were all that remained on their trek downward.
With a distant end possibly in sight, the party pressed on, the glow from below gradually illuminating the cave with each grueling hour they trekked. The trail spiraled downward, and the party wound their way around the edge of the torus.
At times, they encountered sections where the trail narrowed so much that they had to cross over one at a time, the footing precarious and the threat of falling ever-present. In other areas, the rock jutted out from the cavern wall, creating expanses large enough for all five of them to walk abreast.
It was at one of these larger outcroppings that the party made camp for the first time. They pulled out rations and supplies from what Jarow had initially thought were simple small pouches hanging at their belts. He had assumed these were for coins or spell components, but as the party members reached into the bags and pulled out things like jerky and water flasks, items much larger than the pouches they were withdrawn from, his mind began to question what he was seeing.
"What are those?" he asked as he saw Isilandra pull what looked like a comfortable chair from the small satchel at her right hip.
Isilandra looked at Jarow, seeming to notice for the first time that he didn't have anything with him. He had no pouches at his waist, no backpack or satchel. He only had his sword and clothing, nothing more.
"This is my spatial bag," she said hesitantly, obviously observing that Jarow had nothing similar tied to his waist. "It's a magical item that allows me to store large objects in a small space. But you don't have one? You don't have anything?" The elven woman's tone ended in a higher pitch, betraying her concern.
Their conversation seemed to catch the other party members' attention, and they all looked at Jarow. Grolluk and Mediv smirked, a chuckle accompanying their glance. Suhry glared at him, her expression speaking of disgust at his unpreparedness.
“So you don’t have anything, like food or a tent even?” Isilandra asked.
“Well…” Jarow paused, not sure whether he was ready to divulge this information yet. He had been warned not to use his inventory in public, but this was hardly a place where prying eyes could watch what he was doing. Also, he assumed the pouches they all wore were a similar type of magic or ability to how his own inventory worked, so seeing him draw something from his inventory shouldn’t seem like too big of a deal to them.
“I don’t really need to eat or sleep; my body doesn’t require those things, but I do have some items with me though.” With a tense hand, Jarow pulled up his inventory screen and looked through what he had. There was a lot of treasure: gold, jewelry, weapons, and other valuables. However, he didn’t think showing that type of stuff would be wise, at least not right off the bat. Instead, he thought of using one of the Thu’kri blades and brought the item to his hand.
The darkness surrounding them seemed bright compared to the blackness which opened up in front of Jarow. A break in the fabric of reality formed, and Jarow reached his hand into the void, but rather than it being instantly lost and disintegrated, he pulled from the nothingness a strange organic blade.
All of the party members' mouths dropped open at the sight, even Suhry with her haughty demeanor was dumbfounded in seeing the rip in space-time from which Jarow was apparently able to remove objects.
“What…”
“How…”
“Holy Shit!”
The party members muttered over each other as they watched Jarow’s inventory seal back up and vanish. Jarow held the blade out in front of him. It was still as fresh as when it had been attached to its previous owner. The green bone-like material acted as a backbone and led down into a handle-like structure. The blade itself curved like a sickle and shone like silver. It took a moment for them to recover, but once they did, the questions began.
“What was that?” Isilandra asked first.
“What are those?” Mediv asked next.
“How did you do that?” Suhry questioned him, her tone inquisitive yet demanding. Jarow began his explanations.
"That is how I access my inventory," he said. "These are the blades from the Thu'kri. Me and Xinpo fought a bunch of these things before I was sent here, or rather to the Inn where we met."
Mediv held out a hand to ask if he could feel the blade. Jarow handed it over without hesitation. He had over a hundred of the blades still stacked in his inventory.
"This is sharp and strong like steel, yet obviously organic," Mediv said as he turned the Thu’kri blade over in his hands. "It's a fascinating weapon."
Suhry and Isilandra were much less interested in what Jarow had removed and much more interested in how and where he had removed it from.
Isilandra removed the pouch she had at her waist and peered inside. She had never thought about the magic that went into one of these things and wanted to see if that same void was present.
Suhry moved to the spot where Jarow had manifested his power and waved her arm through the air as if trying to feel the residual energy. "What is that place you called the item from?" she asked. Her dark eyes looked into Jarow menacingly.
"I... don't know," he stammered under her gaze. "It just kind of happens."
“Do it again!” she demanded.
Jarow didn’t dare tell her no, so he opened up his inventory again. Not wanting to display another blade, he spotted the elephant figurine he had taken from the treasure pile. Remembering it had a magical aura, he thought it might be of interest to the sorceress.
The break in the substance of the universe opened up once again. The void within seemed to suck in the light. Jarow calmly reached his hand into the darkness while Suhry circled the area and inspected the void.
Jarow pulled out a small figurine of an elephant.
Suhry did a double take as her eyes swept from the void to the figurine, then they grew large as her magical senses attuned to the presence of the figurine now in Jarow’s hand.
“What is that!” she gasped and closed her hands around Jarow's, which held the figurine.
“It’s something I found a while back. I actually hadn’t thought about it for quite a while.” Jarow said in explanation. He opened his hands so that Suhry could take the small figurine form him, but before she could, he used his Identify ability.
Figurine of the Indiray: This spell focus grants the wielder a [ +2 ] to their Perception attribute and grants the ability - Long Memory: Long Memory allows spells with a verbal component to be used at half the MP cost.
“WOW,” Jarow thought to himself as he read the description. He didn’t have any spells or abilities that needed a verbal component, so that part wouldn’t help him, but the boost to Perception would have been useful.
Being able to see what this item was and its abilities made Jarow wonder, though. If he had used Identify on this figurine before switching to this new class-based system, would the description have been different? He didn’t know about Perception attribute back then; would the description have mentioned Intelligence instead?
“This is amazing,” Suhry rattled off. She had taken the figurine and turned it over in her hands several times, examining it and identifying it for herself. “Do you have other items like this? How much do you want for it?”
These were the quickest and most sincere words Jarow had heard come from her since he had first met her. She seemed mesmerized by the small trinket.
“I do have more things, nothing similar to that, though,” Jarow told her. The others closed in when Jarow mentioned he had more stuff.
“Like what?” Grolluk asked. “Magic weapons and armor?”
“You don’t have a magical sword in there, do you?” Mediv asked with large, hopeful eyes. “I’m the only one with a regular, non-magical, weapon around here.”
That made Jarow wonder. He thought he had seen a glow coming from Mediv’s blade before. He had assumed it was the weapon itself, but now realized the glow might have been some kind of power the man used to imbue abilities upon his weapon.
“It appears your new companions are ready for some upgrades, suzerain. Your generosity would also provide you the opportunity to identify what you have in your inventory, and create a firmer bond with these individuals,” Xinpo chimed in.
“Uhh… Ok. Let’s see what I have,” Jarow said, opening his inventory screen again. He wasn’t sure this was the best time to be doing this, but they seemed relatively safe for the moment, and any upgrades he could provide would better their chances in succeeding as well.
Jarow produced several magical rings, pendants, and an earring. Most of the jewelry pieces were at least slightly magical, but there was only one that was really useful to any of the party members. It was a ring that Jarow handed to Isilandra.
Ring of the Dazzling Hierophant: This ring adds a [ +2 ] to Charisma and reduces the cost of healing spells by sixty percent.
“This is amazing, Jarow. I can’t just accept this. Let me pay you something, or trade?” Isilandra said as Jarow explained its properties and handed her the ring. He had already told Suhry she could have the elephant figurine. She had wrapped a small chain around it and now wore it like a pendant.
“You are going to use it to keep me alive; that’s all the payment I need,” he said with honesty. Jarow didn’t really have a need for this stuff, and this party had already kept him alive more than once, so giving them gifts was the least he could do.
After Identifying the Jewelry, Jarow moved on to weapons. He pulled out several swords which he identified and handed to Mediv.
“These are truly amazing weapons, but they don’t really compliment my style of fighting,” Mediv told Jarow as they cycled through several of the more extravagant swords he had within his inventory.
There was one last blade; it resembled more of a large dagger than a sword, and Jarow wondered if it would even be of use to the Rogue. As he pulled it from the dark tear into the void which was his inventory, he saw it emitted a glow that was easily seen even without his Extra Perception enabled. He quickly used Identify before handing the blade to Mediv, a large smile creeping over Jarow’s face.
Shapeshifting dagger of the Werecat: This dagger can shrink or enlarge depending on the user's needs. It provides [ +3 ] to Mobility and adds x2 Critical damage. **
The smile Jarow wore on his face was dwarfed by the smile on Mediv’s face as he was told of the dagger’s properties. Jarow hadn’t taken note of the stars at the end of the description in his haste, assuming they must describe the functioning of the size-changing ability.
Mediv swung the dagger, and it elongated to the size of the sword on his hip. It didn’t have the same curve in the blade, but Jarow didn’t think that would be an issue.
“This is amazing. Are you certain I cannot pay you for this incredible blade?” Mediv said without taking his eyes from the silvery weapon.
“Just have my back, man,” Jarow replied.
The human smiled, then took on a vacant stare before letting out an “Ouch!” A drop of blood fell from the rear of Mediv’s opposing hand and onto the blade.
“Oh, Shit,” Mediv said before doubling over in pain. Screams of agony began to usher from the man. Isilandra’s hands turned silver, and the liquid-light stretched from her outstretched digits to be quickly absorbed by Mediv’s body.
“What did you do?” Grolluk asked Jarow forcefully. The friendship he had with the Orc, gained through the battles they had fought together, was at the moment being tested.
Jarow's eyes went wide. "I didn't do anything," he raised his hands in front of his chest in the universal sign for "It wasn't me."
Jarow wasn’t sure what was going on or what could be causing the man so much pain. Then he remembered the stars following the description of the blade. Jarow had dismissed the window, but still had the message available to him in his log, so he pulled up the information again.
With a mental touch, the window showing the description popped into Jarow’s view again, but this time he focused on the stars following the description, and the window changed to provide the additional information he had ignored before.
*Shapeshifting Dagger of the Werecat is a cursed item. Once a new wielder is found, the curse takes effect. Shapeshifting Dagger of the Werecat causes the wielder to permanently change species to: ‘Werecat’. The initial breed of feline will vary depending on the individual wielding Shapeshifting Dagger of the Werecat and can vary from domesticated breeds to large wild hunting cats.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
**Once the transformation is complete, the wielder of ‘Shapeshifting Dagger of the Werecat’ can no longer be more than ten yards away from ‘Shapeshifting Dagger of the Werecat’ without suffering debilitative side effects and tremendous pain. Transfer of ‘Shapeshifting Dagger of the Werecat’ is only done after the deaths of the wielder.
Mediv’s screams began to change, growing more high-pitched until they turned into inhuman growls. The party members watched in horror as dark gray fur began to sprout from and rapidly grow out of Mediv's skin. It quickly protruded from his clothes, covering his entire body. The fur then changed colors in patches, causing black streaks to manifest along the fur, tiger-like stripes covering his now furry body. Along with the added hair, Mediv’s muscles bulged and spasmed, and his bones cracked as his body contorted into a more feline shape.
Mediv's face elongated, the cheeks and jaw bones cracking and extending, while his nose shrunk closer into his face and turned black. His ears elongated and moved upward, closer to the top of his head, where they morphed and became larger and pointed. His eyes changed color, becoming a bright yellow with small ovoid vertically positioned pupils. The tips of the pupils were pointed at the top and bottom and only slightly convexed in the center.
Long black whiskers popped out and stuck from his now fur-covered cheeks, and his mouth opened to reveal sharp teeth underneath new thin lips. The tips of his fingers became more pointed, and long sharp claws were visible as his fingers curled against the ground while he writhed in pain.
Finally, as the transformation seemed close to ending, a small ripping sound could be heard coming from Mediv’s rear end. Jarow’s first impression was that the pain had caused the man to expel gas, but instead of a foul smell shooting forth, a long black tail ripped free, tearing a hole in the pants Mediv wore.
Everyone in the party was enthralled by the rapid transformation occurring before them. Isilandra’s healing spell never stopped, continually trickling magical light into Mediv, but the elf’s eyes bulged in confusion and curiosity, just as the other three party member’s eyes did.
“What the shit?” Grolluk asked when the howling finally stopped, and the party could now see the transformation was finally over. They all looked on in open-jawed shock, Isilandra’s healing light still channeling into Mediv.
Jarow knew the cause, the curse he had overlooked, and was about to tell the others of his folly when a voice came from the now-prone man lying on the stone trail.
“It seems someone forgot to mention the curse on this blade,” Mediv said, looking at Jarow. His voice was now wispy and low, with an undertone of a growl accompanying the sentence.
“I… I am so sorry. I saw the additional information and assumed it was how to use the sword. I never would have thought it was a curse,” Jarow stammered, backing away slowly.
Mediv shakily stood and looked at Jarow, his newly formed cat-like eyes sinking deep into Jarow’s soul. Then he removed his stare and looked down at his newly transformed body. In his hand, he still held the blade, but with his free hand, he felt along the new fur which covered his lithe body.
The party stood in silence as Mediv came to terms with his new existence. Jarow could feel the others' thoughts training on him while their gazes remained locked on Mediv. He had messed up, big time. He was more than willing to pay for whatever damage he had done, whether that meant Mediv took his pound of flesh in revenge or if he would rather take all of Jarow’s treasure. He didn’t need it anyway and considered piling it on the floor in front of him as if in offering.
After a long tense moment, Mediv's large yellow eyes narrowed, and he stepped menacingly towards Jarow. The rest of the party finally turned their heads towards Jarow, and they all stared at him as if he'd done this on purpose. They seemed ready to back up their friend if he wanted to exact some revenge, and Jarow couldn’t blame them if they did.
Mediv came close, the blade coming inches away from Jarow’s manhood. The now cat-like-man hissed at Jarow, his back arched and the fur on his arms visibly rose. The large yellow eyes gained the look of a hunter stalking prey, and large white fangs protruded from under the small black feline lips.
The party members encircled him, but Jarow didn’t move. He would take this without regret. He had been wrong, caused this man pain which he could only imagine. He didn’t back away; he simply closed his eyes and accepted his fate.
"I am truly sorry, Mediv. I should have looked first, but that’s no excuse," he whispered. In what he thought might be his last moments with this group, Jarow's brain went to a strange place. Here was someone who finally knew what it was like to have a new and different body, someone he could relate to. He wished he could talk to Mediv, to explain his own circumstances and learn from Mediv’s experience.
The seconds stretched out, but nothing happened. Jarow wasn’t sure what was happening; his thoughts were of them all preparing for a brutal assault on him. Tentatively, Jarow peeked out with one slitted eye to see a pair of large yellow eyes staring back at him, inches away.
"I'm just messing with ya," Mediv winked and chuckled, then slapped Jarow on the shoulder.
Jarow didn’t know what just happened, but opened his eyes wider to meet the now cat-like eyes of Mediv, humor held there instead of the rage he had assumed he would see.
"I got a prompt telling me that if I wanted to make this sword a soulbound weapon, there would be a cost. It didn't get specific, but I accepted. I mean, the name alone kind of implies something like this was gonna happen, although I thought the change would be like once a month or something, not turning into a cat right off the bat. It wasn't until after I changed that I got all the details," Mediv explained to everyone. His voice now had a more feline sound to it, the words seemed softer, and the esses were highlighted, but Jarow could still hear Mediv’s accent coming through.
Jarow’s shoulders began to relax as Mediv, now a bona fide cat-man, offered his hand with a chuckle. The other party members were still working through their own confused emotions and stood around the pair with faces of curiosity and confusion. They had all been ready to fight and possibly even kill the man who had cursed their teammate, but now they found out the entire scenario was a joke? Yet their friend was still transformed into the form of a cat, which apparently he was okay with?
"You're not actually mad?" Jarow asked, still not quite believing what was happening.
"Of course not," Mediv said. "I thought it was pretty funny myself. And now I'm a badass-looking tiger-guy, which I must say is pretty awesome." Mediv winked at Jarow, then stretched his fingers in front of his face, producing his claws which extended from the tips of his fingers. “I mean yeah, that really hurt, but I feel so much stronger and more agile now. I can’t wait to try this new body out in a real fight, and maybe in the sack.”
The newly minted tiger-hybrid looked down past his stomach and rubbed himself experimentally, a small grin turning up one side of his mouth.
The rest of the party members finally started to relax and chuckled awkwardly along with Mediv as he seemed happy with this change of circumstance. They obviously hadn't been informed about Mediv’s joke at Jarow’s expense either and had been ready to back up their long-time friend's anger.
The next few minutes were somewhat tense for all of them except Mediv, who wandered off a short distance away from the rest of the group to check out his new body with some privacy. Jarow had some strange feelings well up in him when he looked at Mediv now. He had liked the human before; he seemed to be one of the most personable of the team, welcoming Jarow without reservations. Now something more primal flared as he stared after the cat-man.
He felt the overwhelming desire to dislike Mediv now. Something deep within him distrusted the man now and wanted nothing more than to chase him away. Jarow closed his eyes and examined these feelings and what they were. As he did so, his body shifted position, and Jarow could feel his legs compensate for the movement, which reminded him of the body he now occupied.
Each of his past bodies had brought with them some remnant of who they were. The orc had the lust for battle and desire to continue to build her body, the dwarf had the stone-sense,the elf with its heightened senses, etc. Thus far, other than a more keen sense of smell and hearing, Jarow hadn’t felt any emotional difference, nothing compelling him forward or adding to his understanding of his surroundings, but now Jarow felt he had found what this body held leftover. It was a canine-type body, so naturally, it would have an aversion to felines.
Upon accepting and understanding what these strange emotions were and where they came from, Jarow laughed out loud, causing the rest of the party members to look at him curiously.
“Is there something amusing, suzerain?” Xinpo asked.
“I’ll tell you later; you’ll probably laugh at me too,” Jarow mentally replied.
“Uhh… Sorry. Just realized how close I came to getting stomped by you all and thought it was kind of funny,” Jarow said to the rest of the group. With an awkward smile, he opened up his inventory again and brought out more objects to identify, which caught everyone’s attention.
After a few more minutes of withdrawing items, identifying them, then returning them to his inventory, Jarow had gone through and identified most of the rest of his treasure with nothing really unique or beneficial to anyone. The others still seemed interested, but there was nothing exceptional or very useful from the items he had shown them, although they all agreed he would be able to make quite a profit from selling his treasure. Jarow still hoped he could find something for Grolluk, but the remaining items were running low.
He had looked through all the weapons and armor, but there was nothing that would be better than what the Orc already owned, and even less that would fit around his “imposing roundness.” There were a couple of wands, which he knew the Orc wouldn’t be able to use. He double-checked them all once over though and found most were uncharged and therefore unusable until he could get them charged once more.
Finally, Jarow came to the last unidentified item in his inventory. It was something he had looked at before, but highly doubted the Orc would have any interest in, so had skipped over it until he had run out of everything else. Jarow removed the final item, a pair of uniquely sewn boots having stripes of differing multiple colors on each boot. To his Extra Perception, the aura given off was a large golden glow. He remembered the strange dichotomy between the colorful leather and the strong radiance they gave off.
This time he used Identify on the boots and was extremely surprised at the result.
Jozef’s Boots of Multicolors: These variegated boots provide the wearer with a [ +1 ] bonus to the Power attribute. Additionally, they grant the wearer the Prismatic Emesis spell, which can be used twice daily.
Prismatic Emesis: The wearer regurgitates a colorful liquid in a small conical area in front of them. The cone covers a distance of fifteen feet in length and six feet wide at the conical end. (Results are random and can contain up to three different colors at once)
Red: Targets struck with this color liquid enter an uncontrollable berserk state but suffer from weakness [ -10 ] to all attributes.
Orange: Targets struck with this color liquid receive the debuff: 'Flaming Hot', causing internal combustion with an irresistible cheesy flavor.
Yellow: Targets struck with this color liquid have an uncontrollable need to urinate. Ignoring the urge results in the debuff: 'UTI', causing the bladder to quickly disintegrate and paramecia to enter the body to devour the remaining organs.
Green: Targets struck with this color liquid begin to vomit their brains out; literally, their brain dislodges, enters their stomachs, and is ejected outward at high velocity through their mouths along with whatever else is in their stomachs at the time.
Blue: Targets struck with this color liquid experience the debuff: 'Severe Depression' and have the uncontrollable compulsion to either sleep or perform acts of self-harm while experiencing [ -5 ] to all mental attributes.
Purple: Targets struck with this color liquid begin spasming as all of their muscles are severely pulsed by electricity. They are also inflicted with hallucinations of becoming a large velvet dinosaur singing about loving people.
Jarow read through the description and couldn’t help but feel both disgusted and amused by some of the amazing yet strange effects. An unusually catchy song entered his mind as he read through the description of the color purple; a nasally voice sang, "I love you, you love me."
He examined the boots he had just identified, then glanced down at his own feet. He was not wearing shoes, he found the pads on the bottom of his feet more than adequate. Instead, he turned his attention to Grolluk's feet, which were huge and clad in a pair of solid, if not ordinary-looking, boots.
When Jarow looked up to see if Grolluk was still paying attention, he found the Orc enraptured by the colorful boots he held in his hands. "You like these, I take it?" Jarow asked hesitantly.
Grolluk swallowed hard and hoarsely muttered, "Yeah... they're amazing."
A large smile spread across Jarow's face as he held the boots out to the Orc. "Then they're yours."
The Orc tore his gaze from the proffered boots and made eye contact with Jarow, checking to make sure that Jarow was sincere and that he could actually have the boots. Then he smiled widely, his tusks sticking out and around his chubby green cheeks, and grabbed Jarow in a tight, smelly hug.
Even though Jarow had cast Complete Cleanse numerous times while down here, it seemed the Orc had a natural aroma that Jarow found rather repellent. He wasn’t sure if it was his pheromones, body odor, or just his unclean nature, but the Orc’s scent was extremely off-putting to Jarow’s now much more sensitive nose.
Jarow endured the hug from the grateful Orc without complaint though, glad he could find something the big man wanted so much, and also glad for the apparently renewed camaraderie after the awkwardness caused by Mediv’s change.
Though he had a difficult time breathing while enclosed in the large Orc's arms, the hug was relatively quick, and as Grolluk withdrew, he took the boots with him. Jarow had to read the description to him since he apparently didn’t have the Identify ability. As Jarow described the effects of each different color, it seemed the Orc's smile grew larger.
"Thank you," Grolluk said. "These are the best things I've ever gotten."
"You're welcome," Jarow replied. "I'm glad you like them."
Grolluk put the boots on and immediately started to do a jig. Luckily, the Orc didn’t try out the boots' abilities on the party members by accident. Jarow laughed and watched him, happy to see that his gift had made the Orc so happy.
With the treasure identified and gifts given, the party set up a watch and took some time to rest. Jarow offered to take the full watch, but was told he had done too much already by the others and was given the first watch instead.
This newly budding friendship was a strange feeling for Jarow. These people had been good to him right from the start. Other than Suhry, who always seemed to be angry, they had all but adopted him into their party with relatively few issues. The sense of belonging to a group was incredible, like it was something he had craved his entire life, or lives in his case.
“I am glad you have found this party and made friends, suzerain. They seem to be very skilled and welcoming at the same time,” Xinpo said, as if reading Jarow’s emotions.
“Yeah, I’m glad too. You know you are a part of the party as well, right Xinpo?” Jarow asked in return.
It took a moment for Xinpo to reply, and Jarow felt the all-too-familiar itch in the back of his neck while Xinpo thought.
“Yes, suzerain, I believe you are correct. I may not be an active member, but I do feel included within the party structure,” Xinpo responded.
Jarow could understand that. The rest of the party couldn’t actively speak to Xinpo unless he was already engaging with them, but he was always listening to them and knew them as individuals.
“Are you okay with that position? You could communicate more often if you like,” Jarow told his companion.
“For now, this is optimal, suzerain. If our lives continue with these people, then I will work to be a more active member. For now, I am more comfortable speaking mostly with you and interacting with them when necessary,” Xinpo explained.
“Whatever you feel works best for you,” Jarow said to acknowledge Xinpo’s wishes.
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The night passed uneventfully. In this cavern of eternal darkness, there was no such thing as "night" or "day." The party slept when they felt tired, so to them it was simply a time to rest. Outside of this cave, the time of day was anybody's guess. They didn't even know what planet they were on, or if there was a sun to create a day and night rotation.
Once they all had woken the party took time for a meager breakfast. They offered Jarow food, but he declined, telling them he didn’t need to eat. Isilandra had become curious about this and had studied Jarow for a while, asking him questions about his anatomy and circumstances.
She had performed several scans of Jarow’s body, at least he called them scans since he didn’t have any better terminology for what the healer performed. She held her staff aloft and it emanated a penetrating silver light which focused on him. While the light seemingly shone through Jarow, Isilandra’s eyes took on a vacant look as if studying her character sheet within her UI.
She muttered things like, “Fascinating,” and, “How unusual,” but in the end, she couldn't figure out why Jarow didn’t need sustenance or what exactly his body was made up of.
“You have all the same organs, bones, muscles, etc., but rather than functioning, it is like they are there just for show. Your blood flows, but that is the only system in your body that I can see which is functional. It’s as if your body is self-sustaining, and only a model of what a humanoid body should resemble,” she explained after completing her analysis.
Another thing that Jarow no longer needed to do was relieve himself, which he gained a much greater appreciation for due to several reasons. Firstly, his nose could smell much more than he had ever imagined was possible, and he quickly found that waste was not something particularly enjoyable to him. There was also the fact that there were no bathrooms or anything else here, nor in any of the places he had been, he realized this as he curiously observed the bathroom habits of the others.
The women always went off together and were polite about their bathroom practices. While Jarow didn’t know exactly what transpired, they always returned smelling the same, without the lingering odors of urine or feces.
Mediv frequently peed off the edge of the trail, as did Grolluk, but took his leave when removing solid waste. His odors upon returning were minimal and faded after a time. Jarow assumed he had some way of cleaning himself, but was unsure if it had something to do with his new feline body or if it were due to a cleansing routine. In any case, he was glad for the man’s lack of aroma.
Grolluk, on the other hand, was much less couth about his bathroom habits. When he needed to go, as he did before they left their campsite that morning, he simply backed up to the edge of the trail in full view of everyone and dropped his trousers.
The resulting assault on their auditory and olfactory senses left the rest of the party members retching and covering their mouths. The insults and entreaties they hurled at the large Orc didn't seem to faze him, though; he simply smiled wider with each sign of distress they made. Once he was finished, he redressed without cleansing himself, simply returning to their vicinity with a look of relief and humor on his face.
Jarow quickly cast Complete Cleanse as soon as the Orc rejoined them, personally unable to deal with the large man’s odor. Once the light had passed over and through them, taking with it all forms of uncleanliness, the rest of the party bid him a heartfelt thanks, except for Grolluk, who frowned in disappointment.
Once the potty break was over and they were all rested and fed, the party resumed their descent. Onward they moved down the cavern’s spiraling trail. The path wound down as they traveled for the next two days. The light, which had been faintly noticeable when they were still higher up, grew increasingly luminous. In fact, the light finally became so intense that, during the last few hours of their journey, Isilandra was able to dispense with the moon-like glowing orb they had been using as their light source the entire time. The cavern around them glowed with a deep orange hue emanating from below.
They had all peered down at the light source at one point or another, but none had been able to determine its actual cause. It seemed to emerge from the ground itself, though it was unclear if 'ground' was indeed what lay below.
As the party descended, the journey grew more exciting once again. The creatures they were beginning to encounter were different from those they had seen before, and they appeared in larger numbers. This made sense, as these creatures were likely accustomed to living in this orange light, and therefore would not be as drawn to the light that the party used to illuminate their way.
The ever-present fire-bugs floating in the center of the cavern were still present, but had smaller abdomens than their cousins above, and the swirling orange gasses within them appeared less intense. However, their fireball attacks remained just as explosive.
The scorpion-like creatures had grown larger stingers, but their claws had become smaller. The venom dripping onto their backs as they rushed at the group had turned a more neon shade of green. Jarow had identified the ones they had fought earlier as Xietzil. The name remained the same for these newer versions, but the description had changed.
Xietzil: These large creatures are covered with a chitinous exoskeleton and have an acidic poison which they can either spray or inject upon successful attack.
The description for the previous version had mentioned large pincers and hadn’t noted the ability to spray poison. So Jarow assumed these were in the same family of creature, but of a different subspecies.
The slime creatures had changed as well. No longer did the white, spiky worms move alongside or on top of the translucent creatures, but had incorporated themselves inside as well. Now the blobs jiggled down the trails, the elongated, thorn-covered worms waving out from all angles. These new slimes were called Spiked Jellies, which Jarow found to be a very appropriate if somewhat non-creative name.
"They've evolved," Jarow said to no one in particular. "They're stronger and more dangerous now."
The other party members nodded in agreement. They could see that the creatures were different from the ones they had fought before, and Jarow’s comment was completely unnecessary, but no one seemed to mind that much either.
Suhry was able to deal with these creatures relatively easily by using ranged attacks, but once they got too close, the spiky, flailing tentacles became somewhat dangerous. Even Mediv had a hard time dodging all of the wriggling appendages.
There were also a type of fur-covered creature down in these lower depths. These were called Cavern Dwellers. They were covered in thick fur that was mottled with browns, grays, and blacks. Their eyes were large and yellow, and their teeth were sharp and pointed. They were bipedal, with long arms that helped them climb and swing through the caves. Mediv called them “Slothy’s,” and Jarow instantly understood the comparison.
These creatures also held some intelligence. They often surrounded the party and attempted to flank them from multiple sides. Jarow couldn't discern an actual language in use by the creatures, but the grunts and clicks they made must have been some kind of communication that they used to create tactics.
While fighting a particularly large group of Cavern Dwellers, the party all at once began to notice an oppressive density filling the air. The Cavern Dwellers apparently felt it too, as they quickly broke off their attack and ran off grunting and clicking furiously as they did. As they fled, the glow from below seemed to intensify, casting eerie shadows across the cave walls and adding an ominous radiance to the area.
With the enemies gone, the party looked at each other, their faces drawn with concern. A sense of impending doom filled the air, thickening it with a palpable tension that made breathing difficult.
"Do any of you know..." Jarow began, but was cut off as the entire cavern seemed to shake. The light coming from below flared; the flash stung their eyes and they all had to grab onto the floor or walls to keep from being bucked off the edge of the trail they stood on. The ground trembled beneath their feet, the waves sending reverberations up through their bodies.
The quaking wasn’t particularly strong, but it was relentless and lasted for several minutes. Minutes they all spent holding on and flailing around while they fought to keep from falling over the edge of the trail. This was far beyond a mere ground quake; it felt as if something huge was shaking the entire cavern like an enormous drink tumbler, threatening to toss them all into the glowing abyss below.
Then a new sound began accompanying the shaking. It was a low rumble at first, but quickly grew to a cacophony of breaking stone. The orange light from below wavered and became brighter as it quickly moved up from the depths, casting long, eerie shadows that danced wildly across the walls.
The stones flew up, large boulders and rocks hurling themselves hundreds of feet above them, crashing onto the walls above and breaking off stone or shattering into pieces before raining debris over everything.
"To me!" Suhry screamed, and they all moved as best they could to her position as a blue bubble appeared around them. Rocks smashed into the magical shield and bounced away, each blow visibly affecting Suhry as she winced as if struck by the stone herself. The rubble began to form a large wall-like structure around their protected area as the rock showers continued to pour over them.
Then the shaking abruptly stopped. It still took several minutes for the debris from above to cease falling, but eventually Suhry was able to lower her shield, and the party stood in the circle left behind from the magical shield. Rock and detritus surrounded them, shifting as the light of the magical shield faded.
“What the hell was that?” Mediv asked.
“I don’t know, but it just made our travels much more difficult,” Suhry responded, her brow covered in sweat while Isilandra tended to her with silvery fingers.
“At least it’s over,” Jarow said without thinking.
All eyes turned to him, their resentful glare penetrating deep. “What?” he asked, already knowing their answer, understanding he had just doomed them all.
As if in response, a new sound reverberated from below as a humongous glowing orange tentacle shot into the air and crashed down only yards from their position.
“You never say it’s over. You’ve just jinxed us,” Mediv told Jarow in a resentful tone.