As Tarn entered the room, his ears told him the story even before his eyes did. His bootfalls echoed across a large empty chamber, its shadowed center barely illuminated by a few scattered torches on the walls. Peering into the darkness, he saw exactly what those fist sounds suggested the room contained.
Nothing.
“Empty?” Aryo asked, the kid’s confused voice bouncing around the chamber. “That can’t be right.”
Staying close to the doorway, Tarn held his hand out, stopping Aryo’s advance. Isca had also entered, but she too stayed close to the entrance. Urthin had entered first, and stood beneath one of the nearby burning torches, his face half in shadow.
“It’s not empty,” Tarn said. “We just don’t know what’s here yet. Isca, can you take a look?”
With a nod, the Kithikin pulled her goggles down and looked deep into the chamber. For a moment, all Tarn could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the crackle of the torches as they burned away in the wall sconces.
“There is more.” Her voice was quiet and focused. “I can see small stone openings of some type in the ceiling, hundreds of little holes. And there is an indented stone in the center of the room.”
“Okay, good eye.” Tarn gave Isca a nod. “If we step on the little switch, I’m sure something awful happens. Yet there’s no door on the far side, which means the Axe needs us to do something before we can proceed.”
He looked around the area, finding a small piece of shattered brick on the ground. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the lower light, he could now make out the square raised stone in the middle of the chamber. Taking a moment to aim, he tossed the rock. It landed cleanly, and did nothing.
Not surprising.
“Maybe it doesn’t weigh enough?” Aryo asked.
“Good point.” Tarn grinned. “We need something heavier to trigger it. How much do you weigh?”
The kid looked back at him in terror for a moment, before smiling. Tarn was about to ask for suggestions when there was a hint of movement out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly Urthin was moving toward the center of the room.
“Smiley!” Tarn shouted, already in motion himself as he chased after the surprising Monk. “What the hell?”
Tarn raced to the center of the room, arriving just an eyeblink after Urthin had already stepped upon the slightly raised stone. It sank to the floor with a soft click, and for a moment he and the Monk simply stood there in silence, Tarn’s staring at Urthin in shock.
The Monk’s face should have been stoic and emotional, and to anyone else it would appear so. But Tarn saw the faint twitching above Urthin’s eyes, the pulse running through the veins on his face.
He was angry.
Tarn felt drops of ice-cold water landing on his cheeks. Looking up, he could see a fine mist was now spraying down upon them from the many nozzles in the ceiling. The intensity picked up, until the entire center of the chamber became engulfed in what felt like a light but increasing rain.
For a second, in the dim light, Tarn saw a large mound about twenty feet away, half-obscured through the downpour. It then vanished from view, replaced with what looked like four birds, about the size of hawks. Yet they had bat-like wings, and long pointed beaks.
With Isca and Aryo still standing back at the entrance, they became frozen in still-time.
//INITIATIVE BEGINS – STURGES
//ENEMY STATUS
Sturge A / AP 10 / Status effects: Low Flier (I), Swift
Sturge B / AP 10 / Status effects: Low Flier (I), Swift
Sturge C / AP 10 / Status effects: Low Flier (I), Swift
Sturge D / AP 10 / Status effects: Low Flier (I), Swift
Tarn felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as one of the birds swooped in through the rain, ramming its sharp beak into him. It seemed to pull from him for a moment, then flittered slowly away with a swollen, red-glowing belly. The damage was minor, only 10 AP, but the notification that crossed his interface was shocking.
//ALERT: “BOWSHOT” ability taken.
Tarn quickly moved through the screens in his mind until he had an entry on this new enemy:
//SPAWNED STURGES
AP: 10
Status effects:
Low Flier (I): May only fly within 6 feet of the ground.
Swift: Always gets first round of initiative
Next to him, Urthin grunted as a pair of the creatures swarmed around him. One latched on to his back, while the other landed upon his thigh.
//DRAINING BITE (Melee / Sturge)
The Sturge attacks a target within melee range, doing 10 AP of damage. The target loses one random ability, which is stored by the Sturge. Only one ability may be stored, though additional bites will still deliver damage. The stolen ability is restored if the Sturge is killed.
Never assume that you cannot lose what you feel is intrinsically yours.
“I can no longer enter the shroud-“Urthin muttered, brow furrowed.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Can you no longer think?” Tarn’s mind was still catching up with the battle, trying to process his friend’s uncharacteristic behavior. “What’s the deal running out here like this?”
“The needed action was obvious.” There was a hint of frustration to Urthin’s tone. “Thus, I took it.”
Well, that’s a wall if I ever saw one.
The interface timer in Tarn’s mind was about to run out, pulling his thoughts back to the battle. He was sure they needed to kill the correct Sturges to get their abilities back, the trick would be doing it without ranged weapons. He looked over his shoulder, glad to see one of the birds flittering away from Aryo. That meant Isca and her wrist darts were still in the clear.
//INTERFACE SHIFT
Tarn looked around, glad to see that with their ‘stomach’s full of stolen abilities, the sturges seemed to be having difficulty gaining altitude in the driving rain. Using a
The Monk had initially seemed fine after their encounter with Yarex and the reveal by Vestai that Urthin’s future was not to be what he had dreamed of. But Tarn knew from experience that these types of painful moments took time to process, and sometimes they did so suddenly.
“Look Smiley, I’m just checking on you. I mean – Yarex dropped a quite a shock on you!”
“I am fine.” Emotionless, as usual. But was it an act?
Between them an emerald dart shot through the rain, slamming into a Sturge that was out of reach for them both. The flittering bird exploded in a shower of blood and arcane particles, and Tarn’s interface confirmed his suspicions.
//ABILITY RETURNED: BOWSHOT
Nice one, grease monkey.
As his second pulse started, Tarn conjured up his sword and slashed at a nearby Sturge. He was rewarded with a burst of innards as the creature died, along with another returned ability to one of his team.
“Fair enough, I just want you to know…” He watched at the Monk struck out with a fist at one of the birds, showing just a little too much passion in his clenched jaw to soothe Tarn’s concerns. “I’m not here to push, but I’m willing to listen.”
Urthin had listened to him many times. As a nearly implacable sounding board, his friend had helped him work through questions about his parents, his sister, and this strange new life they found themselves in.
But talking came easy to Tarn, just as listening came easy to Urthin.
“It is history.” The rain ran down the Monk’s almost emotionless face. “There is nothing to discuss.”
As Aryo sped by in pursuit of the last remaining Sturge, the pulse ended, and Tarn’s muscles froze once again.
//INITATIVE SHIFT
“I still cannot enter the shroud,” Urthin stated flatly as he looked up at the one remaining Sturge, which flittered through the rain just out of Aryo’s reach.
Then Tarn saw another, and a third. In total, four of the bat-like birds flapped their wings through the downpour, their bellies thin as they joined the one carrying Urthin’s shroud.
Tarn was certain they had killed three of them last round, but now there were even more. One dove down at him, lancing into his shoulder and removing [Bowshot] once again, flying off engorged with his ability. The remaining three used their full movement to reach Isca, possibly recognizing her as their greatest threat. As she took two strikes, Tarn had to hope she kept some sort of ranged option left.
Spawned Sturges? Something was creating them, but what. Tarn looked through the rain, barely illuminated by the flickering fire of the sheltered torches on the far walls. But there was enough light for him to be certain there was nothing in the room except them and the Sturges.
Nothing they could see anyway.
But he had seen something, just as combat was beginning, if only for an instant. A strange looking mound of dirt at the far end of the room. There was nothing there now, but Tarn had a hunch there was one of them who could – if they could get his ability back.
//INITIIATVE SHIFT
“Isca!” Tarn shouted at the most distant of the Sturges as it wobbled its bloated form through the air. “Urthin don’t move yet – these birds are being spawned by something, and it’s in the Shroud!”
“I can’t hit it!” Isca shouted back in frustration. Around her, a pair of engorged sturges circled as they waited for their next attack. “All my dart abilities are gone!”
Damn it! Tarn too had lost his ranged attack, and one movement wouldn’t be enough to get either him or Urthin into melee range.
“Not to worry!” Aryo shouted joyfully as he sped by. Lightning trailing behind him, his increased movement allowed him to get close to the fluttering bird and then leap into the air.
//EAGLE PUNCH (Ranged / Zephyr)
The Zephyr may target an enemy within 30 feet of his current location, even if the target is airborne. Racing to that location, he delivers 30 AP of damage. The Zephyr will take 10 AP of damage from using this attack, and will lose [momentum].
Requires: Momentum, line of sight to target
I will fly like a falcon, let my spirit carry me.
The sturge combusted as Aryo’s electrified fist made contact with its swollen form, showering both the Zepher and the ground below them in a shower of sparks and magical particulate. Tarn looked over at Urthin expectantly, and was rewarded with a small, subtle grin.
The Monk vanished through a tear in reality, disappearing into the rain. As their second pulse began, Tarn swung out at one of the nearby birds with
Tarn looked expectantly into the far end of the room, where Urthin suddenly reappeared. Both of his ebon daggers were jammed into what looked like a large, breathing tree trunk. Tarn’s stomach lurched at the sighed of the fleshy tube that ran from the front of the creature, a half-spawned sturge spilling out of it and onto the stone.
The spawner then fell to the floor itself, slowly congealing into a thick pool of red and brown liquid, before disappearing altogether.
//ALL ABILITIES RESTORED
Tarn headed towards Urthin, taking a moment to stop where Aryo still lay on the ground after his leap and fall. He held his hand out, grasping Aryo’s and pulling the kid up with a grin.
“Nice work,” Tarn said, happy to see the confidence growing in the young Zephyr’s smile. “Great heads up thinking.”
“Thanks.” Aryo’s smile was as broad as the Cairn Plains. “I’m just happy I could help.”
Still grinning, he walked away to join Isca at the far wall, where a new door had formed. Above them, the rains were slowing to a drizzle, as the water from the stone nozzles above tapered off. Tarn’s boots splashed through draining puddles as he approached the Monk.
Urthin was still looking at the vanishing remains of the sturge spawner, the liquid now little more than a blot on the stone floor.
“Intriguing beasts,” he said, now speaking with more of the flat dispassion Tarn was used to. “I wonder of its origin.”
“Something the Axe dungeon has seen,” Tarn said. He resisted the urge to pick up his earlier conversation with Urthin. His friend would let him know. “Or someone who’s been in here. It had to come from somewhere.”
“Indeed.” Urthin folded his arms behind his back. “And yet the histories of the Shattered Stone contain no record of such a creature, or many of the things we have seen.”
He paused for a moment. He looked up at Tarn and held his gaze for a moment. Tarn didn’t need to hear the words to know a ‘thank you’ when he saw one. Urthin then turned away, headed towards the door to the next chamber.
“Most intriguing,” he said, the hope in his voice so slight Tarn doubted anyone but a close friend would notice it. He was honored to be in that category.
With the Elite still awaiting them two chambers ahead, he headed toward the door with a renewed sense of confidence.