WE ARE SO SCREWED!
The eldritch centipede dog slammed into a wall, claws scrabbling along the stone as it reoriented towards Elia whom its first charge had missed by a good few paces.
It was not the most agile of creatures then, though its fuzzy arm-legs worked to swiftly right the centidog with uncomfortably skittering motions. Elia was content to gain distance from it. This was not like the Forlorn Giant, who had mostly moved like a human. This thing was a monster, a gross parody of the dog ever-present on Glenrock’s coat of arms.
If she was generous, then she could see the remnants of a normal undead hound beneath its tarry skin. The familiarities ended there as it was bloated to the size of a rhino and still flaunted enough mobility to keep her on the back foot.
Elia would rather have fought an entire pack of normal undead dogs. She dove behind an ogre’s corpse as the beast soared over and past.
“H-haha! JUKED!” she cried, more for herself than anyone else.
The large corpses were the closest thing to cover she had and even then, they were little more than a speedbump. The dog didn’t bother turning around and Elia ducked under a tearing snap of its tail-jaws, shooting to her feet, and building up some more distance.
“Could use some MAGIC, Rye!”
S-s-sure, h-here goes!
Her offhand tingled and – already holding the conjurer’s staff – began accumulating a sizable chunk of ice over dreadful seconds, seconds Elia frantically passed through keeping the massive hound from tearing her in two.
One bite was all it would take.
The dog reared back, a sudden movement up its bowels and neck the only hint for Elia to throw herself to the side. A violent stream of foul–smelling goop drenched the spot where she had been just moments ago, and the skin of an ogre’s corpse sloughed off in seconds.
Centidog acid. One type of death she’d rather avoid.
She backed off, just as a coiled conch exploded a few feet away. Of course, the undead on the walls had to throw them now.
R-readyyy! Rye cried, as Elia pointed her side with the staff at the dog thing.
The shot nearly missed as it careened off to the side, hitting the dog’s half tail, half second head in the… head?
“Oh it didn’t like that.” Elia yelled between pants as she struggled to grab the string loop attached to one of her conch shells before sending it careening directly towards center mass. It exploded and the dog burst into flames. “Oh it really didn’t like that.”
Do we actually stand a chance?
“We don’t stand a dog of a chance!”
That doesn’t make any sense!
“Cards!” The dog was tearing into the ground and nearby corpses. A chunk of earth hit her in the head just as she ducked around a wooden barricade. “Four hailstone bolts, a dozen throwing knives, one shell… It’s not enough!”
Still, she kept at a distance, dodging, and weaving between the massive corpses while maintaining absolute focus not to trip and fall over. A second bolt flew. A third one. A fourth, fifth. All hit. All cracked bone.
I’m out!
And the dog was still as lively as ever. Joy.
It suddenly rolled over on its side, dozens of grasping arms grabbing for a surprised Elia who couldn’t dodge in time. Two wrapped around her arm and though she smashed both with her morningstar, there was no escaping the hundred arm bearhug.
Her spine cracked before she could fully witness the six or seven smaller rotten dog heads pull her deeper into the monster’s belly.
You have lost: Soul x7613
You have lost: Bone shards [Common] x2
You have lost: Bone shards [Uncommon] x3
----------------------------------------
“Congratulations, it’s a monster,” Elia muttered in a daze.
When Elia woke up, it was to an audibly distressed, sobbing Rye. A part of her was annoyed, a smaller one sympathetic. As far as deaths went, that one was not her best. Still beat being eaten alive by spiders.
“You, uh, alright there?”
Alright? ALRIGHT? It twisted my arm until it broke, Elia. It hurt so, so much…
“Right.” She was still in control at that point. Elia gave her a mental kudos at not fumbling the staff. “Next time we’re about to die, release control. I’ll handle it.”
… handle it? Elia, don’t mind me, a-are YOU alright?
“… is that a trick question?”
How? How do you do it?
“Exposure therapy.” And a healthy dose of disassociation. It wasn’t like her body belonged to her in the first place. “Now, enough whimpering. We need to get through that dogipede if we want to get into the castle and past through to Loften, you dig?”
I… I think I ‘dig’. I would rather not ‘dig’, but in circumstances of extreme pressure, I prefer ‘digging’ over not ‘digging’. Do you ‘dig’, too?
“Frequently.” There was nothing better to do when at the beach. Man, Elia could go for some ice cream right about now. Straciatella-mango, the only real choice. “Alright, listen up. All I need out of you is to use your magic. No pain, no risk, just five shots and I’ll handle it from there. You up for that much?”
I– yes, yes I am. But Elia, that was a beast. A thing, f-from, from the–
“The forest?” She figured it had just escaped from some traumatized kid’s nightmare.
Yeah. I think. The kind that entire legions fight on the border and not just mortal ones. How much of a chance do we really have?
Elia glanced at her singular remaining conch shell. Not enough to kill it from afar, but she was unlikely to kill this thing in melee, too many chances for instant death. With a sigh, she got up again and cursed herself for worrying about eventualities.
“Let me put it this way: We need a miracle to win this time. A miracle or a way to skew the odds.”
----------------------------------------
Dedicating an entire loop to observing her enemies paid off, always. It had to; it would have been a waste otherwise. Her first observation as she entered the courtyard strewn with corpses however had nothing to do with Vita the Fane-eater.
You have regain–
I-I’m amazed you never lost your souls and sundry, not once in all this time.
“What can I say? I’m awesome.” She peeked to the side, making sure no movement stirred in the dark lair of the centidog. “Also, losing souls sucks. I know my priorities.”
Well, if you’re keeping an eye on them then I can rest easy.
Twenty paces into the yard, she twisted her head back as an iron grate closed her only way out. A sneaky undead standing atop the inner gatehouse was what locked her in. Then, it had the gall to lob a coiled conch in her general direction.
The explosive seashell shattered a few paces short. A second one was already prepped. As the undead twirled it around its head, Elia had a stupid idea.
She snatched it by the hoop of rope before it impacted the ground, mildly surprised that she managed it without killing herself. Lucky for her, this undead didn’t lob the shells with too much gusto or precision.
“Yes! Hah, thanks for the conch, sucker!” It readiedout another shell. “Ack, wait, I only have two hands!”
Elia promptly retreated back out of range.
You are playing with fire. They call it dramatic fire for a reason, y’know?
“Because it explodes quite… dramatically?”
That earned her a snort.
No, that would be silly. There’s only one place in the whole civilized world that knows the secrets of this alchemical fire: Drama. The great city of poet warriors? Ever heard of it? No?
Elia liked her explanation better. “What a weird name for a city.”
True, but they do make good theatre. Have you seen ‘The Tragedy of Queen Nue’ or the ‘Moryad’?
“I saw avengers: endgame once. The comics were cooler, the good ones at least, but we’re not here for a culture exchange.” Vita the great dripping dog emerged from his gate. Elia made sure her extra conch was secure, double checking her dagger, throwing daggers and most importantly, Quibbles.
“Ribbit.”
Her focus returned to the dog. It entered in perfect mirror fashion to the first time, the dramatic horror replaced with a steady undercurrent of wariness and determination. It roared and though she was loathe to admit it her heart already beat an unsteady tune.
It charged and Elia ran in a semi-circle around it. Heavy, slow to turn. A first observation as its snapping jaws followed but failed to catch her.
She kept her distance, eyes in rapt attention on its limbs. Despite energetic movements, it was dragging much of its weight instead of running on all fours. The nest of limbs and maws in its belly helped it stand, but otherwise got in the way of its hind legs more often than not.
Around the back then?
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She got closer and immediately it surged backwards, frighteningly quick for its bulk. The tail bisected and nearly cleft her in two as she dodged to the side. It continued its reverse charge, but the dog missed by a foot and slammed into a wall.
T-T-That was close!
It was quick in bursts then, but the problems with turning and maneuvering remained. Still, those two big maws were an issue. Front or back, one bite meant instant death. Similarly, being hit by the vomit meant debilitating pain, followed by less instant death. The hands and smaller heads? If she let herself be caught: broken bones, broken spine and then death.
More reasons to get a long poky stick instead of trying to get close. Though in this loop, she had no other options if she wished to preserve her consumables. A possible gain of two to three free conches a loop was nice but that was presuming she caught them each time and that she died enough to take advantage of them.
With a sigh, she closed into melee range, approaching the dog from the side where the first two threats of instant death had a harder time reaching her. In the meantime, Elia could wail on the dog’s side almost entirely unmolested as the hands were too busy holding up its considerable bulk. A few still attempted to grab for her, but they were evaded, then punished in turn. Exposed bone broke, ghostly pale hands and arms shattered in between the methodical back and forth.
During a near brush with its flowing goopy skin, she saw it. A thick spear tip was sticking out from its sides, a few links of heavy chain dangling where monstrous strength had pulled them apart. Many smaller ones from past failed heroes were hidden as well, coated by the tar. Likely, this was her possible key out.
One of Elia’s smacks got near the wound. The dog very much so didn’t like it, snapping with its front and rear. As Elia dodged, an arm near immediately uncoiled itself from its knot and tore away a pouch with a heart-wrenching squeal.
“QUIBBLES!”
Elia jumped into the bundle of arms, ripping and tearing as they closed around her.
Her hand closed around the missing pouch containing her froggy friend and the arms ejected her unceremoniously, launching her to the side where she skidded to a halt against a dead ogre. The Fane-eater pounced and ripped her to shreds within seconds.
You have died.
Undead curse overflowing
Further deaths will lead to erosion of self. Sacrifice a boon to gain absolution.
You have lost: Soul x8201
You have lost: Bone shards [Common] x3
You have lost: Bone shards [Uncommon] x3
----------------------------------------
Elia stared at the checkpoint in front of her, kneading Quibbles like a ball of dough. Moments like these were still plenty stressful, no matter how many boons she lost. It was a common lie she told herself, that holding onto them like prized possessions was long a thing of the past.
Please not my boon, please not my boon again!
“Take the useless weather boon, please!”
You have offered a boon: Blessing of Dentus [Common]
Undead curse quelled.
A breath she didn’t notice she was holding escaped her lips. A look towards the stronghold filled her heart with contempt and a little sense of ease. Things were alright now, for a time.
Something cracked, and she pulled a steel tooth from her mouth. Then the rest followed, and she cursed the world anew.
----------------------------------------
Another attempt, another grisly death. This time she managed to wound its front paw, turning its charges into a tumble of limbs as it tripped over itself. But getting this far had taken too long and in between constantly diving back and forth she was now exhausted, nearly seeing everything double.
Her throat burned. Her left bracer was eaten through by acid and her arm gnawed down to the bone.
“Still… got it… gonna… get… him.”
Vita charged and Elia found her body didn’t have the strength to jump aside.
You have died
You have lost: Soul x9158
You have lost: Bone shards [Common] x4
You have lost: Bone shards [Uncommon] x3
----------------------------------------
A large undead swung its three-headed flail, heads embedding in the wet ground.
Do you really have to fight these undead before the spiky dog every time? Why not sneak around?
“They’re predictable, they’re on the way and they give good souls.”
She dodged another strike and followed up with one of her own.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 8 min
“Also, don’t want them to follow me in there.” One enemy she could dodge, two as well for a time. It would take a lot more than a single dreg to deal any appreciable damage to Vita.
This goes against every law of the conservation of souls imaginable.
“Sure, but I’m not one to–“
An ungentlemanly kick to her stomach sent her keeling over. The flail-guys never kicked! How unfair. But she could play unfair too.
A minute spent luring the undead around, a roll to the side and a stab to the groin later, her foe was bleeding out on the ground.
You have gained: Souls x400
You have gained: Bone shards [Common] x1
I think I’m ready to puke again.
“S-see? Easy…” Her stomach convulsed and she dry-heaved once more.
I told you this was risky! You don’t have armor and now you’re hurt. What next?
“Next…? Next w–we get our souls and then… then we fight the dog.”
You really mean it. You think you can win? In your condition?
“Watch me. Ran a mile with… a bolt in my back. Didn’t notice until I fell over… dead.”
That inspires the opposite of confidence. Just ask for help, I’m sure Sextus would be willing to assist.
“I don’t need help.” She stood a bit straighter before carrying on. The grate fell closed behind her, carnage greeting her once again. “I don’t. We’ll be fine on our own.”
Like you told your father in your dream?
The small door by the front gate opened from this side, the metal screech grating against her ears as much as Rye’s proselytizing.
“O-oh, the doors shall remain closed, I… oh, you are already gone.” The talking door's voice petered out into the distance as she walked back.
I think you should listen to his advice. He’s your father and above that, he had a point. You’re not exactly swimming in friends and I can see why. Aren’t you gonna ask the soldiers for help? They sure do have a lot of helpful boons.
She slammed the door with her hand. “Look, lecturing me is not making you seem as smart as you’d think, prima. The mute soldier is dead, and he had the two very useful offensive boons among the three of them. You think they’ll leave him behind just to help us? You think I like seeing those guys die for nothing?”
No, I–
“Then shut the fuck up.” She caught a conch, then another. “Focus. Do your magic.”
The third one landed in her hands as well and she marched on towards the looming dark doorway, picking up her souls without so much as a glance. The gates shook. The beast roared.
Elia set her jaw. “Bolt.”
The creature charged, the long distance between them shrinking into nothing within seconds. Seconds sufficed for a single bolt and right after lobbing it at the Fane-eater, Elia dodged around the large metal corpse of a fish ogre.
“Bolt.”
The hound circled, yet another projectile slammed into its underside, breaking the largest of the small baying houndheads. Vita roared, before exploding into a furious leap.
Dodge.
Weave.
“Bolt.”
A hit to the snout, denting it to the side.
Dodge.
“Bolt.”
Another hit, sinking uselessly into the thick tar on its back. A gush of acid escaped its maw, but Elia was already out of its range.
“Bolt.”
The creature convulsed, turning just in time to evade the last bolt. Elia clicked her tongue. It still didn’t look as hurt as she’d liked. No broken leg this time, just ribs and redundant hands. Time for plan B.
… that was really uncalled for.
The dog leapt. Elia avoided it narrowly, scampering over a toppled prison cart as she lured it towards the wall.
“Not now.”
You were really hurtful, Elia! I–I don’t like being talked to that way; it makes me feel…
“Impotent? Inadequate?” The Fane-eater jumped over her and kicked with its hind legs, sending her into a tumble bouncing across muddy grass. Her stomach cramped twice as hard. The taste of copper on her lips grew pungent. Frustration. “Useless?”
Guilty. That I did my best but made things worse. That you’re gonna die again and it’ll be my fault. Please tell me you ‘got this’, Elia–AAAAH!
A hissing growl alerted her to another charge, but just as it was limbering up a conch fell from above. A wicked smile split Elia’s face. The dregs above didn’t only see her as an enemy. The constant maneuvering was killing her knees, but watching it go up in flames and flail on the ground was vindication enough to justify all the pain tenfold.
She took one of her own conches by its sling and threw it the moment the Fane–eater came to a stop.
Another conch came from above, missing sadly but the dog had other problems, namely the fire eating through its flammable skin. It scrambled to climb up the walls, falling down over and over as its many limbs couldn’t get enough hold.
Elia, talk to me.
“I’ll try not to raise my voice miss princess. Meanwhile, you don’t go snooping around in my memories. I’m saying this for your sake too.” She lobbed another conch. “And If you’re gonna – gonna judge me, do it – in a way that makes me – makes me laugh.”
It earned her a quiet sound of affirmation and nearly cost her a head as the dogipede lashed out using its tail like a bludgeon. Maybe now she could finally concentrate on the life-or-death battle in front of her.
Vita the Fane-eater was one heck of a name, but even it was starting to feel the hurt, its eyes staring at Elia warily as its fur and tar skin coagulated, falling off in clumps. Another conch fell from above, followed by her own the moment the flames were doused.
The rhythm went on, until she finally ran out of shells. A few throwing knives missed the eyes, more a fault of the dog’s thrashing than her own. It was flagging, emanating blubbering whines as it struggled to stand. Still, it was plenty dangerous even without sudden bursts of speed. Now, all Elia had to do was close in to finish it off.
This was it then. All or nothing.
It had moments before Elia was next to it and with a great swing of her Morningstar hammered one of the spearheads sticking from its hide half a foot deeper. It roared in pain, and she found herself cackling in vindictive glee as she did it again.
“Yeah, that’s right, fear the great and mighty Elia. I ain’t scared of you, you little drip-shit. C’mon, fight me, gimme your souls!”
As she licked her lips, tasting the freedom gained by impending victory, her gaze flashed to Vita growling in an ominous low timbre. Its body slumped down as its many human arms fanned out, collecting bits of the scrapped shields and broken weapons all over the battlefield.
“Oh, fuck that.”
Her eyes widened marginally before she ran in, taking less than a second between every strike aimed at crippling the next limb.
The hands were not idle. There were too many of them and whenever she sidestepped one, she could expect a counterattack with the rim of a shield, a broken sword or spear tip. More hands unfurled from the knot in its belly and the drizzle of explosive conch grenades made every second a dangerous game of chicken.
She collected a slice across her arm, two shallow stabs to her chest and a shield-slam that left her mouth full of loose teeth. Gritting her gums, she pulled back for a mighty two–handed swing when she realized she was just a bit too close to its back.
The tail-maw closed around her arm mid swing. Her heart dropped as the dog wrenched her off her feet and flung her into the air, flying high and higher until she met the eyes of a dreg carrying a box on the walls.
The box was full of conches.
As gravity overcame inertia, she reached out with her single healthy arm and caught the edge of the wall. Shreds of pain arced up and down her limb and she felt her fingers slipping. The undead looked at her with dull eyes. It took a step forward.
“Don’t do it.”
It took another step.
“Don’t.”
With a single staggering kick, it dislodged her grip and she plummeted down towards the Fane-eater’s waiting maw. An endless string of curses followed her down right towards a waiting Vita the Fane–Eater.
With a snap the dog caught her in its maw, crushing ribcage and pulping her insides. In the last moments of life, she found her arm acting on its own, stabbing the inside of the creature’s maw with her dagger.
She couldn’t even thank Rye for her bravery.
What even was the point? What was the point of having a second life when all she amounted to was a ragdoll thrown in between great and greater forces? Death no longer scared her, it was a life without purpose that tore at her at night, a life where she was hemmed back into a corner lacking any meaningful choice at all.
The darkness crept in, slowly as if to allow her to savor the mindnumbing pain of being the chew toy of a two ton crocodile dog. A hateful stare at the sky remained the last action of defiance and as she looked, she saw the undead gazing down through blurred vision.
She saw it pick up a… thing and throw that thing down towards her. Even now, the world hadn’t taken enough dumps on her face it seemed.
The object fell and she closed her eyes, her vision shaken by a crack of red-white followed by darkness.
Taint purged
You have gained: Soul x8000
You have gained: Bone shard [Common] x8
You have gained: Bone shard [Uncommon] x8
You have gained: Soul of the Fane-Eater
You have died
You have lost: Soul x18180
You have lost: Bone shard [Common] x12
You have lost: Bone shard [Uncommon] x11