“Oh my gosh, look, they want to help us so bad they’re running right for us!”
Elia didn’t bother to wrestle for control over her voice. Rye could have it, for all she cared as long as she didn’t asphyxiate the both of them.
‘As friendly as a french bulldog,’ Elia thought as she sprinted towards the exit between her and the knight who was easily a foot and a half taller than her. Forget fighting, she’d be lucky if she managed to outrun them. They both had plate armor but while hers was limited to a helmet, shin and arm guards and a battered breastplate over tattered padding, her soon-to-be-death was encased from head to toe like a full-metal crab.
Contrary to popular belief, good plate armor didn’t inhibit the range of movement, nor did it turn someone into a janky marionette. Instead, it worked the numbers on the acceleration and deceleration axis. Elia felt like a child trying to win a fight against an SUV with a snowplow. She had a good thirty feet of lead on the knight, a lead that was rapidly shrinking as they charged towards each other, one to kill, the other to run the hell away.
‘Why do your legs have to be so short!?’ she thought.
It occurred to Elia that in the weird and logically impossible interaction between herself and the former owner of her body, thoughts were not transmitted, only willing speech. Which meant Rye couldn’t hear her and Elia didn’t have time to warn her of the danger via hand signs or interpretative dance as her face was duly occupied. Rye of course was ignoring every sign of both their imminent demise as she frantically tried to win this world’s version of the Darwin award, making both of them the happiest sounding target for miles.
“Hello! We come in peace! We’re frien–“
Elia tripped. It was not the time to be tripping on things, especially not twenty feet in front of the exit. Her cranial companion had the time to register the shock before biting down on her tongue hard.
OWww-heyyy, the pain is gone.
Elia, now in control of both face and voice, really wanted to strangle someone. Sadly, the only options were herself and a three hundred pound raging martial maniac. As she rolled to a stop, the knight now stood within stabbing distance and proceeded to do just that, vigorously.
She threw her head to the side, an ear rending screech accompanying the sharp metal biting her helmet’s side. She pulled her light crossbow up and pressed the trigger. The thin bolt bounced harmlessly off the beaked visor and the knight, still towering above her, growled in that way all mindless undead did as it crushed her crossbow with a smash of its shield.
We’re citizens of the Empire, why are you attacking us!?
Elia was too busy scooting out of the way of sword strikes and shield smashes to drum up enough snark for an answer. She rolled and scrambled backwards, looking for an opening the knight just wouldn’t give.
Her back hit a wall.
With a heavy thrust that whiffed just inches above Elia’s head, she took the chance and crawled under the knight. It gave her just enough time to stumble to a stand and make sure she was still holding her sword before breaking into a sprint. A sprint that lasted for precisely one moment before she heard the ominous whooshing of the long sword and a sharp pain erupted up her leg.
She bit through it and ran through the maze and past a hole in the ground, around a corner and over a toppled wall. The sounds of heavy metal bootsteps never failed to stay on her heels and the further she ran, the more the anxiety grew that she was going to run into another dead end.
A chance presented itself, a hole in the wall to her right barely hidden by a desiccated curtain of ivy. She made a snap decision and dove for it. It was barely large enough for a child and her chestplate got stuck at the narrowest part.
Oh beans!
“Not. Now. Shit, fuck.”
Elia turned right, then left. The heavy footsteps approached fast, too fast. She turned right harder and finally, her armor dislodged itself but just as she popped through an armored glove grasped her ankle and pulled her half a foot back to send her sprawling again.
The floor hit her head hard, but she turned around and kicked out in desperation again and again.
“Let go, let go, let go!” When the gauntleted hand finally let go, she scrambled backwards until her back hit the other wall. The knight’s hand searched the area around the hole like a dejected centipede but eventually it gave up. It took minutes before the undead knight’s footsteps disappeared back into the distance and the air was filled with silence and Elia’s ragged breath.
“Yeah, you… better run.”
An out of breath and sweating Elia leaned against the wall, air swimming with squiggly lines, breaths coming short and everything tasting like blood. The wraps around her left leg were soaked red. Worst of all was the emotional damage.
The knight tried to kill us. But knights are good! They’re the good guys!
“FUCK!” A skull went flying as Elia took her anger out on a skeletonized corpse. It hit the stone with a sickening crack, and she took out some old bandages, cursing as she tightened them around her calf. “Why the fuck are you here?”
M-me?
She cupped her face in her hands, moaning in exasperation.
“The Old Maiden. Capital T, O and M.”
The Old Maiden? Is that a title or a name or... those rags of yours don’t look clean. They’re going to make your wounds feverish you know. If you’re going to steal my body, could you at least take care of it a little better?
“It’s the knight’s name.” And that was that, no reason to elaborate further. Her lips parted and before she realized, words poured forth like from cracks in a dam. “I knew her, once. A friend.”
Oh. That makes sense. You do look knightly yourself. Somewhat. Were you on bad terms? Are you perhaps a runaway hedgeknight or perhaps an exile?
“No. No, no, no.” Why was she even talking about this to herself, to Rye? Nothing would come of this and staying in place was a certain suicide by knight. The Old Maiden was a tenacious sort and not the kind to be deterred by something as trivial as a wall for long.
A diversion seemed prudent. “Don’t worry about the bandages, we’ll be dead before the infection sets in.”
EXCUSE ME?
“Yeah. We’re not making it back to the healing fountain – bowl, tub, whatever – if The Old Maiden is still back there. Far as I’ve seen, this place isn’t exactly known for its revolutionary medical practices. Besides the one that turns everyone into semi-immortal undead. Weird how that came before penicillin.”
You’re not making sense again but please, PLEASE, don’t give up. I-I don’t want to die.
Once more, Elia was faced with the conundrum of shutting her mouth or saying something that would make her brain bud cry. So, she decided to compromise. “Don’t worry, if we get a good one we won’t even see it coming.”
As far as compromises went, it wasn’t a very good one. Rye started crying. A lot. Since the sound came from every angle inside her head, Elia was certain that if this went on, she really would go insane. Perhaps she underestimated the mental fortitude of someone willing to almost kill them both multiple times.
“It was probably an accident. You’re new here after all.”
What does THAT even ME-HE-HEEEAN?
This was turning into a fiasco. A fiasco that was making her eye a reset. Elia hated those because nothing in her possession remained sharp for long and the undead were famously clumsy in their execution of executions. Oh, and she’d rather do it in a place where her souls remained easily retrievable. Rye still hadn’t said anything helpful about what they could possibly be used for but that was fine with her. Elia was just using them to keep a score.
There was still another way out. Something that helped Elia through the most trying times. She pulled Quibbles from her bag and held him gently in front of her face.
“Rye. Rye, look at me. Look at what I’m looking at, Rye.”
The crying turned into wheezing sniffles.
It’s… a frog?
“This is Quibbles. He is a toad. He is my friend. Do you want to be his friend, too?”
Me?
“Yes. Just look at him. He is such a good boy.” And one of the few things that anchored her own sanity. If it worked for her, it had to work for the sad girl. “Isn’t he good? Look at his little eyes, his stubby toes, his shapely posterior. He wants you to hold him.”
I-I don’t know… I don’t really like… frogs.
“Good thing he’s a toad then.”
Elia took a deep breath and ceded control over both her hands. She could feel Rye flowing into one, fitting naturally like water into a cup. The hand moved on its own, first gently in the fingertips, then in roiling wave motions as they squished and massaged the toad all around.
He’s so… so squishy.
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“That’s right. He is a squishy friend. And now he is yours, too.” Mission accomplished. Crisis averted. “Now, let me do my thing. Both our lives are at stake here.”
Rye continued petting the toad for a while, Quibbles evidently enjoying the attention. After a few minutes passed, Elia felt her hands return without friction and only moderately moist.
“Thank fuck.”
Language…
“Thank language, too. Now. Onwards.”
Elia slowly looked around and failed to find any sign of the temple or the north-duck cloud. With only one way forward, she marched on, though her leg was fairly stiff, and her walk turned into more of a hobble. She was mentally prepared to face another few hours of walking through endless hemmed-in corridors until she keeled over but when she turned the corner, the road opened up behind a flowery arch into an open field.
It stretched out hundreds of feet ahead and at least ninety to each side, sown with half broken arches, stone benches and toppled over gravestones, some as tall as her and taller. More than that, the sheer scale of openness made her gape. Her enthusiasm dampened as none of the sides showed any sign of entry or egress and a nervous glance to the sky finally tipped the scales towards restrained unease.
This place was new.
To the left, the temple appeared so much closer now, almost as if she could touch it. Maybe if she crossed to the end of the field and climbed over a few walls she would be able to, shortly before being pasted by the inevitable rock bird all across the maze again.
This place was special.
“Finally. It’s all paying off.”
However, the area didn’t purely inspire confidence. An eviscerated corpse of a warrior in faded leathers and chainmail sat casually at the entrance. Skittering dozens of black shapes betrayed the true danger hidden between the tombstones. Their outlines appeared fuzzy and like sea urchins they were covered over and over in thin hair-like needles.
“Spiders.” Elia watched grimly as one the size of her head crawled across the wall close to her face. “My arch nemesis.”
Looting the corpse next to her was a welcome distraction, though something had turned its chest into a sieve, dozens of holes torn through layers of gambeson.
You have gained: Bone shard [Common] x1
“Ooh, lucky me. That makes four. Eight to go.”
The field was anything but empty and though Elia would have liked to complain about the redundant set pieces, she couldn’t help but feel awe at the sheer scale of open space. It felt like a luxury, only having one side hemmed in by sarcophagi stacked two stories high like dockyard containers. Few plants grew here and there in the muck and from between the cobblestone roads crisscrossing through the area. Most of them were shriveled and dead, but a few groups showed hints of yellow, and lighter browns and even a splotch of green.
“New place, new plants, new loot, new horrible ways to die.” Elia carefully tip toed around a cluster of spiders doing spider things, climbed over an empty sarcophagus, and landed in muddy grass. She shuddered, almost letting out a moan as she felt something other than stone and sharp rocks between her toes. “I think I’m in love with this place.”
I thought you’d hate it. Because of the spiders. Careful, they’re tranquil critters, but just as poisonous.
And there was Rye, finally sounding like she had something to contribute besides insults and pesky emotions. “It’s a difficult relationship. I can feel it in my toes. This place is special.”
A tingle went down her feet and Elia found herself rooted in place.
I don’t know, all I feel is mud.
And apparently, she found her sense of humor as well. Good for her. And since there was nothing much to gain by standing in the mud, she even released control without Elia prompting her. How polite.
Taking the muddiest path, Elia soon arrived at a podium, an altar or something of the sort. It wasn’t more than a rough stone slab sitting on an elevated platform, but there were corpses aplenty for her to peruse nearby.
You have gained: Bone shard [Common] x3
You have gained: Blue brilliant beetle x1
“Okay, this just turned from a lucky loop into a suspiciously lucky loop.”
Elia? Could you do something for me?
“As long as it doesn’t involve pointing blades at my throat, sure.”
I… sorry. I was scared and I did something stupid.
“Wow.” Elia’s eyebrows remained raised as she deposited the loot in her loot bag. “I sure do feel like a piece of toast right about now.”
Like a what?
“Y’know. Dry and flavorless, but all buttered up.”
Are you being weird on purpose again?
“Beats me. I’m just very lubricated in various animal fats, because you’re laying it on thick and oh boy is it making me feel tasty.”
Okay. Don’t take this the wrong way, I’m happy you’re not mad… but you sound like you’re mad.
“No comment.” Elia smiled, before she realized that Rye couldn’t see it. “You were saying something about a favor?”
Yes. Could you put one of those bone shards on the altar?
“Ooh, more suspicious behavior. I’m in. Anything for a friend of a friend.” Elia took the smallest shard and placed it square on the rock.
Ok. Now repeat after me. “Say after me: ‘All things have a price, we offer our due sacrifice.’”
“All things have a price, we offer our due sacrifice?”
A small gust of wind picked up and before her very eyes the shard dissolved into white smoke, leaving behind… nothing.
You have donated a bone shard. Blessings of the sun upon you.
“Explain.”
Well, I wanted to pray to the gods. I gave them an offering so they would listen and grant us a bit of their bounteous fortune. Usually there’s more ritual around it, but I figured this was the only chance I’d get, so…
“And the shard is gone? Like, gone-gone?” Elia checked the altar, then next to it, then beneath it. Nothing.
Well, yes. That’s what a sacrifice means. You give something of your own and gain more in return for your generosity.
“So, you threw some coins at the rich in the hopes more would trickle back down to you?” This was the worst trade deal in the history of trade deals, maybe ever. “I’m sorry to say my little brain bud, but you fell for a pyramid scheme.”
A what now?
“It’s the oldest trick in the book. You should’ve asked for money. Or a sword. Or two bone shards.”
That’s not how this works. It’s not a, a… bazaar, where you bid for godly attention. You have to give, willingly, before you receive, and I wasn’t so sure they’d even accept stolen shards like yours. But they did and now fortune smiles upon us.
“Welp. You still got ripped off. Which means I got ripped off. And for something as intangible as ‘luck.’” She gently nudged a spider from her path with the tip of her sword. “Last time I’m listening to you.”
Wind whipped past her ear, followed by a stream of whizzing sounds. Elia didn’t even have time to dodge as a barrage of something missed her face by an inch. She immediately dove behind a row of gravestones and moments later, was showered with powdered and shattered flakes of ice.
“Fuck that’s cold! What the hell is this, magic?”
Y-yes, I think. We’re being attacked! Oh gods, this is horrible. We’re going to DIE!
Where’s Rye’s voice was loud, Elia was rather monotone. “Oh no, the humanity.”
She peeked over the edge just in time to spot a distant distortion like reflecting shards of glass twinkling in the sunlight. A barrage of icicles ricochet off the top of her helmet, dissuading her from peeking again anytime soon. But she had seen enough.
“So, Rye. Can spiders learn magic?”
What? No, don’t be ridiculous.
“What about giant spiders?”
That’s… still a no?
She risked another eye to peek in between two gravestones. “Well, we’ve got one enormous Shelob hanging out roughly two football fields and five washing machines in that direction. She seems to be pulling on blue strings and cutting the air with all her many legs. Oh, and she has a wide brimmed droopy hat.”
Oh. OH NO.
The hat all but confirmed it. “The giant spider knows magic.”
A large icicle shattered the stone podium to the side. Elia didn’t flinch, not as the huge spider coated her immediate area in a rain of sharpened ice.
“Gotta be a way out. Gotta run. Any comments?”
We’re gonna DIE!
“Yep, thought as much. On three. One–“
Her words were cut off as a single shard found its mark and stabbed her right in the face. The air was filled with a string of inventive curses entirely new to this world as Elia rolled around on the floor for a good while, the odd stray shot pelting against her armor.
Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh, are you alright? Your face – my, our, agh – it’s, you, umm, can I–
“I knew it! This was – shit – was a boss arena. Gah, that burns!”
Boss? Arena? Like with gladiators and chariot racing? Oh no, what do we do, what do we do, what do we do-ho-hoo!?
“Just… dodge.” She laughed mirthlessly to herself. The incoming stream might as well have come from a gatling gun. There was no way to get back the way she came without being turned into a finely ground mist. “Honestly, I’ve faced better odds.”
With one hand covering her eye and the other in her pocket, she popped a blue beetle in her mouth in the hopes it would tilt the odds a bit. She never tested how far slightly increased magic resistance went and now that she was loaded up on six whole bone shards it was a bad time to find out.
You have consumed: Blue brilliant beetle
Your resistance to magic has been temporarily increased
“I know! Mute!”
Elia counted to three, threw herself upwards and set into a mad sprint from cover to cover, evading the shots with mixed success. First a pile of sarcophagi, then a one-story tall gravestone with half an odyssey inscribed into it, then a particularly gnarled and twisty tree served as temporary cover before the creature adjusted its aim. The barrage of icicles strafed her more than once and where it barely left a mark on her metal armor, on her skin the projectiles still pierced uncomfortably deep.
The protection wore off, like an invisible blanket being lifted and she felt twice as vulnerable as before.
“Note to self: Blue bug duration is around forty seconds.”
Oh beans, that’s not very long, not very long at all, oh no, oh no, oh beans!
“Slow down, gonzales. Or stay quiet, I’d much prefer that.” She took a quick peak over the edge, eyes bulging out of her head as a blue pillar of condensed ice at least ten foot tall and one wide sped towards her like a cruise missile.
The impact shook the ground and turned the tree into woodchips as Elia rolled away to protect her face from the worst. She was still blasted away a good dozen feet as the pillar detonated on impact, kicking her like a mule. Two mules. With track spikes.
You have gained: Soul x3
You have gained the condition: Poisoned
“Um.” Elia’s gaze fell on the three bristly spiders she had rolled over. The adrenaline had kicked in and she wasn’t feeling the most of it, but a slither of something hot wormed its way up her insides. Rye was screaming as always and, in that moment, Elia wondered whether this loop could get much worse.
The sound of rapidly approaching metal footsteps were a good indication of the ‘how’, though the ‘why’ still remained unclear. The Old Maiden seemed incredibly driven in finding and killing specifically her and no one else. It made sense that she would eventually find a way around the hole in the wall. Why her once friend was now a mindless undead, she could guess, just not why she was being targeted in specific.
Even as she struggled to stand, Elia refused to go down without a fight. It was as much tradition as it was a matter of principle, a show that in spite of everything, she would not stop. She’d rather be killed by a friend than some random arachnid hopped up on an astral ice slurry anyways. “This’ll hurt me a lot more than it will hurt you. Unless you’re an empath. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere this time.”
There was no time to regret the irony in her words. A second pillar of ice was flung at her from behind but instead of detonating it ricochet off the muddy ground and, now traveling at a slight upwards tilt, took Elia square in the rear.
One second, she was facing an old friend, ready to be cut down, in the next she was soaring mere feet over the labyrinth at blinding speed. The acceleration made her black out for a moment and when she came to, it was a split second before being pasted against a fountain.
Scream. Crunch. Death.
‘At least this is closer to my checkpoint. I think.'
You have died
You have lost: Soul x1624
You have lost: Bone shard [Common] x6
***
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