Riley opened his eyes, slowly recovering his vision after being near-blinded by the white flash. It was a stark contrast to his new surroundings: A grimy and dark prison cell, mould and moss sprouting from almost every brick while water dripped from somewhere around him.
“Oh... my aching everything.” The pain in his head subsided as he suddenly became aware of how muffled his voice was. Then the sudden awareness of something being wrapped around his head. He reached up hesitantly, his hands now covered by thick gloves, and touched around his face. A mask, with a carved bird-like beak, covered his face and was joined to a cowl that wrapped snugly around his head.
“Agh. Didn’t think picking this class would force me to cosplay as the guy...” Riley grumbled. He groped blindly as his vision adjusted to the gloom, and steadily became aware of the faint green glow in his eyes. Glass lenses in the mask, illuminating the strange cell.
It was better than nothing. But he’d still need to get his hands on a torch. Then, when he had some light on his side, he could try and make sense of the... insanity he’d just been thrown head first into.
In his fumbling, Riley’s hand drifted to the upper right corner of his vision. A symbol, an eye inside a hexagon, suddenly flashed into existence. Riley gasped, lost his balance, and fell harshly on his side. A pained groan rose in his throat, muffled by his mask. Something clattered beside him in the darkness, quickly snapping him to attention.
A wooden staff, nearly as tall as his whole body, was resting beside him. The gnarled wood was unremarkable, save for one thing: A sharpened spike of obsidian at the top, held in place by an assortment of curling branches. Even in the darkness, it sparkled and glittered.
“Oh... right, wizards have staves. Feels cliche but I guess I could... stab someone with this pointy bit if they attack me.” Right... danger. The Arbiter made it clear he’d be facing some kind of... Rot. It would have helped if the big creepy bastard had bothered to explain anything.
He lifted his hand with great care, reaching for the utmost corner of his vision again. Once more the eyeball symbol flashed to life in his periphery. He focused on it, causing it to glow brighter. Suddenly a menu appeared in his eye, dominating his entire field of view.
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Name: Riley Blake
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Plague Wizard
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“The afterlife is a goddamn video game. This is Hell, isn’t it? I committed some stupid obscure sin, and this is what Hell is supposed to be,” he muttered.
The menu had an image off to the right side, a 3D model of Riley himself. Though the figure was covered from head to toe, Riley recognised his own slouching posture instinctively. The robe itself that adorned him was crisp and expertly tailored, all black except for the white fringe on the hem and sleeves. The boots, only barely visible, were made of leather and sensibly designed. Ideal for trekking over vast distances. The gloves of his hand were similarly sturdy and practical, only visually distinct for the strange white symbols on the back of each hand.
Riley narrowed his eyes to better focus on the image. The symbol on the gloves, the colour of bleached bone, was like an X with a diamond on top. Whatever it meant, Riley had no idea.
A label was positioned under the 3D model: Inventory. Riley motioned toward it, and was greeted with a long list of the objects in his position. Which included very little beyond the clothes on his back. Curious, he focused on the first item on the list.
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Plague Wizard’s Mask
The mask of a Plague Wizard, devout servants of Aqar’Ghul. Forged from boiled leather and carved elderwood, it provides little protection against physical damage but is surprisingly resilient against magic and toxins.
‘The chosen wizards of Aqar’Ghul dress themselves to resemble her favourite plague-carriers: Carrion birds who devour the fallen, and spread miasma with their wings.’
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“Interesting,” Riley mumbled. He moved to the next item in the list.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
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Plague Wizard’s Robe
The robes of a Plague Wizard, devout servants of Aqar’Ghul. Forged from boiled leather and shadowmesh weave, it provides little protection against physical damage but is surprisingly resilient against magic and toxins.
‘Black is the colour of Aqar’Ghul, who adorns herself in a shroud of night and dwells in the darkest underbellies of the world. Her servants, as ever, strive to emulate her.’
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Riley scratched at the side of his head. The more he learned, the more confused he got. From what little he had pulled from the Arbiter, he assumed he was meant to be fighting some sort of insidious evil. But Aqar’Ghul hardly sounded like a pleasant deity.
He scanned around himself, briefly fearful that she had somehow heard him. He had been something of an atheist before he died, but after meeting the Arbiter... anything felt possible.
He sighed, pulled himself to his feet, and checked the next item.
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Plague Wizard’s Gloves
The gloves of a Plague Wizard, devout servants of Aqar’Ghul. Designed to safely handle magical energies and corrosive chemicals.
‘The symbol on the back is an ancient emblem, branded onto the flesh of heretics by the Imperial Cathedral. Followers of Aqar’Ghul, and similarly reviled deities, adopted it as a symbol in defiance of their persecutors.
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Boots
Simple leather boots, designed to handle all manner of rough terrain.
‘Come war, famine, or plague, cobblers are always going to be in business.’
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Riley rolled his eyes. Perhaps he shouldn’t have expected a simple pair of boots to have some deep lore attached to them. Still, he was at least a little intrigued.
From the sound of things, this place (wherever ‘this place’ even was) had some measure of society to it. If he could find a decent bed to lay in, all the better.
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Obsidian Staff
A simple wizard’s staff, carved from sturdy wood and sporting a sharpened spike of obsidian. A highly functional, if basic, tool for sorcery.
‘Magic is born from the movement of the stars. How fitting, then, that metal from the heavens is such a good conductor for it.’
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Riley inspected his staff, tapping the sharpened tip a few times.
“So I do have magic. Okay... uh.. how do I... do it?” he asked himself, his voice barely above a murmur. He took a step forward, inching to the exit of his prison cell while the menu continued to dominate his vision. He could see that, fortunately, the door had rusted and fallen apart over the years, allowing for an easy escape.
Aside from being dressed in a much more uncomfortable outfit, he didn’t feel any different. He would have assumed a wizard would feel more... wizardly than he currently did.
He scanned his inventory again, halting when he spied another label on his menu: Spells.
“Oh. Duh.” He motioned to that label, the menu shifting again. Two icons greeted him, both listed as being ‘equipped.’ Both images showed a gloved hand, one cradling a cloud of white mist while the other carried a similar purple cloud.
He hovered over the first one, bringing up a new window of text.
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Blinding Mist
Plague wizardry. Releases a cloud of mist that causes blindness and intense eye irritation on anyone caught within it. Low damage, but strong crowd control.
‘The first lesson imparted to the wizards of Aqar’Ghul. Those who spurn us are blind in spirit, thus shall we render them blind in flesh too.’
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Riley narrowed his eyes and focused on the second spell.
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Choking Haze
Plague wizardry. Creates a cloud of mist that renders breathable air toxic, choking and bloodying the throats of those who breathe it.
‘The second lesson imparted to the wizards of Aqar’Ghul. Those who speak blasphemies to us shall have their lying throats scoured, and their words shall become as blood.’
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Riley read through both spells again, but found himself no more thrilled. The spells sounded useful, of course, but neither of them seemed adept at actually killing enemies. He spared another glance to the pointed tip of his staff.
The metal certainly looked sturdy. He cautiously directed it toward the wall of the cell and scraped it against the bricks. It cut a neat path clean through the stone. “Better than nothing,” Riley mumbled. Though he was still no more pleased about this situation.
It was, admittedly, not entirely in line with the Hippocratic Oath to contemplate using a staff in such a way, but Hippocrates had never been in this situation. Presumably. Lastly, he took note of a final entry in the Spells category: Passive Abilities.
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Commune with Vermin
Aqar’Ghul blesses her followers with the ability to speak with plague carriers, and direct them. Rats, carrion birds, and foul insects will be open to communicating with you.
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Now that he had a better grasp of his possessions and abilities, he supposed the only thing to do was go forward. Which would entail a lot of roaming around blindly, since the Arbiter had given him nothing to work with.
He finally reached the mouth of his cell and dared to peer out from the doorway. All around him was darkness, cells stretching on for a considerable distance. Deep pools of water lined the floor, while icicles and a bed of frost dominated the ceiling. Riley didn’t feel too cold, personally, so perhaps the robe was thicker than it felt.
Riley took a deep breath and finally worked up the nerve to leave his cell.
“Ah. There you are.”
The voice made him stumble, nearly knocking him off balance until he gripped the bars of another cell door. Riley whipped his gaze around, his eyes resting on a figure who was sitting just off to the side of his cell.
A woman, dressed in a flowing white and red robe, a hood covering the top of her head. Curly strands of scarlet hair poked out of the sides, framing a pale and angelic face.
Slowly, she lifted her head to look Riley in the eye. He recoiled, gripping his staff tighter, as he looked at her eyes. They were slitted, like those of a serpent.
“My noble Warden,” she said, speaking in a low, soft voice. “I am Arubis. I shall serve thee, as your Oracle."