Dwarven Laborer skeleton

Level 4

Hit points 33

Mana 0

Dwarven Laborer Skeletons are undead creatures created from the bones of dwarven workers who died in mines or tunnels. These skeletons are often animated by dark magic or necromancy, and they retain some semblance of their former abilities as miners, builders, or smiths.

These skeletons are easily recognized by their size and stature, standing just over 1 meter tall and possessing a stocky frame. Their bones are usually thicker and denser than those of other humanoid skeletons, reflecting the strength and endurance of their dwarven ancestors.

Despite lacking flesh or any other vital organs, these skeletons can still move with remarkable speed and agility. They are often armed with rusted pickaxes or shovels, which they wield with surprising skill and accuracy. They are also known to work together in small groups, using their mining and building skills to outmaneuver their opponents and gain an advantage in battle.

Skeletons take half damage from slashing attacks, one-quarter damage from piercing attacks, and double the damage from blunt attacks.

G watched as more skeletons sat up. He could see bits of old clothing hanging from their frames.

The room housing the tombs was roughly 10 meters wide, with the sarcophagi evenly spaced in four rows, three deep. At the far end of the room was a closed stone doorway.

"I think we can handle this," said G, summoning his mace from his inventory.

Tocai's voice rose an octave, "No, you should run."

"Nah, I got this," G replied confidently, casting a Briar Patch over the right two rows of three coffins and then another on the left side. This consumed 200 of his 420 mana, leaving him with 220. He had no intention of using mana bolts against the seven creatures; he had noticed something about the goblins the last time he had used the Briar Patch spell in the temple with the thrones.

Briar Patch:

Mana 100

Description: This spell creates a 10 meter wide patch of spiked plants that cause 2-10 damage. If crossed, lower-level creatures can become stuck for thirty seconds on a failed will save. Higher-level creatures slow by 50% for 10 seconds.

The key to this fight wasn't to blast the skeletons with mana bolts but rather to keep them in the patch of briars. Even if they took reduced damage, they would be harmed as long as they were moving. That was why the goblins hadn't tried to run or attack through it.

He cast Whip of Thorns, and as soon as the first skeleton dropped out of its coffin onto the floor, he struck out with the whip, aiming not to wrap the skeleton with the thorns but to knock it backward into the briars. The two patches effectively covered the coffins, and every time a skeleton made its way to the last coffin in the row, about two meters from G, he lashed out again.

"Oh," Tocai remarked as the AI observed the one-sided destruction of the skeletal workers. At one point, a worker did make it to a wall, and that one received a mana bolt. However, all the others mindlessly advanced straight toward G, disregarding the damage caused by the Briar Patch as their movement slowed or they became stuck, only to be knocked back a few meters each time. G had 80 mana remaining, and all the skeletons were destroyed in less than the five-minute duration of the Briar Patch spell.

"There we go. That's how you play a druid," G said with a smile. He had played many different characters in various games, and druids always excelled at three things: damage over time with crowd control, shape-shifting into powerful creatures, or healing their parties. They also usually had some minor spells to enhance or buff themselves before battles. He would have done the same thing with the Grurenderer, but he was pretty sure that creature wouldn't have taken any damage, and slowing something for just 10 seconds wouldn't have been enough to defeat it. Smaller foes, however, stood little chance once trapped in a Briar Patch.

There were still skeletons in some of the coffins that hadn't opened, pounding on their lids. G planned to take care of them as soon as his mana regenerated. He backed up to the wall at the rear of the chamber and sat down. He took out some of the mushroom chunks he still had and ate while his mana gradually replenished. He opened his prompts from the one-sided battle.

Dwarven worker skeletons 7x 280 experience.

Not quite halfway to the next level, he observed the coffins that hadn't opened.

His mana filled, and G stood up. It took several more minutes to reduce the remaining skeletons to mulch. He almost crushed his legs with one of the stone lids as it hit the floor, but his mace dealt extra damage to the skeletons before they could even escape their coffins, turning the task into more of a cleanup than a fight.

Dwarven worker skeletons 5x 200 experience.

He was close; he wanted that level, he wanted that subclass.

Once all the coffins were cleared, he listened at the door. It had a handle on this side, and a series of footprints led to it. They weren't the same as Phan's, but they appeared to be a boot or at least shoe prints. They weren't skeleton worker prints.

He paused briefly to examine the room using his magical sight. What he saw was interesting: a pattern of magical energy, or perhaps rune lines, leading from each coffin to a central spot right in front of the broken wall he had come through. Someone had placed a magical trap of some sort that awoke the skeletons, perhaps even empowering them in the first place. That didn't seem like a dwarvish thing to do.

"Do we know of any games or stories where dwarves cast necromantic magic, Tocai?" asked G.

"Only one, Dwarven Fortress, 2013, hard to accomplish, but you could be a necromancer dwarf, all though possible in other games, again very rare. No other games had this theme; the previous version of Planarverse had dwarves as tinkerers, smiths, and builders of renown. Their magic came from their competence in their crafting," replied Tocai.

More mysteries, he cast his two travel spells before searching the coffins and the room. He put a couple of the rusty picks and shovels in his inventory. Each of the skeletons appeared to be buried with one or the other. They were rusty but not unusable; the handles were made of some treated wood or mushroom stalk material that had aged better than the iron. Mostly, they had just bits of cloth or leather on them. Nothing usable.

Once his mana replenished near full, he slowly pushed the door open. It wasn't latched or locked. Beyond lay a long hallway with similar doors on each side spaced evenly. He counted eight doors here. He used his magical sight before stepping into the hallway. He didn't see any more runes or magical lines anywhere. He moved to the door across from him and slowly opened it. It revealed a similar room with coffins laid in rows. There were no magical lines here, either. He looked at the coffins, wondering if he should search those. The idea unsettled him. So he closed the door and checked the other chambers. All of them were the same: 12 coffins in rows, each room nearly identical to the first. He moved on down the corridor, where it turned right and led to another door.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He paused to listen at the door. Not detecting any magic, he pushed the door open a crack and looked inside. The room gave him a feeling of dread, as if something inside it made his inner being scream in rage at its very existence and fear. Some deep reserve of druidic, elven, or perhaps both instincts screamed in rage at what he saw in this room.

What he saw in the room assaulted his senses with the overwhelming stench of decay and death. The room was roughly 20 meters square and was clearly of dwarven architecture, though it had been corrupted by the presence of evil magic. In the center of the room stood a large, stone table covered in all manner of necromantic equipment. There were cages lining the walls, some containing the remains of creatures long dead, while others still held the corpses of fresher victims.

As G's eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, he could see that the equipment on the tables was equally as disturbing. There were sharp instruments, such as knives, saws, and hooks, as well as a variety of tools that he couldn't identify. He could see that the room had been used for experimenting on both living and dead creatures, and the evidence of its gruesome past was all around him. The sound of dripping water echoed throughout the chamber, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

In the far corner of the room, he could make out a figure standing at a tall table, completely absorbed in a book.

Tocai analyzed the creature.

Name: Malusnight Wight

Level: 8

Hit Points: 120

Mana Total: 60

Description:

A Malusnight Wight is a dark, sinister creature that is 2 meters tall and weighs approximately 80 kilograms. Its body is gaunt and skeletal, with mottled, grayish skin stretched tightly over its bones. Its face is gaunt and skull-like, with hollow, empty eye sockets and a gaping, toothless maw. Wispy, ethereal tendrils of shadow and mist swirl around the creature, making it difficult to focus on its form.

Special Attacks:

A Malusnight Wight has several potent attacks that make it a formidable foe. It can summon waves of necrotic energy that drain the life force of its enemies, adding it to its own health. It can also raise the dead, summoning skeletal minions to fight at its side. It also has a Paralyzing gaze which can paralyze a creature for 1 minute. The target can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success.

The Malusnight Wight was clad in tattered, black robes that seemed to flow and writhe like smoke. Its bony fingers were adorned with ancient, tarnished rings that glinted menacingly in the dim light of the chamber. In one hand, it held a book bound in an unknown leather and inked in blood, surely filled with unspeakable spells and dark magic. Its presence filled the room with an aura of dark energy.

G tried to keep his distance from the Wight, knowing that it was one of the most powerful undead creatures he had ever faced. He looked closer at the instruments on the tables around the room and saw that some had small, intricate carvings as if they had been used for magical purposes. Others were coated in blood and rust, clearly having been used for more gruesome experiments.

He steeled himself for the fight ahead, knowing that he had to stop the Malusnight Wight and put an end to the evil that had been done in this room. As he pushed the door open, hoping his silence spell would hide any noise it might make, his face was a grimace of anger so intense he had never felt this way. Everything in that room profaned nature, profaned all elves, and profaned him!

Tocai projected in a hurried mental voice, "G, you don't have to fight that thing. We can go back down the stairs and find another way up."

"Yes, yes I do," G thought back.

G crept silently through the darkened chamber, the hood of his robes concealing his familiar as he moved towards the Malusnight Wight. The room was filled with the stench of death and decay, and his rage boiled within him as he saw the Wight poring over its necromantic tome.

As he reached the Wight, G focused his energy and cast his Whip of Thorns spell. The vines coiled around his arm, forming a deadly whip that crackled with energy. He struck with all his might, catching the creature off guard and dealing a slicing blow that momentarily entangled it. He motioned with his other hand as a mana bolt formed and shot point-blank between the creature's shoulders, hitting its spine. He saw the creature's health drop to seventy percent. The Wight released a high-pitched wail in anger and turned to face G, summoning ethereal tendrils that lashed out blindly in retaliation.

G easily dodged the Wight's attack, his agility allowing him to move quickly and avoid its strike. He yanked on the Whip of Thorns, which was still half wrapped around the creature, spinning away as he cast Nature's Roots on the creature. The Wight stumbled to the side as one of the ethereal tendrils brushed G's side. His chest lanced with pain as he felt life being drawn from him through the tendril to the Malusnight Wight, increasing its health. G jumped backward, casting another spell as the Wight's body bent sideways, giving a horrifying snap of bones as it bent backward and then stood up in the most alien and unnatural movement G had ever seen.

G pulled away from the tendril as it tried to lash out again, and several others rose up behind the Wight as it regained balance. G cast Briar Patch centered behind the creature so that the edge was near but not engulfing him. The Wight thrashed dark tendrils at the brambles as they rose from the ground and tabletops, half hiding the creature from G's view as it screeched again.

G lashed out with the Whip of Thorns; this time, like with the skeletons, he snapped it to drive the creature back a couple of meters before it righted itself. The Wight took damage with every movement. A great deal more damage than the skeletons had taken, but it had three times their hit points, and the loss to health, although steady, wasn't significant as it fell to half health.

G's Whip of Thorns spell expired. The Wight was a formidable opponent, however, and it fought back with equal ferocity. It looked at G, and a sudden burst of necrotic magic engulfed him as the Wight held his gaze through a gap the many brambles.

You have failed a saving throw. You are paralyzed for 1 minute.

G tried to move, but he couldn't even wiggle a finger. He tried to scream, anything to break out of this spell. He could do this, G knew he could, he just had to try harder. His anger had turned to optimism as the Malusnight Wight slowly made its way forward through the brambles. A tendril reached out and touched G for a moment. He could see his health now was at 22 HPs, and just touching him twice had taken him below half-health.

G focused his energy once again, calling upon the power of nature to aid him. Nothing happened, he knew he could do this, but his eyes felt dry and were starting to distract his mind as he tried to blink but couldn't. He needed to free his mind, but the timer on the paralysis was still at 43 seconds—a lifetime in combat.

What was he thinking, trying to take on a Wight that was so powerful? He couldn't defeat that kind of evil. The Cursed Ring of Optimism pulsed on his finger, he felt it squeeze. G concentrated on the ring and the curse, focusing mana into the ring. This was the key. What did the High Priestess do? She helped people with issues related to their minds. The ring was the key. A Mana Bolt fired from his robe's hood into the face of the Wight, driving it backward a couple of yards back into the briars. Tocai was trying to help him. The key was the ring. G focused on the Ring of Perpetual Optimism, pushing more mana into it, and suddenly he stood somewhere else.

He could still see the Wight regaining its footing and again slowly pushing forward. He heard Tocai say he couldn't cast another Bolt, but it was somewhere far away. His awareness was in a temple, in a room. He saw a blue woman wearing a light blue robe. It was the same robe G now wore, and on her hand was the ring as it glowed. She sat on a divan with a man lying down beside her with his head in her lap, and she stroked his forehead with her right hand as the ring pulsed with each stroke. G saw her manipulating the ring with mana, building a wall around memories of the man's lost wife and child. G didn't know how he knew this, but he knew it. The man was weeping as she manipulated his mind to help him come to terms with his loss while shielding him from the emotion and pain that troubled him. She looked up then at G, who wasn't there, and smiled. G saw the energy of emotion leave the man; she was feeding on the man's emotions while helping him with them. She was a parasite that had learned to channel it to help others. Then he knew what he needed to do, and the view snapped back.

Once again, G stood there as the Wight was almost at the edge of the briars and another tendril of dark energy moved forward from the Wight. G had 117 mana left, and he channeled 30 of it into the ring, willing it to take away the pain of paralysis. The ring wiggled in his mind, and his ring finger burned as the ring glowed and scorched his skin. Then, he was free. He rolled backward as the tendril shot over his body, and he sprang to his feet.

G cast another Mana Bolt into the Wight as it exited the briars. It didn't fall back this time, but its health was well into the red. He summoned another Whip of Thorns and ducked to the side as two more tendrils shot through the space he had just occupied. He flicked the Whip forward, aiming at the legs of the creature. It wrapped around its calves, and he pulled hard as he rolled away again, heaving on the magic vine as it spun the creature with its long biting thorns.

G stayed low and swung the whip back again as the Wight toppled sideways. He didn't pause there; his mace was in his right hand, and he leaped the two meters in a bound as the vine wrapped forward, his mace hammering into the head of the Malusnight Wight with a wet thunk. Its health bar went red, and he yanked on the whip as his momentum carried him forward, jerking himself to a halt before entering the briars himself. He turned around to see the Wight was not moving, and no health bar existed over its head.

He still felt anger at the creature and raised his mace to strike again. The ring pulsed, and G paused. His whip spell disappeared as he stared at the cursed ring on his finger.

Prompt icons appeared along the edge of his vision.