Hermera
The 22nd of Elaphebolion
The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals
The next three hours were a grueling march through the forest. Tess had hauled him a considerable distance away from the village, likely so that Lyssa wouldn’t be able to find them. Their going was also slowed by her wounds, which drained her Stamina at a prodigious rate and forced them to make frequent stops to let it regenerate. It gave Arche plenty of opportunities to use his Divine Body skill and work off his Envenomed condition. He was certain that Tess had noticed the light despite his best efforts but she said nothing about it. As night fell, their pace slowed even further as they had to pick their way among the roots and bushes.
Arche took the last wolf steak out of his inventory and handed it to Tess. She took it gratefully, passing him a waterskin in return before tearing into the steak. Other than the waterskin, Tess had no rations. She hadn’t expected to be gone for more than a few hours. The need for more water kept them moving past nightfall. Arche was confident in his ability to find creatures to hunt if it came to that, but without water they wouldn’t last long, especially when the sun came back up.
Tess’s wounds improved as they went. Her regeneration was slowed by the travel, but she was no longer in serious danger of losing her footing from pain or weakness. Instead, the only danger underfoot was the poor lighting and hidden roots. Arche was going to suggest they stop for the night and make shelter when a loud, screeching cry had him diving to the ground, bow half drawn as he tried to pinpoint the danger. Tess also fell to the ground, more out of surprise and pain than from an attempt to remain hidden.
Arche looked around wildly, but nothing jumped out to attack them. The cry came again, more raucous this time, and Arche realized it wasn’t as close as it had seemed. There was something familiar about the cry, but he couldn’t place it.
“Stay here.”
She gripped her dagger in her hand and crawled her way into the shadow of a large tree.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m not going anywhere,” she grunted, one hand clutching at her side.
Arche crept forward, staying low to the ground. He kept an arrow knocked to his bow as he did his best to meld silently into the forest as Lyssa would have. Straining his ears, he heard noises. Voices and screeches, some sounding humanoid and others that sounded like they couldn’t possibly be made by normal throats.
“Beastmar,” he breathed.
Arche continued forward until he saw them. Four beastmar gathered near a gaping cave entrance in the side of a hill. In the dim light, Arche couldn’t tell whether it was a natural cave or an opening to some deeper dwelling.
Stealth has increased to Level 9.
+2% Chance to Hide (+18%)
+2% Sneak Attack Chance (+18%)
+1% Sneak Attack Damage (+9%)
Arche felt a trickle of relief. If his Stealth had leveled, then his presence was probably undetected. Beastmar milled about around the cave entrance. There was no fire to see by and very little light filtered through the trees, indicating that the beastmar possessed some sort of night vision. He Examined each of them in turn, finding that all were between levels eleven and fourteen.
Examine has increased to Level 5.
+2% Examine Speed (+10%)
+1 Perception
The beastmar seemed about the same strength as the ones that had attacked the village before, but without armor or proper melee weapons, Arche was in no position to pick a fight. Especially since he didn’t know how many more were hiding in the hill. One of the creatures used an arm that forked at the elbow into a set of two hands to smack another that had three legs that all bent backwards.
“Quiet!” the oddly armed beastmar said in broken common speech. “You keep watch.”
The tri-legged beastmar made a chittering noise that sounded distinctly avian but spoke the common tongue much better.
“Pah! Nothing in these woods to keep eyes on! You ask me, we should head back and put the hurt on that settlement. Maybe grab some more people. Been too long since I’ve had manflesh, and there were all sorts there as well!”
Arche held very still, his hand clenched around the bow.
“Lose more tribe? They have warriors. Trust the chief. His plan good.”
The beastmar’s voices lowered and Arche could no longer make them out. He carefully backpedaled until he felt he was out of earshot, then made his way quickly back to Tess.
You have received a Quest.
Forest Abominations
You have stumbled upon a beastmar camp. They have mentioned a plan set in place to destroy the village of Buton. Stymie their efforts and remove their influence from the valley.
Objectives
· Figure out the beastmar’s plan
· Foil the beastmar’s plan
· Slay beastmar 0/50 (Optional)
Rewards
· Experience (Variable)
· Removal of beastmar influence from the valley
· Increased relation with the village of Buton
Time Remaining: Unknown
Arche dismissed the quest notification, feeling rather unsettled by the last line. He wished he had a map of the area but doubted such a thing existed in any great detail. He found Tess in the shadow of a tree where he had left her.
“We need to move,” he hissed, still loath to raise his voice with enemies so close.
“What’s going on?” she asked, rising unsteadily to her feet.
“Beastmar. We need to get back and warn the others. They’re up to something. I got a quest to stop them.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Then let’s not waste any more time.”
Arche ducked beneath her arm as she leaned her weight onto him. They managed to go another hour before Tess needed to stop for air.
“You should know,” she said between breaths. “Even if you get the people to turn against Callias, he won’t stop trying to tear you down. You’re a threat to him, what you did for the village. He doesn’t like that he can’t control you. If you move against him openly, he’ll move against you openly. And if you beat him, he’ll kill you for it.”
“I know. I’m working on it.”
Another twenty minutes of pained walking and the trees began to thin. They broke through the treeline and stepped out onto the rolling hills of the valley, the lights of the village burning in the distance. Another half hour of walking and they were at the village. Most had already gone to bed, but a few still tended the fires and kept an eye on things. As they approached, an arrow thudded into the ground at their feet.
“Ah, shit,” Arche muttered, staring at the green fletching.
Lyssa appeared two dozen strides away, bow drawn and leveled at Tess’s heart.
“Lyssa, it’s okay,” Arche said placatingly.
“I felt you nearly die, Arche. I couldn’t find you.” Lyssa’s voice was as hard and cold as steel.
Arche felt a chill shoot down his back. Even if he wasn’t the target of her ire, the chill fury of the huntress was terrifying.
“Sorry about that, really. Things were out of hand for a little while, but Tess isn’t our enemy right now. In fact, she can help us with our problem, but she needs medical attention.”
Lyssa hesitated, bow still tightly drawn, then she loosened the tension and slung it across her back.
“Very well. Bring her. I will bind her wounds.”
Persuasion has increased to Level 4.
+1% Persuasion Chance (+4%)
Arche helped Tess over to a table where the injured woman could rest. He turned back to Lyssa only to find her fist flying toward his face. The blow staggered him, dropping his Health an astounding twenty points. As he rocked back on his heels, completely dazed, Lyssa grabbed him by the shoulders and drew him into a tight hug.
“Don’t scare me like that,” she whispered.
Her voice sounded thin and stretched. It was more vulnerable than Arche had ever heard it. He fought the urge to rub his throbbing cheek and returned the hug.
“I’m sorry,” he managed. There was nothing else he could say.
Lyssa pulled away and cleared her throat. She nodded once at Arche, then turned toward Tess, who threw up her hands in a surrendering motion, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry, too.”
“You will be.” Lyssa’s voice had regained its steel. “Now, let’s see about your injuries. Arche, go clean up. We’ll talk later.”
“Yes, we will. I have news that concerns the village. I think it can wait until tomorrow but be on your guard. The beastmar are planning something.”
Tess shot Arche a worried glance, clearly uncomfortable being left alone with Lyssa, but Arche simply gave the woman a shrug and walked off to retrieve his equipment and take a dip in the river. It took him a while to find the right tent, going off drunken memory and the annoyed directions of a few freshly woken villagers, but eventually he was reunited with his gear.
The first thing he did after pulling on his backpack was retrieve a waterskin and drain it dry. His hangover may have been cured by the regenerative properties of leveling up, but he’d barely drunk a drop of water that day. The second thing he did was slip on his Ruby Ring of Lesser Life, feeling reassured as his Fortitude and Endurance each increased by five points. Double-checking that he had everything, he headed to the river for a much-needed bath.
The water was refreshing and the slightly overcast night gave him all the privacy he needed to strip down and wade into the river. He felt the grime and blood of the last two days wash itself away with the current as he splashed around. There was still a bit of unease that tickled his mind, reminding him of his two near-drowning events, but he did his best to push it to the back of his mind.
He wasn’t certain he’d ever be completely comfortable in water again but he couldn’t let such a fear dominate him for the rest of his life. He faced better chances of dying almost every day and his steady increases in the Swimming skill only improved his odds. Still, he stayed close to the bank and didn’t stray out farther than his feet could touch.
After feeling and smelling much better, Arche crawled out of the river, dried off, and equipped fresh clothes. He returned to the camp, crawled into his tent, and fell into a deep sleep.
----------------------------------------
The world was a husk of the one he knew. The ground Arche laid on was covered in ash and all life had long since choked and burned. The tattered remains of tents and tables were the only signs that a village had ever once tried to fill the smothered valley. A half dozen spewing volcanoes splashed an angry glow against the horizon, with the closest dominating the northern edge of the valley. Arche stood up, feeling the ash compress under his feet, the white powder clung to his skin and left dark stains as it drifted all about him.
“I’m dreaming.”
The words felt weird coming through his jaw, as though his muscles were strained by the usage and his throat was loath to work properly.
“Not quite.”
The voice was smooth and deep, as if it was often used to lull people to sleep. It sounded like a grandfather bidding a beloved grandchild to sleep well.
“You are in the Dreaming.”
This time the voice was high, like a mother cooing at her newborn, but maintained the same softness.
A figure appeared. It was formless and featureless, a humanoid body wrapped in strange black robes and wearing a smooth mask of night sky that completely hid whatever true face the figure had.
“Who are you?” Arche asked, not really expecting an answer but hoping to get one anyway.
“I am the Oneiroi,” the figure responded in a voice like an old crone. “And you are an anomaly.”
Arche didn’t really know how to respond to that, so he gestured about himself at the ash-covered valley.
“What happened here? What is this place? It looks like the valley, but like death has touched it.”
The Oneiroi let out a child’s giggle.
“Death is a vital component to Tartarus but they have not caused this. This was a part of an older design. Now it is a place for the fallen divine. By rights, you should not be here. Death spoke to me of you.”
“What?” Arche took a step back in surprise, remembering his earlier meeting with a strange figure in a place much like this. “That was actually Death? Death’s a person?”
The Oneiroi laughed again, a deep throaty sound not dissimilar to a dwarf.
“Death is a consciousness. An amalgamation of spirits absorbed into a single entity. The old alliances have fallen, betrayed by the last grasps for power in a dying existence. In many ways I am the same, many become one. But I am not here to explain the truths of this world to you.”
Arche felt his anxiety spike. “Then why are you here?”
The Oneiroi came closer. Arche tried to step back and found he couldn’t move. Out of reflex, he tried to Examine the Oneiroi, but nothing happened. He couldn’t see his vitals, which were usually always visible, if somewhat ignored. Like before, none of the strange parts of the world he had come to know seemed to work in whatever shadow world he was in now.
The Oneiroi stopped directly in front of him, close enough that Arche could see stars swirling in the piece of night sky that was used for a mask. The Oneiroi reached out with a hand swaddled in black cloth and gripped Arche by the forehead.
Arche expected pain, to feel some alien presence probing his mind or forcing its way past his mental boundaries. He felt none of these. Instead, the Oneiroi leveled their inscrutable gaze against him.
“I see,” the Oneiroi said at last, their voice the half-asleep murmuring of a small child. “You are lost. A stranger without purpose arrived through violence and deceit. You were granted power by one who would see it used, forced to become part of a game that is larger than you have the awareness to realize. I am…sorry.”
Arche frowned as the voice took on a mournful timbre.
“Sorry for what?”
“You have so very far to go and peace for any lasting period will always be beyond your grasp. Your soul has been marked by one of the Twelve and that fact will bring you great power, but it will also bring great pain.”
The Oneiroi released him and Arche stumbled backward.
“I cannot interfere on your behalf. Though the Twelve have no power over me, I would not risk their wrath. You have a long road ahead of you, but at the end of it you may find an opportunity that has not been granted to mortals in millennia, should you wish to take it. Take great care which path you profess to take; the Moirai weave many threads but not even they can interpret meaning.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arche said, desperation straining his voice. “Please, I don’t know what’s going on.”
The Oneiroi angled their head to the side.
“It is too soon. Someday you will, but you will not return to this place. Worry not, I will reassure my sibling of your condition.”
“You’re the only one who knows me. Please, can you tell me who I am? Will I ever be able to speak to you again?”
The Oneiroi shook their head.
“I cannot. There are truths that you are not ready to hear. We will speak again, but not for a long time yet, by your judgement. I must confer with the others. Though I will not appear to you, if you call out to me in the Dreaming, I will hear your message. Be strong, little spark. Burn well.”
Arche opened his mouth to ask another question, but the Oneiroi raised their hand and Arche fell backwards into darkness.