Persepera
The 10th of Elaphebolion
The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals
Without the proper materials or necessary ventilation for a true campfire, the three happenstance adventurers gathered around the Everlit Lantern. Though the lantern provided no warmth in the cold depths, the darkness it banished was enough to keep their spirits steady.
Helwan, evidently stressed by the day’s events, had fallen fast asleep sprawled out on a bedroll. Lyssa and Arche sat against a wall, side by side. She poured both of them a bowl of hot soup, produced from a container in her inventory. Arche was thrilled to find that objects stored in the inventory kept their temperature in addition to not spoiling.
“What happens if you don’t store something directly in your inventory?”
“What do you mean?” Lyssa asked, scraping the bottom of her bowl with a spoon.
“The bag you gave me added more space to my inventory, but what if I were to physically pick something up and put it inside the bag. Would it automatically go to an inventory slot, or would it stay in the bag?”
“It stays in the bag.”
“Oh.” Arche ducked his head, feeling like an idiot.
The corners of Lyssa’s mouth twitched as she eyed him.
“In millennia past, legend has it that our inventory space was entirely physical. You had to carry everything with you. However, something changed in the time since and the world became more like we know it today.”
“You mean with the levels and everything else?”
“Yes. Some of our earliest stories indicate that there was no such metric. People had to demonstrate how skilled they were, they had to exercise to grow stronger with no clear idea of how much they had improved. Some blame the Titans for the shift, but I’m not so sure.”
Arche blinked.
“Wait, Titans? What are those?”
Lyssa shuddered. “I should not have spoken so flippantly. They are not a good topic for discussion, deep underground as we are. Old superstitions say that if you mention them too often, you gain their attention. The last thing we need right now is more trouble.”
“I’ll agree to that. It’s strange, though. So much of life and living seems familiar to me, despite everything, but the levels and the skills and the attributes, the whole system is completely foreign.”
Silence filled the space between them as they ate. Arche used the time to go over the skill gain notifications.
Acrobatics has increased to Level 7.
+3% Control of Movement (+21%)
+1% Jump Height (+7%)
+1 Dexterity
+1 Agility
Swordsmanship has increased to Level 13.
+2% Damage with Swords (+26%)
You have reached the rank of Novice Swordsman.
You gain 100 experience.
Archery has increased to Level 12.
+2% Damage with Ranged Weapons (+24%)
+2% Accuracy with Ranged Weapons (+24%)
+1% Range with Ranged Weapons (+12%)
Stealth has increased to Level 8.
+2% Chance to Hide (+16%)
+2% Sneak Attack Chance (+16%)
+1% Sneak Attack Damage (+8%)
You have learned a Skill.
Persuasion — Level 1
Your ideas are great, and now others will think so, too.
Each level in this skill improves your ability to talk others around to your viewpoint. Every 5 levels in this skill improves your Charisma by 1.
+1% Persuasion Chance (+1%)
A new skill, new rank in swordsmanship, and an improvement to his attributes. It had been a very productive, if very dangerous, day. Arche pulled open his profile to check his changes.
Arche
Level: 10
Experience to Next Level: 918 (8%)
Race: Human
Age: 27
Height: 185 centimeters
Weight: 80.5 kilograms
Profession: N/A
Trade: N/A
Traits: Slayer of the Mighty
Companions: Lyssanderyli
Adventuring Party: Helwan Panysk
You have 15 undistributed attribute points
Health: 315 / 315
100%
Stamina: 225 / 225
100%
Mana: 140 / 140
100%
Strength: 18
Dexterity: 18
Agility: 15
Fortitude: 15
Endurance: 15
Intelligence: 14
Wisdom: 13
Willpower: 13
Perception: 13
Charisma: 11
Comeliness: 1
Luck: 10
Fifteen points to distribute, thanks to one near-death experience. Arche’s thoughts flicked back to the last three fights. He had attempted to use his bow twice to limited success but had been forced to rely on his sword every time. His physical traits were improving but he was still outclassed by everything he came up against. That needed to change but the ‘how’ was giving him trouble. Strength was certain, Fortitude was just as necessary, but after that, what?
Three points went into Strength and Fortitude each. In the fight with the arachtaurs, he had managed to dodge the strike of their spears until the end, when he had been caught by the webbing. He’d only been able to do that because of his speed and reactions. Two points went into Agility.
Seven points left.
Lyssa’s warning about placing all his points in physical attributes came back to him, so he examined his mental stats. Each had their own allure, and he didn’t want to skip any of them, so he put one point each into Intelligence, Wisdom, Willpower, Perception, and Charisma. With two points left and no hard ideas on where to place them, his eyes were drawn to the two attributes he had thus far neglected: Comeliness and Luck.
Arche ran a finger along his face, feeling the raised scars that traced his cheeks and forehead. Comeliness was an attractive option for someone in his situation but it still felt like the wrong choice. He didn’t have a solid self-image and, after Lyssa’s words, he dreaded the idea of looking. Luck, similarly, was so ambiguous that he hardly felt he could justify spending points on it when the other attributes were very clear on how they would keep him alive.
With more than a little reluctance, Arche pulled himself away from the two attributes and placed his last two points placed into Intelligence and Charisma.
Health: 360 / 360
100%
Stamina: 240 / 240
100%
Mana: 160 / 160
100%
Strength: 21
Dexterity: 18
Agility: 17
Fortitude: 18
Endurance: 15
Intelligence: 16
Wisdom: 14
Willpower: 14
Perception: 14
Charisma: 13
Comeliness: 1
Luck: 10
There was a clear bias toward his physical attributes but he could focus more on mental if and when he learned magic. In the meantime, the physical would keep him alive. That would have to be enough.
Arche glanced at Lyssa, intending to ask her more about attributes and their effects, only to find she had fallen asleep, her empty bowl sitting on the ground next to her. The sight brought a smile to his face. It was the most peaceful he’d ever seen her. With the wave of a hand, he produced a blanket from his inventory and draped it over her. Not far away, Helwan kicked a leg in his sleep. It had been a risk, letting the satyr join them. He hoped it was the right choice. There was little point in worrying about it, the decision was made. As long as Helwan didn’t give them further reason not to trust him, Arche would follow Lord Cypress’s lead and not hold Helwan’s species against him.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The next few hours crept by until it was time to wake Lyssa for her watch. Arche was grateful for the chance to sleep. The day had taken its toll on him.
----------------------------------------
Arche woke to Lyssa shaking him by the shoulders. He was panting and covered in sweat, hand scrabbling at his right hip for a weapon that wasn’t there. The sounds of screams and explosions echoed in his ears.
“Arche, calm down.”
Battles of blade and fire swirled in his mind. It was several moments before he recognized where he was and who was around him. His body shook with adrenaline, with the need to fight. Helwan was also awake, standing several paces away and looking at him with more than a little apprehension. Arche gulped air, trying to soothe his frayed nerves. He readjusted the sword on his belt, the weight on his left hip bringing some small comfort.
“Sorry. Sorry, I’m all right. Just a bad dream.”
It had been more than just bad. He had been a faceless thing, unable to speak, unable to scream. He had clutched at somebody, a man in strange garb, trying to beg his help but couldn’t form the words. The man had recoiled from him, screaming, and run away. The air itself howled and shrieked in turn. People shouted over the anguished laments of the dying. Fire bloomed from people’s hands and others were torn apart, their blood mixing into the sand. Where his face should have been was only pain and his blood poured from it, joining the rest, only to be drunk by the ground below.
“Just a bad dream.”
Arche clenched his fists and stood, gathering his bedroll and blanket back into his inventory, more as an excuse to do something than anything else. Lyssa and Helwan watched him for a few moments longer, then turned back to their own tasks. He’d never dreamed anything like that before. His dreams had always been vague, nebulous, and faded quickly after waking. They’d never been so vivid, so terrifyingly real.
Arche tried to banish it from his mind. He needed to focus on the task at hand. They were hunting the source of some evil and there was likely danger ahead. This place had already nearly killed him once. He had to be on his guard.
“Do we have any idea what to expect next?” he asked. “My knowledge of arachtaurs is limited. Will there be more?”
“Arachtaurs,” Helwan said with the steady voice of a seasoned lecturer, “are not as prolific as their tiny, eight-legged ancestors. They live in modified familial units, often underground or in areas with very little light due to the photosensitivity of their eyes. If there are others, I don’t think it would be more than what you two have already faced. They are fiercely territorial and often the siblings will kill and eat their parents as a rite of passage into adulthood.”
Arche raised an eyebrow and looked at Lyssa, who nodded and shrugged in a manner that said, ‘more or less.’
“Right,” he said. “What about that artifact? Did your ancient dwarven poem give any idea what it could be?”
Helwan stroked his goatee with one hand while his other hand found the end of his horse-like tail and swished it in slow circles.
“I spent weeks pouring over it, but dwarves are notoriously complex and clever. They don’t like to share their treasure and any reference to something of value is hidden behind layers of code and reference.”
“Yes or no, Helwan.”
“Given your experience with my former compatriots, I am willing to wager it is an artifact of necromancy filling the air and, therefore, ambient Mana with powerful necromantic energies.”
Now it was Arche’s turn to stroke his chin.
“So you’re saying this artifact can bolster a necromancer’s abilities?”
“If it is indeed what I believe it to be, absolutely.”
“And what was your experience with necromancy, again?”
“I, erm, well, my interest was of a purely academic variety, I assure you.”
“Have you ever brought anything back from the dead?”
Helwan brought himself up proudly.
“I’ll have you know I successfully reanimated a drosophila once, under controlled circumstances.”
“A what?”
“A fruit fly.”
“Anything else?”
“I, erm, blacked out shortly afterward.” Helwan’s pride vanished as quickly as it appeared.
“Great. What exactly can you do in terms of magic?”
“I–”
Steel scraped against stone and culminated in a wet plopping noise. Arche and Helwan whirled about to find Lyssa in the process of decapitating the dead arachtaurs with her sword. When she was done dismembering the corpses, she rejoined them.
“Just fixing a problem before it reanimates.”
“Good thinking,” Arche said, eyes fixed on the black, bloody ichor seeping out of an arachtaur’s neck stump. “Well, I think that does it for my appetite. We ready to get moving?”
They set off down the only passageway left available to them. Arche took the Everlit Lantern and fastened it to his chest so he wouldn’t have to waste a hand to hold it. The lantern had a dial on the top which, when twisted, lowered a hood to conceal the light, a function Arche regarded as ingenious, and he resolved to get one at his earliest convenience.
It wasn’t long before they came to a fork in the passage. Arche and Lyssa stopped, trying to determine which way to go, but it was Helwan who made the choice for them.
“It’s that way,” Helwan said, pointing to the left. “I can feel the Mana it’s emitting.”
“How close are we?” Lyssa asked.
“Hard to say. A few hundred meters, more or less.”
Arche gave Lyssa a tired look.
“Not too far,” she clarified, eliciting a puzzled look from Helwan.
“Let’s keep going. Be on your guards.” Arche set off before the satyr could ask questions.
Helwan walked in the middle, giving directions whenever they came to a junction, and Lyssa brought up their rear to keep an eye on the satyr and ensure they weren’t attacked from behind. Despite the traps they had encountered on the outskirts of the underground facility, Arche hadn’t found any since they had fought the arachtaurs. It made some sense, as the dwarves probably wouldn’t want traps covering the areas they lived and moved in, but it also made him paranoid that they were barely avoiding dangers they didn’t know were there.
At the last split in the corridor, Helwan pointed towards a large, metal door at the end of the hall.
“It’s in there. Can you two really not feel it?”
Arche paused, trying to sense anything that seemed out of the ordinary. He got nothing more than the musty scent of still air and damp ground.
“Nope. Let’s go.”
As they approached the door, Arche could see that it had been intricately designed. Three symbols adorned the door, each interconnected in a pattern that almost seemed to flow, despite the cool metal. Front and center was a trident, the metal blue and green, resembling the sea. Above the trident was a lightning bolt, golden and white in a mist of intricacies that looked like clouds. The final, below the trident, was a bident aiming downward and colored red and black. There was also a mist of intricacies, but instead of clouds these looked like pools of blood. Across the door was some form of runic script.
“A puzzle door?” Arche said aloud, not entirely sure of the concept.
“In ancient dwarvish,” Helwan said excitedly. “Oh, this is wonderful! I must examine this fully, copy the words! I’ll need a rubbing of these symbols, too. I’ve never seen anything like this!”
Arche grabbed the back of Helwan’s collar as the satyr stepped forward.
“Careful. A big door protecting a powerful magical artifact? I don’t think you should touch it until we figure out how to open it.”
Helwan’s eyes grew wide and he swallowed hard.
“Quite wise, Master Arche. Quite wise indeed. Yes, I think I can see well enough from here.”
“Can you translate?” Lyssa asked.
“I believe so. It might take some time, but yes, I think I can.”
“Good. Do it now. Arche, set down the lantern and come over here.”
Something in her tone delayed any argument. Arche unfastened the Everlit Lantern and joined her, sword in hand.
“We’re being tracked,” Lyssa said quietly. “I can hear them, echoing through the stone.”
Arche glanced at her long ears, wondering briefly just how good her hearing was that she was able to pick out the noises before Helwan’s horse-like ears could. He immediately shoved those thoughts away as unimportant and nodded at her.
“Do you know what it is?”
Lyssa shook her head. “No. The echo is distorting it. I think it’s bipedal, just one creature, but I could be wrong. Not more than three unless they’re walking in unison.”
“So not an arachtaur, then.”
“Likely not, no.”
Arche examined their hallway. They were at one end with the puzzle door, five paces away from the probable death trap. Another fifteen paces was the turn-off point where they had entered into the passage, and another forty beyond that was the other end of the hall, which turned sharply out of sight. The passage itself was two paces wide, enough for Lyssa and him to stand comfortably next to each other, though fighting would be difficult without an overreliance on stabbing attacks.
“It’s just one thing after another in this place, isn’t it?”
Lyssa said nothing as she drew an arrow and nocked it to her bow. She left it slack and let out a slow breath. Arche stretched, warming up his arms and legs.
“How long do we have?”
“Five minutes, perhaps?”
“Helwan, how long is this going to take?”
“I don’t know!”
“Just work quickly. We’re on a deadline.”
Helwan glanced back at them, seeing them both preparing for a fight.
“What’s going on?”
“Focus, Helwan! Get us through that door,” Lyssa ordered.
The satyr went back to furiously scribbling notes onto a scrap of parchment. Arche looked through his inventory for anything that could be used as a trap. Most of the contents were food or camping supplies. His bow was there, along with his quivers of arrows, but nothing else.
“You don’t have any oil, do you? Caltrops? Ball bearings?”
“No,” Lyssa said. “Nothing like that.”
“Damn. I’m out of ideas, then. Looks like we’ll have to fight on even footing.”
“Your mind is keen for strategy.”
Arche snorted. “Hardly. Not that it’s doing us any favors right now, anyway.”
“I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry for having judged you when we met. You’ve proven yourself a trustworthy friend, and an ally to my people. For that, I thank you.”
Arche frowned and glanced sidelong at Lyssa.
“Why are you talking like we’re about to die?”
Lyssa let out a shaky breath and met his eyes. He saw the twisting of fear in her face and it chilled him to his core.
“Because I have identified the creature that hunts us. A revenant.”
Arche waited, but when no further information was forthcoming, he gave a small cough. Lyssa took the hint.
“A powerful creature of undeath. My people know them as the Persistent because they never sway in their conviction to a task. I know of no way to kill one. They can shrug off mortal blows, regenerate themselves over time. Even if we manage to defeat it now, it will continue to come for us.”
Arche said nothing, only watched her. She looked away from him, casting her eyes instead to the floor. Her knuckles were bright as she gripped her bow, hands shaking ever so slightly.
“Well, aren’t you a bucket of sunshine today?”
Lyssa did not answer.
“Look, if we’re going to go down, let’s go down swinging. I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to die just yet. Helwan! How’s that door coming?”
“I’ve translated some of it. It makes references to ancient powerful creatures, a whole family of them by the look of it, denoted by these symbols. I don’t know yet to what end.”
“Keep working.” Arche put a hand on Lyssa’s shoulder, forcing her to look at him. “We are not dying today.”
She gave a soft smile that did not reach her eyes. “I hope you’re right. Because it’s almost here.”
Arche looked down the hall and strained to listen. Finally, he heard what she was talking about. Over the scratching of Helwan’s quill there was the echo of shuffling feet and low groaning. Arche picked up his xiphos and waited for the monster to appear.
He didn’t have to wait long. It resembled a man, if an emaciated one. Its clothing was old and torn in places, though it must have once been incredibly expensive. The revenant had gray, marbled skin that stretched tightly across bones with very little muscle. Its hair was snow white and wispy, framing glowing, blood-red eyes. The revenant’s teeth, which it bared, were long and pointed, like fangs. Arche had some vague idea of what a dwarf looked like, but this creature resembled a corrupted elf more than any other creature, with its long, gaunt ears and angular features.
“Time to dance,” Arche muttered, stepping forward so Lyssa would have the space to fire her bow.
Despite his bravado, he could feel the familiar thumping of his heart in his chest, but it wasn’t nearly as horrifying as some of the other creatures he’d fought. That Lyssa was scared of this thing meant that he should be terrified, but after his near-death at the hands of the arachtaurs, it felt like just another monster.
When anything can kill you, the ones that can do it well aren’t especially scary.
The revenant ambled forward, picking up speed with every step. An inhuman roar burst from its throat as it spread its arms wide, giving a good view of its abnormally long fingernails. Arche matched its roar with one of his own and waited for Lyssa to shoot twice before he charged to meet it. Lyssa’s arrows plunged into the revenant’s torso, but the creature didn’t even flinch.
Arche closed on the revenant, then jumped to the side as it swiped at him. The speed at which the shambling creature moved was surprising, but Arche was quicker. He kicked off the wall and swung his sword at the revenant’s exposed arm. The blade cut skin but turned away at the creature’s bones. Arche rolled to the side to avoid another swipe, which put the creature between him and his allies. It turned with him and Lyssa’s arrows sank into its back but to no avail. The few times she had aimed at its head, the arrows only scattered off.
“Its bones are too hard. We can’t break them!”
Arche worked his sword defensively, deflecting the creature’s swipes, always wary for it to lash out with its head to try and bite him with its large fangs. Instead, the creature kept trying to grasp him by the throat. Arche moved to the side and grabbed the arm with his free hand, then he twisted his body and threw the revenant over his shoulder onto the ground. If the undead creature could feel surprised, he was sure it would have been gaping at him, but instead it just started reaching upward for him with its other arm. Arche let go and dragged the blade of his sword across the revenant’s throat, not that the action did anything more than make him feel better.
Arche backed away toward Lyssa and Helwan as the revenant climbed to its feet. A prompt had begun flashing in the corner of his vision, which he ignored.
“Helwan!” Arche growled.
“I’ve almost got it. The symbols all relate to kings of an ancient family. The riddle refers to the one that rules Tartarus!”
“Well, which one is it?”
“I don’t know! Tartarus doesn’t have one ruler! There’s a lot of kingdoms!”
Arche parried one of the revenant’s arms away with his sword but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the other arm. Lyssa’s blade redirected the limb high as she joined him in the fray.
“Figure it out, Helwan!”
Arche backed off as Lyssa took his place, using her dual swords to deflect both of the revenant’s swiping claws. He looked back to Helwan, who was gripping his horns and staring at the door.
“I–I don’t…”
“Shut it! You’re a mage, right? Go help Lyssa!”
Helwan stumbled backward as Arche sheathed his sword and looked at the door. It stood as imposing and stoic as ever. A lightning bolt, a trident, and a bident. Each symbol as infuriating as the last. Arche glanced back at the others. Lyssa had been knocked down by the force of the revenant’s blows; it was towering over her, ready to deliver a killing blow. Helwan finished the final words of an incantation and a beam of light shot from his hands, causing the revenant to stagger backwards and fall to one knee. Twisting vines grew from the floor, entangling the revenant’s limbs to hold it down. Arche heard a loud snap as one of the vines tore in half. The revenant was rising to its feet, its movement barely slowed.
Arche turned back to the door, thinking quickly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, some buried instinct whispered an answer, too nebulous for words. Too nebulous, in fact, to wonder where the thought even came from. Still, it wasn’t like he had a better idea. Arche lifted his hand and pressed the lowermost symbol, the one of a bident. The door grinded over the stone as it opened.
“Come on!”
Helwan was the first to turn and sprint through the door, grabbing the Everlit Lantern off the ground as he passed. Lyssa wasn’t far behind, but the revenant was back on both feet and heading toward them. It was quick now, much quicker than it had been at the start of the fight. Arche watched with mounting horror.
Lyssa wasn’t going to make it.
Her eyes were wide with terror. Green blood dripped down one of her legs from a wound as she limped for all she was worth. The revenant gained on her with every step, claws outstretched, seeking to rend her flesh into pulp.
Blood pounded in Arche’s ears. The fear on her face broke something deep in him. He moved forward, dashing toward Lyssa and the monster. He passed her, saw her turn her head and try to stop as the revenant turned its focus to Arche, but she twisted on her injured leg and her momentum carried her forward into the room as she fell. The revenant swung at him but Arche felt no fear. Something surged deep within his chest. Strength and warmth flooded outward from his center, seeping into every part of his body.
Stone, wind, fire, victory, and something else.
The world flickered around him. He was everything and nothing. He was the world and all that moved within it. He was life and he was death. He was power and rage and the strength to shatter every cursed thing.
Ruby light flooded the dark hall. Arche’s left hand rose and caught the revenant by the wrist, stopping its swipe mid-motion. His other hand curled into a fist and he struck the revenant’s chest. Something passed between them. An invisible force extended from his center, through his fist, and into the revenant. The revenant was launched backwards, sliding along the stone floor all the way to the far end of the passage.
Arche wasted no time in turning and running toward the door, where Lyssa and Helwan were holding it open for him. He sprinted toward them, his movements extraordinarily quick. Midstride, he felt a rush of vertigo and all his strength leeched out of his body.
He made it the last few steps past the doorway, then he hit the ground and knew no more.