Visiting X-002 II

During the fight, my main form explored the inner city temples. I didn’t learn any names, but I was still able to find out plenty about their deities.

One temple had an enormous scale, a display with hundreds of varieties of coin, and sculptures of horses. Another featured many varieties of shields, a castle fortification, and the clergy wore helmets. One temple was an indoor garden!

One last temple stood out. It was easily the smallest, but more richly ornamented than some of the larger temples. A heavy ambience hung about it. It wasn’t accessible from the street; it was in the center of a well-kept but empty park. It’s clear that no one wants much to do with this one.

Inside, there were many tablets. The altar was a block of polished black stone. The interior was made of the same stone. The walls were single sheets of rock; they were not built from blocks. There was no place for a congregation. Other than the short central aisle, the floor and ceiling were covered in small pyramids. A pedestal extended from the floor behind the altar, in the shape of a long clawed arm, clutching an orb.

As I approached the orb, I felt a familiar sensation: the feeling of looking directly at a summoned creature. And another: that I’m unwelcome here.

*

I exited that unpleasant temple. The lush park grasses and blue sky overhead were a welcome sight. I fly up to get an overhead view of the city.

A mote hurriedly leaves the main road near the ominous temple. Do people really visit that place? It crosses the field and reaches the temple proper. I rush to reach the door after it passes through.

A cloaked man produces a mallet and begins hammering everything in sight! The tablets, the pyramids, even the altar! But he doesn’t so much as scratch or chip them. Winded, and maybe experiencing a bit of catharsis, he stops to catch his breath. The temple begins to rumble.

The man takes offense to this and turns his gaze toward the orb. The rumbling intensifies, making him lose his footing. He stubbornly crawls toward the orb, hammer in tow, and the rumbling grows with every step. It’s at the level of a catastrophic earthquake at this point.

I won’t let this go on. I lift him off the shaking floor with strong wind, and spirit him out of the temple. The temple continues rumbling as take him somewhere more hidden. Only after I set him down did I see his face. This is the man from earlier, Decker Woodcut!

*

I’d like to speak to him, like I spoke to Old Man. There has got to be a way to do that…

Spawning Herald

“Decker.” He is unresponsive. “Decker!”

“Who’s there? Am I dead?”

“You live. Recite your story to me.”

“That temple… the master of that temple, The Accursed! He has destroyed my life!” He takes some moments to get his thoughts together. “I was a devotee. I had no choice in the matter, I was an orphan, and orphans who have the Gift become devotees. This town exists only at his pleasure. We must offer mana to the orb, or he will destroy us.”

“Are you a devotee no more?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Yes, I ran away. I couldn’t bear the visions I saw when touching the orb. I could feel something watching me at night. The townsfolk would cross the street at the sight of us in our robes! That temple exists only grudgingly, kept at a distance. People won’t even speak of it.

“I have been making my living as an adventurer, but I can’t work alone. I must work with a party. The guild found out that I was a devotee of The Accursed, and now no one will work with me. Just today, I joined a party, and they tried to kill me…”

That wasn’t an adventuring party, Decker. They never intended to do anything but kill you.

A sudden black flash strikes Decker from above, and he doubles over in pain. I try to focus on it. A panel appears before me.

X-002 > Fate Web > … > Curses

A list of curses fills the panel, not as long as that of the tree spirit, but excessive nonetheless. And look whose calling card we have here: E-1. It’s not much of a leap to conclude that he is “The Accursed”, and this is his punishment for an escaped devotee.

I dispelled Decker’s curses and could see his pain abating through the panel. Many of his curses were sapping his mana. He has an impressive ability to store and gather mana for a human; it's almost that of a mediocre elf!

“Decker. I will transport you. Do not resist.”

Dismissing Herald

Mana spent: XX

*

This young man, Decker, will not be safe in this town. Maybe not anywhere. But there is one place he might belong: the forest.

I sweep him up with strong winds and fly us both to the forest. Some distance after passing the treeline, I sense I have crossed a barrier.

“Visitor, you have returned,” the great tree spirit speaks to me.

“I bring a friend in need.” Did I just speak? Is this two-way now?

“You are always welcome here.”

I land us in the clearing, where many of the armed humanoids from before are gathered. Decker uncurls from a ball, and his face is taken by shock. He begins shouting.

Spawning Herald

“Decker!”

“You brought me to the forest?! This place is at war with a demon horde! I’ll die here!”

“Decker! At war among friends, or at peace among enemies?” He calms somewhat.

“I don’t even speak Elvish.”

“He is distraught,” the spirit notes.

“It is worse for him in the city. He is an enemy of The Accursed. Is there a place for him here?”

“He will have to learn Elvish,” the spirit chuckles.

*

A hardened elf warrior approaches Decker and proclaims: “I will teach you our ways.”

Decker replies, clumsily, “I am honored. Teach me.”

“You do know some Elvish! Good!” the elf shouts with amusement.

Dismissing Herald

Mana spent: X

“He is an escaped former devotee of The Accursed. I found him in his temple in the city, smashing it with a hammer,” I tell the great tree spirit.

“Ho ho! Then there is no doubt about his loyalties. We won’t incur any greater wrath by harboring him.”

I went on to inform the spirit about its curses, and the nature of its enemies.

“I felt a great weight lifted from us soon after you left us. These mana ghouls are much weaker than we thought. It was the curses that made us their prey.”

“I would bless you to better stand against them, but The Accursed has vowed to answer my every blessing with a dozen curses. It would end with you being worse off.”

“There is no need, visitor. A friend is blessing enough.”