Davion's sword slipped from its scabbard with a quiet whisper of steel. Beneath the cover of darkness he crept along the tree line, being careful not to let the moon backlight him. Ahead, the barricade loomed. A massive orc in heavy armor patrolled back and forth in front of it, a heavy mace resting on his broad shoulders. Tall, slender figures stood on the barricade behind him. Normally they would be at ready, but on this quiet night they had congregated at one end and played a game with dice, shouting and cajoling with every roll. Davion quietly closed the distance, keeping low to the ground and moving in quick, even strides over the uneven terrain.
When he got close enough for it to really begin to matter, an eye materialized in front of him, transparent silver and closed. A raucous cry from the game diverted the orc's attention. Davion broke into a dead sprint. The eye opened partly, scanning back and forth beneath a lowered lid.
“Keep it down up there!” the orc snapped.
By then Davion was only a dozen yards away and closing quickly. The orc turned back to face the darkened road, the scanning eye icon popped wide open, flashing red.
“Detected!” the oracle's voice announced.
“We're under attack!” the orc bellowed.
Magic silver light flashed along Davion's sword. He sprang into the air, covered the last few yards with a single bound. He hit the orc square on the breastplate, driving the flashing sword into it's shoulder. Archers cried out. Boots scrambled across the barricade. The orc flung Davion free and swung his heavy mace, the spiked head passing only inches over Davion's head as he ducked out of the way. The first arrow zipped by, clattering across the ground.
“You will not enter this place!” The orc barreled toward Davion, pulling his mace back for a devastating overhead smash. Davion rolled out of the way, nearly earning an arrow in his chest for his trouble. Three of the archers had reached their stations by then. Distance from the orc meant a free and clear shot for his archery support. On the other hand being near the orc wasn't working much better. Davion's blade caught the orc's mace just beneath one of the spikes and the two became embroiled in a shoving match which quickly tipped in the orc's favor. Davion spun aside and sliced upward with his blade, slashing flesh and freeing the orc's left pauldron. The surprised orc covered his shoulder with a gauntleted hand, swapping the mace to his other hand. Davion sliced the mace in half with a deft, flashing strike of his sword.
Zip. Zip. Thok.
Arrows clattered around him, one finding a home in his side. His health bar stained deep green and began to drop precipitously.
Poisoned!
The orc tossed aside his ruined mace and ran for it. Overhead, Davion could hear bow strings drawing tight. He dodged aside, taking a halting, sprinting path to the base of the barricade and then launching himself up it. The first two archers fell quickly beneath his blade. The second threw aside his bow and came up with a shield and rough-hewn sword. Davion feinted as though he were about to strike the troll's rickety shield, but instead swung to the side, batting the unsuspecting opponent's sword aside and knocking him off balance. A quick slash across his thinly armored chest and the troll was out of commission. Davion hopped over the troll's limp form and bore down on the remaining defender. The archer loosed one last panicked arrow. Davion raised his sword high. The world fell away beneath him.
Heat washed over him as the barricade collapsed. Davion managed a few stumbling steps before tripping and rolling down the heaving pile of rubble and debris. As the dust cleared he found the wounded orc standing over him, brandishing a halberd with fire swimming waterlike around the bladed end. Davion sprang to his feet, parrying what would have been a life-ending blow. Power pulsed through the halberd, a concussive blast tossing Davion back. He struggled to his feet again and found the orc barreling toward him, his eyes red with blind rage.
A deep crimson Health Low warning blinked rapidly on the hovering UI. The world pulsed with a black haze, closing in around the edges of his vision like an engulfing shadow. He stood his ground, ducked beneath the blow at the last moment, felt the blade find his shoulder, then slashed upward with every ounce of strength he had left. The world tipped skyward, blackness sweeping in. Vertigo.
You have fallen unconscious.
He waited for death in the strange, sleeplike state of unconsciousness, then found his eyes opening to a starry night sky. As his character regained consciousness the UI slowly returned. The poison had worn through. The thin sliver of red in his health bar pulsed frantically in alarm.
Silverlight Sword Slash Critically Strikes Orc Barricade Master for 2034 damage. Orc Barricade Master dies. You earn 812 experience points!
“No way.” Davion stood too quickly, the action causing his badly wounded character to stagger. The world pulsed blurry for a few heartbeats and he found his footing again. His stamina crept up to a measly 3%. The orc lay dead on the road, the flames around his halberd dim and cold.
The halberd made a passable walking stick, which he used to limp across the invisible zone boundary and into the misty woods beyond.
A woman appeared, wreathed in swirling silver blue light and clad in flowing white robes. Davion gave her a weary smile.
“Welcome to Fornfallow, Forlorn Woods of Mist and Shadow, adventurer! You can bind yourself to this location. Do you wish to bind yourself to this location?”
“...and?” Davion prompted, feeling his spirits drop. The oracle stood silent.
“Is there knowledge you seek?” she asked eventually.
“No, never mind. Yes, please bind me here,” he said, crestfallen. The oracle's aura flowed around him for a moment and the binding was completed. At least he would not have to face the barricade again to get back to this place. The way was open for the next day or so. The orcs would eventually rebuild. A thought occurred.
“What were they going to so much trouble to protect?”
“The vadenmar orcs consider these woods a sacred place. Young orc and troll men are brought to these on the night of the full moon and are left here until the next full moon to prove they can survive the forest's horrors. They call this place Fornfallow, which means in their tongue 'the place of forlorn whispers'.”
“Do many of them survive...?”
The oracle nodded. “Though many do not.”
“and what, oracle, usually kills them?” Davion pressed.
The oracle closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “I am sorry, adventurer, this is the Lysholm Library's full depth of knowledge in regards to Fornfallow.”
“...thank you,” he said after a moment. The oracle bowed graciously and disappeared.
Davion was still tending to his wounds when a chat interface popped up.
Kharma whispers “any luck?”
You told Kharma “No, but I did find a zone that the oracle knew almost nothing about. It might be here? Hard to say.”
Kharma whispers “New Discovery?”
You told Kharma “No.”
Kharma whispers “Drat. Sorry man, you'll find it. I know you want that job. Hang in there. And... yknow... keep an eye out for herbs alright?”
You told Kharma “Sure.”
Determined to clear one more zone before calling it a night, Davion struck out into the heavily forested Fornfallow. Most of the creatures in this area were a little above his level, but skill counted for something. An hour of careful progress later and he found himself stopping in his tracks, listening to what at first seemed to be a slowly rising wind, a quiet whisper building into a long, sorrowful howl. Twice he was sure it was the wind but nothing rustled the trees and the air around him felt almost unnaturally still. Up, out of the forest came the creature, a ghostly wolf, transparent and galloping, accompanied by only the long, mournful howl. It raced along the road so swiftly that it nearly ran Davion down as he stood shocked, staring at it. He made it only 10 yards back the way he'd come.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The Forlorn Howl hits you for 11,290 damage. You have died.
Five minutes later the world coalesced around him again, though he was not back at the zone entrance as he had expected. Instead he had respawned in a graveyard, which the game had deemed closer than the bind point he'd set with the Oracle.
This was one of the simpler graveyards, a small clearing in the woods where the moon shone through. Mounds of fresh soil marked the graves. Swords planted in the ground bore orcish names. In the distance the Forlorn Howl let out its otherworldly wail once more. The trees grew thickest at one end of the graveyard, so close and compacted together that they were nearly impassible except for right through the center, where one of the largest trees had fallen and its hollowed out trunk served as a tunnel. Davion made a mental note to ask Kharma what species tended to make that kind of tunnel. She would probably know. The tunnel had the added benefit of being in the exact opposite direction of the high level monster that had so easily killed him.
On the other side of a veil of dangling ivy the tunnel was surprisingly clean and dry. Sconces on the wall held softly glowing crystals that brightened as the swordsman approached and faded behind him as he left. The tunnel opened up in a secluded forest much like the one he had left, but a strange smell lingered in the air. The Oracle appeared.
Her aura came together slowly, flickering faintly and lacking the familiar bright and glorious glow.
“There is... little time...” the Oracle gasped out. “You may not bind to this location. Something corrupts... go... find it... lest you perish.”
Perish Rules. If you die under perish rules you will be returned to a Temple of Angerhorn in a capital city after 24 hours.
New Discovery!
The discovery achievement rose slowly, lacking vitality. The golden borders tarnished and the usually bright text muted and lifeless.
The strange scent took on a sharp edge, shocking Davion. For a moment he stopped breathing, covering his face with a sleeve to push back the bitter smell of burnt almond. His health began to drop. Chains encircled the health bar, which had turned a sickly purple.
97%... 96%...
Davion charged down the path. Trees hemmed the path in thickly on either side, funneling the dying swordsman deep into the heart of the forest.
82%... 81%...
The path opened suddenly, ejecting Davion into an open circle. In the center a fountain stood proudly in the middle of a pool of glimmering water. A pair of white marble unicorns adorned the top, their horns touching in the flow. An old man sat on the pool's edge.
“What is this place?” Davion asked. “What would you have me do?”
The old man rose slowly and extended a hand, palm up, offering a rusted old key. “You are succumbing to the poisons of this place...” the old man said in a quiet voice. “You must tend to your health.”
“What do I do with this?”
65%... 64%...
The old man pointed further down the path. “The key may only be used once...”
“Thank you!” Davion yelped and sprinted down the path again as fast as he could go. Health ticked away. The path dove into a hillside, steps descending to a door. Unlocked. He went inside. A small cottage. A curse field stung him, dropping his precious HP an extra 5% instantly.
50%... 49%...
“Thisss place issss a lie...” a voice croaked from so close by that Davion jumped back, sword flashing as he drew it.
A sphinx slunk out of the corner, stretching her wings. Her body was wrapped in a tattered, faded dress. “My father... sent you?”
“The old man?”
“Yes... because of what I am, the curse barrier traps me here. In time I will starve and give in to the madness of this cursed form. It would be better if I were slain before that happens.”
“He gave me this,” Davion said, showing her the rusty key.
“He thinks I can be saved...” the sphinx said, her head hanging.
“...can you?” Davion asked. She looked up at him, sorrow in her eyes.
37%... 36%...
“Can you?” she asked.
“Antidote. I need an antidote or I will perish.”
32%...
“Soon,” he added.
The sphinx nodded somberly.
“How do I help you?”
The sphinx nosed at a chest Davion had overlooked until then. He knelt beside her and opened it up. Inside were two small cages. One contained a vial of dark liquid. The other, a glowing crystal orb.
“You cannot...” the sphinx said in her quiet voice.
21%... 20%...
Low Health!
“I... I don't...” and then it clicked. Davion struggled with the cage containing the potion. He tried to get the stopper between his fingers, planning to pour it in the sphinx's mouth before he seized the orb.
13%... 12%...
“Open your mouth!”
The sphinx gave him a doubtful look.
9%... 8%...
“Now!”
She complied.
He tore at the vial.
6%...
He shook the cage. Protective magic pulsed around the glass.
5%...
“Please?!”
4%...
More shaking. No use.
3%...
“Damnit!” Key. Lock. Turn.
2%...
He reached.
1%...
In a smooth motion he ripped the stopper out with his teeth and poured the vial down the sphinx's throat as he collapsed.
You have perished. Respawning at Temple of Angerholn in 23 hours, 59 minutes, 57 seconds...
The entire UI faded away except for the combat log, leaving the perished message and a transcription of the conversation with the sphinx lingered in a sea of darkness.
“Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!” Davion shouted into the void.
Kharma whispers, “Any odd herbs tonight? I'm working on a big potion order and I really want something to experiment with when I'm done.”
Davion cued up the voice chat. Since he was dead, a ghostly image of his character appeared in Kharma's lab without prompting. The centauress looked over at him in surprise. “Did y--”
“I saw it! I saw the orb!” he shouted. Kharma took a quick step back, her hooves clicking on the floor of her lab. “I was this close!”
“You... missed it?” she asked, frowning.
“I perished! I had it in my hand! Inches away!”
“But then... how?”
Davion shook his head. “I had a key. It had one use. I had to choose the orb or this antidote!”
“Antidote?”
“There was this girl. She was transformed into a sphinx and if I didn't give her the antidote it she wouldn't be able to get out of this house she was locked in and would go nuts or die. So I gave her the antidote.” He took a deep breath and recounted the whole story, finding the zone, the poison, the unicorn fountain, the old man, and finally his decision to unlock the antidote.
“Davion that doesn't make any sense,” Kharma said, stamping a hoof. “If the old man had the key why didn't he just go in and give his daughter the antidote so she could leave?”
This piece of intelligence hit Davion like a heavy mace. “Because... because... Damn. It.”
“If you could cross the barrier...”
“Yeah I get it, the old man was a sphinx too. I screwed up their riddle. I should've realized she wasn't in any danger. Oh man I am such an idiot!”
Kharma smiled gently. “That time limit is pretty harsh. How long do you think you were in there? Three minutes?”
“Maybe.”
Suddenly Kharma vanished, the alchemy lab replaced by a clear and starry night sky. Davion was soaking wet, rivulets of water running down his face. Above him, fountain water splashed over the unicorn horns and down onto his head.
“He is alive again,” the old man announced. Davion rubbed the water from his eyes and staggered from the fountain.
Kharma whispers “What happened??”
The sphinx girl stood in her tattered dress, stretching her wings in the crisp night air. “I am free of the curse, thanks to you.”
“I don't understand. I thought I failed...?”
The old man placed his hand on Davion's shoulder. Or at least, he seemed to. In reality a heavy paw landed on his shoulder. The image of the old man faded away and a large sphinx now sat in his place, inspecting Davion up and down.
“We were entrusted with the orb,” the old sphinx said. “We have carried it four months now, until my daughter was caught in that madman's snare. You have freed her, and so have shown yourself worthy of this gift. Take it, and use it well...”
The sphinx dipped its muzzle into its bag and deposited what it found there into Davion's open hand. The orb glimmered with soft blue light.
You have found an item of great power.