Cretch Aurum awoke from smothering darkness to visions from the depths of a nightmare. Bathed in an eerie green light, a city of smooth stone buildings rose around him swarming with monsters, humanoids, and insectoid puppet masters. His friends awoke moments later, shaking themselves from their stupor. Massive creatures surrounded them all in the milling crowd, and a group of them forcibly marched his friends further into the city. His friends fought their captors every step of the way, but it was apparent they were worn and weak. He had begun to collapse as soon as he came to, pain from his leg and total exhaustion ruined him. But, the gigantic red-furred gorilla from the caverns held his shoulder with a grip like iron, stopping his fall. He was dragged away from the crowd by the hulking beast. It held him and marched down a side alley, following an orderly line of dead eyes dwarfs and slack-jawed monsters.

The beast forced Cretch forward through the line to a perfectly circular hole carved into the cobbled ground. A heavy wet stench rose from the hole, and made Cretch wretch and heave. The gorilla launched him forward over the lip of the hole, and he fell for only a second before impacting and sinking into a mushy pile of refuse and things he preferred not to think about. More trash and waste was thrown in, as the line of monsters and dwarfs pushed what was probably weeks worth of garbage into the same half-buried pile on top of himself. Searing pain shot up through his unresponsive leg with every shift and compression of the garbage heap.

Cretch grasped at anything that could support him and managed to find his grip on a squishing piece of meat. He pulled himself to the surface of the pile, thoroughly coated in rotted materials and vileness. He gasped for fresh air and wheezed in pain as he extricated himself from the pile. The conveyor line of dwarfs and monsters continued their work uncaring

Cretch Aurum awoke from smothering darkness to visions from the depths of a nightmare. Bathed in an eerie green light, a city of smooth stone buildings rose around him swarming with monsters, humanoids, and insectoid puppet masters. His friends awoke moments later, shaking themselves from their stupor. Massive creatures surrounded them all in the milling crowd, and a group of them forcibly marched his friends further into the city. His friends fought their captors every step of the way, but it was apparent they were worn and weak. He had begun to collapse as soon as he came to, pain from his leg and total exhaustion ruined him. But, the gigantic red-furred gorilla from the caverns held his shoulder with a grip like iron, stopping his fall. He was dragged away from the crowd by the hulking beast. It held him and marched down a side alley, following an orderly line of dead eyes dwarfs and slack-jawed monsters.

The beast forced Cretch forward through the line to a perfectly circular hole carved into the cobbled ground. A heavy wet stench rose from the hole, and made Cretch wretch and heave. The gorilla launched him forward over the lip of the hole, and he fell for only a second before impacting and sinking into a mushy pile of refuse and things he preferred not to think about. More trash and waste was thrown in, as the line of monsters and dwarfs pushed what was probably weeks worth of garbage into the same half-buried pile on top of himself. Searing pain shot up through his unresponsive leg with every shift and compression of the garbage heap.

Cretch grasped at anything that could support him and managed to find his grip on a squishing piece of meat. He pulled himself to the surface of the pile, thoroughly coated in rotted materials and vileness. He gasped for fresh air and wheezed in pain as he extricated himself from the pile. The conveyor line of dwarfs and monsters continued their work uncaring of his presence. On elbows and stomach, he drug his battered and worn body further from the pit, onto the flat, smoothly cobblestone path. The smell and pain finally overcame him, and Cretch wretched and vomited onto the road and himself.

The line of dead-eyed minions continued their work as the perfectly circular hole in the ground began to fill up over the rim. Cretch continued to drag himself further away from the crowd. Thankfully the midden heap had been located off the main road, and an unused alley was readily available for him to hide away in. He arduously inched toward the darkest corner he could find, while attempting to ignore the world engulfing pain of his leg. He heaved himself up against a wall of the alley, shrouded by shade. It was not a moment too soon, as one of the orange carapaced insects that directed the mind-numbed prisoners walked around the corner to observe the line of workers.

It circled around the pit, and with a motion, the conveyor line halted. This insect had a bright, almost yellow coloration, and it began to walk in circles around the pit, leaving a drawn circle around the edges as it did so. Cretch pulled himself further into the shadows, stifling any whimpers or gasps that nearly arose from handling his leg. After three laps around the pit, the creature lifted its segmented arms. It drew a series of runes into the air, a tier-three spell consisting of three concentric contaminant rings if Cretch's wavering attention could be trusted. As the working completed, a field of green spread within the circle the insect had drawn around the pit. It shuddered into opaque solidity before violently pressing downward. Air rushed into the hole behind the arcane press, and the pit was carved into the ground slightly wider. The creature released its spell and moved to allow the conveyor line to continue piling their material into the now compressed refuse pit. It remained to observe the prisoners for several breathless minutes more, before turning down the alley toward the main road.

As it disappeared around a corner, Cretch let out a shuddering whimper. He moved to shift further down the alleyway, dragging his leg behind. His leg looked terrible. It was swollen, red, and the bolt wound in his thigh seemed half-rotted and septic. How long had he been kept "asleep," he wondered, this was days worth of infection, and he could feel the sickly fever playing havoc with his head. He calmed his racing mind, and reached out to the system, calling up his abilities. He closed his eyes and activated his Meditation(III) skill.

/NEW: Condition: Meditative State(III)

The familiar calm of meditation washed away the fear and pain. He felt the flow of his aura, the pulse of his lifeblood carrying his natural energies from his chest to his head, then his arms, then his legs and tail, and back again. Over and over in an empowering cycle of auric generation. The cycle was ragged now though, sputtering, and weak. His left leg was horribly wounded and was rapidly poisoning the rest of himself. Cretch opened his eyes, and brought up his schema,

Name

Cretch Setah Aurum, Cretch

Existence

Race: Scaleling(V)

Conditions

Condition: Auric Invigoration(III)

Condition: Meditative State(III)

Condition: Wounded(I-VIII)

Attunements

Fire(II), Water(II), Steam(IV)

Expressions

Saulv’tounge(Spoken, Written)

Andalian(Spoken, Written)

Acuity

10/15

Abilities

Meditation(III)

Auric Invigoration(III)

Diagnose(IV)

Wound Closure(V)

Disease Curative(I)

Medic(Skill Set(IV))

Swimming(V)

Tailor(II)

Spear Thrust(II)

Cauterizing Strike(I)

Titles

Bleakermen’s Guild Member(VI)- A long standing and treasured member of the Bleakermen’s mercenary guild.

Bonds

Bond(I): Tribe of Aurum

He activated Diagnose(IV) and felt connections made within his mind, as knowledge and experience were called forth from his deep memory and focused toward himself.

/NEW: Condition: Sepsis(II)

/NEW: Condition: Crippling Wound(IV) (Left Thigh)

/NEW: Condition: Hairline Fracture(II) (Left Femur)

/NEW: Condition: Fever(III)

/NEW: Condition: Exsanguination(II)

Conditions added themselves to his schema, and his heart dropped into his gut. This was very, very bad. Chances are the only reason he was still conscious, let alone alive was Auric Invigoration(III). The prolonged passive condition would probably be an issue depending on how long he had been forced "asleep," but he would handle that when he came to it. For now, there were more significant problems to deal with. Thankfully his captors hadn't thought it necessary to remove his medical satchel from beneath his tunic while he was under their control, or at least they hadn't realized what the flat leather satchel was.

Cretch brought out the thin, folded leather container. He tried to scrape some of the grime and unmentionable mess away from its exterior but found it a futile effort. Instead, he dragged himself further into the flat, hidden alleyway. Once he was far enough away from the pit into a relatively clean section of the alley, protected from outside view, he unfolded the satchel. It unfolded into three sides, with knives, general bandages, salves, scissors, stitching thread, needles, a wooden dowel rod, and his saw.

He took his saw and wooden dowel out. He was thankful for meditation's numbing effects, as his hand would definitely be shaking otherwise. He placed the rod between his teeth and bit down. His pointed teeth dug deep into the rod. Cursing himself for not improving his Disease Curative(I) more, he prepared the necessary bandages, salves, and straps.

Once everything was as ready as this terrible environment would allow, he brought the saw to bear. He had previously prided himself on his efficiency and calm demeanor when treating patients. That lasted for the first two seconds of the procedure, up until the pain reached him through his meditative state.

/LOSS: Condition: Meditative State(III)

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

The pain, fever, fear, and dizziness crashed into him all at once. He stopped with the saw biting into his upper thigh. The wooden dowel creaked and groaned between his teeth. Whimpering in pain, Cretch tightened his death grip on the saw and continued his grisly work. Over and over again, the saw bit. With every bloody inch, his consciousness faded more and more. He contacted bone, and he briefly paused in shuddering pain but kept going after a moment's respite. Burning pain beyond his imagination exploded through his veins. As the last of the bone was cut, the dowel rod shattered under his bite. He hissed and cried out, alone in the alleyway, but he didn't stop, and he didn't give in to the darkness creeping onto the edges of his vision. Over the course of the longest minute of his life, the remaining tissue was severed.

Cretch reached for the straps with a shaking hand and tied them around his wound. He let his consciousness fade slightly and went through the motion of treating an injury. Salves and stitching first. The stitch pattern turned out crude and barely adequate after 10 minutes of work. Still, it was the best possible outcome given the situation. Next was more salve and bandages. Barley conscious of his hands going over the motions, the wound was treated as best he could. Once that step was completed, he called on his standard abilities, Wound Closure(V) and Disease Curative(I). His waning aura flickered under the strain of both skills' immediate effects, and Auric Envigoration's continued weight. Still, the constant searing pain lessened as the auric control abilities took effect on his newly shortened leg.

/LOSS: Condition: Sepsis(II)

/LOSS: Condition: Crippling Wound(IV) (Left Thigh)

/LOSS: Condition: Hairline Fracture(II) (Left Femur)

/NEW: Condition: Limb Loss(V)(Left Leg)

He fell back onto his back and respired heavily in dry wracking breaths. His vision faded with his relief, and the shock began to overtake him. Without any will left to stop it, blackness overcame his vision.

He awoke sometime later. The unhealthy ache of his stump and the smells of rotting meat and rancid blood aggravated his slumber. At first, Cretch feared he had gone blind somehow, but as his eyes adjusted, he realized the green glow of the city had dimmed to a uniform blackness. Weary and uncertain, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around, finding the alleyway barren, and the noise of the trash pit totally absent. Small specks of dim red light glowed high above, and silence hung heavy over the whole city. He hated missing notifications, but it wasn't precisely an ideal situation to begin with, and unconsciousness hadn't been optional. He activated Meditation(III) again before reopening his schema.

/NEW: Condition: Meditative State(III)

His schema pulled up, and he saw the sepsis, fever, and exsanguination conditions had fallen to rank I, a sign of improvement at least. Though he wasn't looking forward to the aches and pains deactivating Auric Invigoration would bring, a body could only operate above its natural limits for so long. But, he didn't know how long he'd been using it, and he needed to find a place to hold up, heal, and plan before he could relax. He pushed the thoughts of panic and uncertainty out of his mind, meditation helped with that a great deal. He began to mumble under his breath.

"Rule number one of guild work, survive. Rule number two; help guildmates survive. Fat lot of good I can do for that in my state." He shuffled himself over to a nearby wall and rummaged through some of the dust-covered trash piled to the side. Eventually, he found a suitably long section of gray wood-like material. He propped himself up against one of the uniformly smooth walls and slowly got to his foot. Using the length of wood and nearby wall as support, he made his way out of the alley with short one-footed hops. A brief exhalation was all the laugh that escaped his lips as he wearily mumbled more to himself.

"A crutch for Cretch. Hah. Where's Malyra when you need her. Or Roderick, for that matter, I shouldn't even have to walk if he could help support." Cretch briefly paused as his lagging mind caught up to what he was saying. "Shit, meditation's catching up to me. I shouldn't talk to myself so much. It's a sure sign bottled emotion is cracking its container. Not a good sign." He briefly blew a not-laugh through his nose at that. Most of the past, however long since the cavern horde's charge, hadn't been a good sign. He needed to find a secluded spot to let his strained mind and body unwind.

"A nice place with a warm bath, hot food, and a stiff drink. That sounds wonderful. Wonder if there's an Inn nearby? Hah! Malyra would've loved that one too!" His brief laugh and subsequent comment were louder than he meant them to be. His hissing voice echoed through the silent alleys of the city. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click of teeth as he moved to make a bit more haste to find a secluded place.

He made his way out of the alley as stealthily as a one-legged scaleling in a hostile city could. It appeared that a curfew of some kind was in place as the main road of the town was entirely barren of life. But the road also appeared to be close to the center of the city. Or at least what he believed to be the center of the town. A giant pillar stretched up well past where he could see; it was so large Cretch couldn't barely see its rounded curvature from his position. One way or another, though, no easy way out of the city presented itself, and Cretch was hesitant to walk the main road even if it appeared abandoned for now. He slunk back into the alley and chose what he hoped would be a parallel route. Leaning against the walls of the alleyway, he periodically found his way to the main road to see his slow progress away from the giant pillar.

The further he went, the more rundown the smooth stone structures appeared. He could see faint flickering light through some of the irregularly shaped slits that could have been windows. He concluded it would more likely than not be a bad idea to check if the locals this far out were friendly. Cretch was reasonably sure he knew that answer anyway.

The stillness of the city's alleyways was broken by regular clicking behind Cretch. As he looked back, he couldn't see anything. The clicking grew louder with each passing moment. Cretch hustled forward to an intersection of alleys and made a hard turn toward the main street. The clicking continued to approach rapidly behind him. Cretch dove into a shadowed threshold of a closed doorway and pressed himself into the shade. Not a moment later, the familiar glint of orange chitin shone in the gloom. One of the insects moved through the alleyways, setting a pace he probably couldn't have matched even with both his legs. It passed his hiding spot without so much as a twitch to indicate it had seen him, and cut straight through the intersection without turning down Cretch's offshoot alley.

Cretched leaned into the shade for a number of minutes, shaking with stress and anxiety as he hid. Eventually he was unable to hold it back anymore and he began to mumble again. "This place is a nightmare. FIRST mind control of some kind, then the sprawling underground CITY, I lost my DAMN leg, and now I can't seem to stop FUCKING talking to myself. Just GREAT." He spoke as quietly as he could, but occasionally a word would uncontrollably raise in volume. "I'm at the eND of my limit, I think. Much more, and I won't be able to THINK straight for the next few WEEKS. Luck, please stop trying to KILL me, I could use SOME help." He tried to whisper to himself as he pressed against the door.

The gray wooden creaked open, unlocked. The slight creaking sounded thunderous in the silence of the slumbering city. As the door opened, the darkened house revealed itself to be abandoned, coated in a thick layer of dust, and what little furniture it contained was ruined and shattered. Cretch hobbled into the residence and investigated the area, closing the door behind him.

"C'mon, PLEASE be abandoned. Please BE abandoned. The dust seems THICK and undisturbed, that's a GOOD sign, I think. I wonder if THEY do checks of abandoned HOMES. That would SUCK, especially with what's coming." He continued to mumble to himself at various volumes, with devolving control on what he said. "This is NOT a good sign."

After a cursory search of the first floor, Cretch found it empty of anything of value, and anyone. But he also found stairs, a challenge he would have avoided except that the only sound he could hear aside from his own awkward gait came from the second floor. A steady dripping was beating out a rhythm somewhere up the stone stairway.

"Never a BREAK, just what the NEWLY crippled escapee needs, STAIRS." Cretch shifted to sit on the stairs, awkwardly wrapping his tail out of the way, and for two minutes, he shifted his way up the flight of stairs step by step. By the time he reached the top, his limit was pressing down on him. He felt something odd on his face now that he wasn't working up the stairs. He raised a trembling hand to his face and brushed away a tear that had run down his cheek. "Fuck, this is gonna hurt." He said, speaking barely above a whisper. He propped himself up against a wall, near to the sound of dripping and away from the stairs, and he canceled Auric Invigoration(III).

/LOSS: Condition: Auric Invigoration(III)

/NEW: Condition: Auric Discordance(V)

/NEW: Condition: Ruptured Musculature(VI)

The pain didn't come immediately. First came the total loss of control he had expected. Every muscle in his body seemed to twitch and cramp simultaneously. His teeth ground together, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He tilted onto his side, seizing in an uncontrolled release. Then, the pain began. It felt like his entire body was lit aflame as every muscle, vein, and bone ached after the days of continuous use above their natural threshold.

/LOSS: Condition: Meditative State(III)

"Fuusssssshhhhhhhhh" The expletive forced itself out between clenched teeth. The tears came freely, pooling behind his immobile head. One eye became blinded in red as vessels popped, and a trickle of blood mixed with tears. Thoughts of his friends and his fear all of their fates washed over him in an all-consuming wave. Meditation could hold distractions at bay, but there was a cost to ignoring one's nature. Wheezing sobs replaced gasping breaths. His night was spent alone in writhing agony, fear, and despair.

He didn't know how long he laid on the cold stone suffering in cramping silence, but at some point, blackness mercifully overcame him. He awoke to a sore, unresponsive, and battered body. One of his eyes remained blinded, and the other was crusted over in dried tears. His memories of his night's long efforts were fuzzy and slow to resurface. But he didn't get a chance to forget the ordeal as the memory found purchase in his weary mind.

The second-story room was barren of furniture, and dust coated every surface. It was lit by the green glow of the city of nightmares through the single window of the room. A small puddle had been formed in the corner, where a crack in the ceiling let a steady drip of water fall to the stone. When Cretch attempted to sit up and move to the puddle, all he got for his efforts were a spike of inflamed pain. Getting totally vertical was out of the question.

He resolved himself to toughing out the pain as best he could. With great effort, and through continual strain, Cretch half crawled, half rolled to the muddy dust-filled puddle in the corner of the room. Shifting so he could catch the drops of water in his parched mouth, he patiently let the slow trickle quench his thirst. After an hour of catching water drops, he viewed his schema again and found his condition not much better than when he had awoken the first time.

Based on his parched tongue, and current state, he had probably been out of it for at least a day. He laid his head against the cold stone floor and began to speak. "Rule number one survive. Rule number one survive. Rule number one survive." He repeated his mantra over and over again, slowly calming himself down the hard way. While he was pleased to see his various skill improvements, he would not risk using meditation or any aura skill so soon after their strenuous use yesterday. The emotional strain of meditation would be too much for him right now. And, his body was woefully under-equipped to handle aura generation in its current state. He would have to recover naturally for now. Still, once Auric Discordance(V) passed, or grew weaker at least, he may be able to hasten the process.

After another hour of catching water, the constant sound of movement and bustle that carried up through the window seized his. He shuffled over on his elbows to the window. He reached over and grabbed ahold of his makeshift crutch. Though searing aches and shaking limbs, he worked to elevate himself against the wall. Every inch he rose over felt like a mile. Still, he eventually managed to lift his eyes above the sill of the window, supported by trembling arms.

The main road of the greenlit city was alive below him. Creatures the likes of which he could never have imagined moved in orderly lines up and down either side of the roadway. The center of the road was reserved for the insectoid race of slavers that called this city home, and they were plentiful. He spotted at least a dozen individuals of that cursed race as they made use of the main road. He looked closer at the milling crowds of creatures and humanoids. Primarily they seemed to be monsters, bleak hounds, gorilla-like things, and flabby hairless quadrupedal beasts he had never seen. But among them were examples of the sapient races of the surface, humans, elves, dwarves, and even a scaleling or two. Of that minority, he even spotted a few that gave furtive glances to their monstrous neighbors, and who turned their gaze away fearfully from the traveling insects. It would appear that not every captive was mind-controlled then, just cowed into submission.

As he watched, another scene played out for him. A larger group of insects was traveling down the road, and the crowds of creatures along the sides gave them a wide berth. The largest of the group was a creature familiar to Cretch. Bright, vibrant orange shell, polished to a gem-like gleam. Cretch knew this was the very monster that had found his scouting group unawares in the caverns.

As his ambusher walked down the road, he was accompanied by four smaller examples of his species, all of which shared his particular polished shell coloration. The final insect in the group was more modest, scrawny even, and had the coloration of orange so dark it was almost burgundy red. A spiderweb of cracks spread over its head and seemed to malform its left eye. It was following the larger group, gesturing with its limbs like it was speaking, but it was silent save for the clicking of chitinous feet on cobble. The group passed his hideout, and the smaller insect stopped, gesturing with frustration toward Cretch's ambusher.

His ambusher stopped down the road after the small creature's frustrated motions ceased. It turned to the smaller bug and took two steps toward it. The smaller creature flinched at some unseen stimulus. The ambusher flicked a tentacle-like finger of its left limb forward. A visible wave of force washed over the smaller bug and the nearby crowds. The crowds stood stock still for several long moments, before continuing unfazed by the magical effect. But, the tiny bug and the lone thinking individual of the milling crowd writhed on the ground. Cretch's abductor loomed over the spasming bug as it struggled. This continued for a full minute before the smaller bug ceased its pitiful writhing. The ambusher turned away and continued on its path, leaving the smaller bug to shakily pick itself up and turn to leave.

Cretch's arms gave out, and he slid down the wall. He could barely feel his arms after the strain. Cretch rolled over onto his back and shifted to rest his head against the floor, contemplating all he had seen. He wanted to save his friends, but in his current state, that was a distant hope. Rule number two was out of the question. Rule number one was his only hope. Tears began to fall from his eyes as that realization took hold. He tried to distract himself. What did he know?

The city itself was an enigma, one he didn't have an answer for. It seemed to be divided, with the insects at the top. But they also seemed as divided as any group of thinking beings he had yet seen. It was possible his friends were still safe or at least had kept their minds. That was great news as far as he was concerned. James would find a way out, Cretch was sure. For now, all Cretch could do was focus on his own rule number one. And, to do that, he needed to heal. He closed his eyes and tired in vain to force the turbulent storm of emotion and fear to calm, and attempted to rest.