I begin trotting along, the cart dragging behind me like a ball and chain. We only travel for around thirty minutes down the deserted path before hitting some trouble in the form of a massive tree across the road. Seeing how the closest tree is around fifty meters to the side of the road, it's obviously intentional. This thought is proved correct when I discreetly use [Searching Step] to scan the area, revealing around a dozen people hidden in the nearby grass and short bushes. I whisper this to the others, pointing out where each of the thieves are hiding. We roll to a stop and I quickly unlatch myself from the cart right as several of the bandits reveal themselves, leaving a few hiding as backup.
The bandit who looks most like their leader, with newer and better gear than the rest and absolutely no hair on him, steps to the middle of the road and slams the head of his warhammer into the ground.
“Step off the cart and hand over your valuables, or we'll take them from your corpses. Your choice.”
The only response we give is Allysa launching several massive spears of ice towards the still hidden members of the bandits, killing one instantly while the others are forced to break stealth to dodge the magic, marking the start of the battle. With a feral roar, Draven leaps from the cart and launches one of his axes straight at one of the now visible rouges, splitting their head in half with a sickening crunch. The axe, seemingly ignoring physics, flies back to Draven's hand even as the other one is midair. Pala says a short prayer and taps her staff on the dusty road, a bubble of green light flashing into being as several arrows and crossbow bolts ricochet off of it.
As for me, I grin, a terrifying sight with my new beastial face, as I draw my lance and charge straight towards the leader, who pales at the sight of his men being slaughtered so casually. He lifts his hammer and spins, meeting my rush with a savage swing of his own, knocking my lance off target from his heart to just nick his shoulder. As his blood hits the metal, glowing crimson glyphs flare to life across its surface and he staggers from the sudden blood and mana loss. It doesn't bother him for long, however, as he rapidly brings his hammer back around for a follow up. I don't stop moving, rushing past him and using my one weapon technique: [Fade].
My entire form becomes blurry and indistinct, my lance shifting around as though made of mist as I wheel around for another charge. I launch forward again, fading completely out of view for a split second before fading back in right as my lance punches a hole straight through his chest plate and chest, blood leaking around the massive spike now embedded into his heart. The bandit tries to speak, but all that comes out is a rattling, wet gasp and a gout of blood. By now, he's visibly paling and seeming to deflate, growing thinner as his blood and mana are drained to fuel the lance. I take a step back, ripping my weapon free with little effort, his corpse collapsing to the ground and crumbling to dust. All that's left is a pile of bones with a chunk missing from the ribs and a suit of heavily damaged armour. His hammer thuds dully into the dust, a much louder sound in the sudden quiet of the battle. At the sight of their leader crumbling to dust without a sound, half of the remaining bandits drop their weapons and flee in terror, while the other half stand frozen in horror. Meanwhile, even my teammates look slightly queasy at what happened, with Pala turning to the side and vomiting into the grass. I swivel to charge the next one, and the acrid stench of piss fills the air as they drop to the ground, curled up and shaking. At the horrible smell, I snap back to myself, the bloodlust receding and horror slowly taking its place as I veer to the side, my lance embedding itself into the log in the road. I release the handle, stepping back in shock as the strange sensation of something else's bloodlust recedes entirely. The glyphs on the Consuming Lance dim for a moment before flaring brighter than before, it's simple, plain shape warping and twisting into something crooked and malevolent. The system message shifting as I [Inspect] it only confirms my fears.
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Consuming Lance (Cursed)
An expertly made lance forged from petricite and hungering truesteel, it will consume both blood and mana to fuel its cursed strength.
When fed mana: Empowers the lance, increasing its strength.
When fed blood: Repairs damage to the lance and activates the innate ability [Vampirism].
(Curse) When fed both: Activates innate ability [Bloodfury].
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[Vampirism]: Absorbs mana and blood from the victim, storing excess blood in the metal and mana in the grip. Wounds opened by this weapon are much harder to heal. The lance will begin to drain the target's blood if kept within an open wound.
[Bloodfury]: Fills the bearer with blinding bloodlust, amplifying any damage dealt with the lance and attempting to take over the host body. Failure to resist results in racial change to [Vampiric Thrall].
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Looking at the lance in disgust, I knew immediately that I could not keep it, since that curse is far too dangerous to even attempt to bypass. I feel sick, having not even noticed the mental effects until they broke. I shudder, backing away from the lance as the log it's impaled in slowly dessicates and crumples into powder. The lance hits the ground with a metallic thud, and I turn away to look at the man huddling on the ground, now just staring at the lance with a manic gaze. I realize what he's going to do a moment after Allysa yells out at him, but we're both too late to react. He lunges forward, ripping the cursed weapon from the dust. The glyphs flare with a bloody light, blinding us for a moment before it fades.
The man, or what was once a man, glares at us with such hate that I recoil a step, as does everyone else nearby. Gray skin the colour of stone replaces warm brown, glowing red eyes filled with malevolence replace deep green and a mouth filled with fangs snarls at me, clawed hands and joints that just bend wrong twist unnaturally to level the lance in a charging position. My eyes widen as I dodge to the side, struggling to keep my legs under me from the awkward maneuver when the Thrall blurs past, a massive gouge in the road from the lance where I had been standing moments prior. Through my panic and the chaos, one thought comes through clearly:
Well shit, this isn't good.