Interestingly enough, the Dray’Mel library only had the on single book on Iskrin biology amidst it's surprisingly full shelves. When Skrakch had first found ‘An in-depth Autopsy of Dray’Mel’s Native Creatures: N - Z’ as he ‘helped’ the librarians properly organize the shelves of his favorite haunt all those months ago, the brown Iskrin had been properly ecstatic.
Finally he’d had a frame of reference for his own body, the book had been an invaluable tool that had helped him learn more about his own physique then ever before. Skrakch hadn’t been entirely sure he needed to know that his tail was essentially part of his spine, but the fact he did know was of great comfort to him.
Which was why the Ratling was feeling slightly betrayed by his own body as he could feel each of his individual tendons and bones screaming out in pain as he pushed past his own limits to move a goddamn boulder while two fucking Chosen threw around enough strength to kill him a dozen times over by accident.
Skrakch kept his eyes forward as he heaved up against Ornn’s Core, slowly making their way towards the nearest exit and the freedom it promised.
“Almost there,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Just a bit further. Just a bit… further.”
Slipping on some loose bits of stone, the Iskrin let out a deep groan as he looked over at Meekknuckle, the poor Goblin in an even worse state than he was.
If it wasn’t for the fact Skrakch could see the Goblin straining to push his companion's inert Core, Skrakch would be certain Meekknuckle was practically comatose on his feet. Meek had his eyes closed, his whole body pressed against the boulder that was Ornn’s body, and even without Skrakch’s Mana Sight, the Ratling could tell the Goblin was running on fumes alone.
Skrakch’s own Mana reserve were running low, a fact made all the more painful by the sheer amount of ambient Mana flowing in the air around them. Whatever the newest arrival was doing was leaving quite the mark on the Arena and the change in Mana density was giving Skrakch a massive migraine.
Unable to resist himself at the reminder, Skrakch peeked behind his back and let loose a whimper at the sight that awaited him.
The brown Iskrin had personally seen quite a few battles in his days, but none came even close to matching the brutality of the two inhumane Chosen currently attacking one another. Even Winifred’s battle with the Shade had a veneer of civility but this? This was all out war. A brutal one at that.
Sure, Winnie could move at speeds that boggled his mind but Skrakch could still see her reliance on training, distinctly human, no, mortal movements guiding her attacks and footwork.
The two monstrosities behind him had no such instincts as they fought tooth and… claw?
The Shade-Ghast was massively outsized by its looming foe but every attack it threw towards the spider-like legs of the new Chosen cut deep into the monstrous beast’s hide with a fountain of sickly red blood. It was a stark reminder that if Skrakch had been forced to continue fighting the Ghast in close quarters, the odds were decent he'd be mincemeat in no time.
Worse yet, that was before the Shade had seemingly merged with the Undead. Each rending claw seemed less like a single blow and seemed more like a living, or unliving, butcher's grinder made flesh.
Skrakch hadn't the faintest clue what the other Chosen even was, but the monstrosity was just as deadly as it fought back with it's own jerking motions. Yet with surprising precision, one of its legs pierced clean through the Shade's body and pinned it to the floor, before two other spear-like legs began rhythmically stabbing into the Undead. Even from a distance Skrakch could see dozens of gashes piercing through the Shade’s chest, each recovering just in time to be replaced with another two stabbings.
‘What in the Nine Hells even is that? It’s almost as if it was a twisted mishmash of the natural order.’ Skrakch thought to himself as he stared gobsmacked, before pulling himself together. ‘The only thing similar that I’ve read of is a bloody Chimera, but…’
Pinned as the Shade was, the Ratling assumed it would be in danger of being overwhelmed but the Undead-Shade barely seemed to notice as it continued its own reckless attacks. Even held down against the Arena's floor as it was, the Ghast refused to relent from it's mindless aggression. For every piercing blow it took, its body rapidly healed from the attacks, and having a leg in its chest just gave it a better target for its claws.
In turn, the ‘Chimera’ as Skrakch decided to christen it for now, seemed to be actually taking damage as its leg was ripped apart, but the swelling Mana in the room meant it was likely about to cast more of its insane, almost apocalyptic magic.
Turning back to Ornn, Skrakch let out a shrill squeak as he began shoving once more. ‘Please let us get out of here, I’m so done with this shit!’
In his desperation the Ratling tried to shove some of his Mana into his arms, hoping to give his struggles a helpful edge.
While Physical Enhancement magic really wasn’t his cup of tea, he’d seem Winifred cast basic enhancements on herself constantly. ‘How hard can it be?’
It turned out the answer was ‘extremely difficult.’ Almost instantly his Mana began running out of control and before he could stabilize it, Skrakch accidentally pushed the Mana out through his hands and directly into Ornn’s Core.
Lightheaded from the failed attempt, Skrakch was about to collapse on his knees when an answering swell of Mana flowed into him.
Gasping at the sudden influx of energy, the sudden reversal of Mana left Skrakch feeling overwhelmed until he felt the foreign Mana settle into his own Core.
‘So tired. Let me… sleep…’
Even as numb as Skrakch was feeling, the message was as clear as day to him. Ornn, the lumbering Golem, could think. Could bloody well communicate. He’d seen Meekknuckle touch the Golem before, even noticed him offering his Mana to the construct, but this was more then Skrakch had ever expected.
If he had the time or the energy, this revelation would have blown Skrakch’s mind. As it was, the Ratling just immediately pulled that foreign Mana from his Core and directed it right back towards Ornn.
‘Wake the fuck up! Now!’
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Each rumble of the floor lulled the Golem further into his slumber, each tremor running through the stone floor pulling him deeper into his blissful rest.
The earth sang to him, promising an uncompromising sleep and the Golem let the lullaby guide his mind towards stillness. He knew intrinsically that he had nothing to fear from the deep sleep, from the siren call lulling him to rest amongst the dirt and stone surrounding him.
It felt right for Ornament to fall asleep, to let time pass him by as he reconstructed himself. His Core was more exposed than it had ever been and he could feel his thoughts peter out into the world without his stone shell.
Like most Golems, he had no true understanding of urgency, no concern for the passing of the sun and moon…
But that wasn’t true for his companions, the little ones always clamouring around him. Each was so distinct and… loud. Even his life long companion was always poking at him with his Mana, always egging him on to another adventure.
‘No, not egging. Encouraging.’
The urge to sleep was overwhelming, and he could feel it affecting his mind. Over the years he’d learned that most Golems were rather sedentary in nature and it was clear to Ornament that he’d be much the same without Meekknuckle behind him.
Even now, Ornament could feel Meekknuckle’s Mana slowly dripping into his own Core, each little sprinkle of Mana carrying the little Goblin’s intent clearer than any words.
We. Will. Be. Fine. Do. Not. Worry.
Even as the Goblin’s Core emptied out in his chest, Meekknuckle kept sending what little Mana he could collect towards his companion. Each droplet was filled with warmth and comfort, white lies said with pure intentions.
When the Golem was whole and well, each message was a welcome reminder that his protector was nearby. No matter what came for them, Ornament had been confident that his crafty companion would know just what to do.
When the duo would stumble across bits of broken sewers, Meekknuckle would be the one to guide Ornament to safety. The Goblin could outsmart the beetles that so often sought to carve out the stones that made up his chest, he was even nimble enough to dodge attacks that Ornament could never avoid, deftly hold fragile creations that simply broke when Ornament went to touch them.
Meekknuckle had always been his guiding light and Ornament was all too happy to follow in his wake.
Whenever they’d run into something strange or unusual, Ornament’s instincts would scream at him to flee, each new encounter filling the Golem with uneasy dread. ‘What new way will this attack us? What twisted being haunts us now?’
And each time, Meek would laugh and send him reassurance with a gentle touch of his Mana before going to investigate the nuisance. Before long, his companion would have diffused the situation or explained to Ornament that it was an easy thing to avoid.
There had been only two times that Ornament could remember when his earnest protector hadn’t been able to save him.
The last time Meekknuckle hadn’t been able to protect them, Ornament had nearly gone to sleep as well. The Golem could only remember the blistering cold as it cracked away at his body, then the sensation of an overwhelming amount of Mana overpowering him.
Then pain, as his arms were ripped away from him.
Even that paled in comparison to the time the Patriarch had taken note of him. Meekknuckle had taken great pains to hide Ornament from his father, and for good reason. The Golem could still remember the sensation of his body being torn apart piece by piece. There had been no malice in the act, just an uncaring exploration of what made Ornament tick.
Only to be tossed aside when Blazock decided he was of no interest to him. Ornament had fallen into a deep slumber then, and been so very surprised to wake up to an entire Goblin nest having been built around his idling Core. One more time that Meekknuckle had done his best to help him...
This time though, this time Ornament was going to stay awake. This time he would be the one to protect his friend, no matter the cost.
And so, the Golem struggled to move. His body had been shattered by a beast so strong, Ornament could barely comprehend it. Bit by bit though, he could repair himself. Little pieces of stone, upturned during the fight between ‘strong-friend’ and the 'unholy-thing'.
‘Sleep would be so easy though. Just to drift off, only to wake up once I’m fixed.’
Drifting in that state of uneasy awareness, Ornament continued his struggle in quiet contemplation. At least until he felt a foreign touch on his mind.
Whenever Meekknuckle would speak with him, the exchange of Mana was always small. A little nudge of intent, a question asked in a whisper. Just a dollop of Meek’s Mana was enough to facilitate an entire conversation…
With Skrakch, however, the Ratling’s erratic sending of Mana collided with Ornn’s Core with all the subtlety of a battering ram. A confusing whirlwind of emotions bombarded the Golem, each bit of Mana drenched in desperation and fear or tinged with bravery or jealousy.
The deluge of sensations and emotions overwhelmed the Golem and left Ornament momentarily adrift. Painstakingly examining the new emotions with a curious mind, Ornament was still reeling when he heard the earth’s lullaby wash over him again.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
It was all very exciting but a Golem wasn’t meant for excitement, it seemed to say. Still, Ornament felt compelled to answer the little one’s message. Filtering through the foreign Mana, Ornament let it energies his Core before sending it back to Skrakch, signalling his intent to sleep, to recover, to rest.
‘Wake the fuck up! Now!’
As the Mana spiralled into his Core, the Golem would have audibly gasped if he’d had a mouth, as he felt the foreign energies deep into his soul. Where Skrakch's first infusion of Mana had been directionless, this new message was all too clear and it cut deep into the Golem's mind.
It was like a lightning bolt to Ornament’s Core, a wave of Mana filled with too many complex emotions for the Golem to fully understand but more than that, it flowed throughout his Core, filling and activating the Runes edged into Ornn’s very being up in a way that the Golem had never experienced.
For a disorientating moment, Ornament could feel his thoughts adapting to the sudden change, questions he’d never bothered to ask were suddenly being answered.
He was a Golem, but he was also not. The few brethren he’d seen were empty things, empty of thoughts and soul. Shuffling mindlessly to obey their masters, but he was something more than that. Ornament had no master… but he did have friends.
While Ornament couldn’t perceive the world through eyesight, the Golem could sense his surroundings by slowly cycling his Mana outwards from his Core. Now though, the process was rapid to the point of being near-instant, and what the Golem saw nearly broke his rocky ‘heart’.
Pressed up against his stone exterior were Ornament’s two most common companions, both little creatures still trying to move the weight of his Core with their dwindling strength.
Even as he ‘looked’ down at them, Ornament could see the frustration on Skrakch’s face as the Ratling sent spike after spike of Mana toward’s the Golem’s Core. Each bit of offered Mana splashed against Ornn’s Core as the Golem rebuffed it.
Not out of indifference or out of the urge to slumber, but out of worry as Ornament instead focused on Meekknuckle, as the Goblin struggled to save him. With Ornn’s newfound awareness, it was obvious to the Golem that Meekknuckle had completely emptied his own Core. Each little bit of Mana came from his body's natural regeneration, the Goblin’s lifeforce draining itself away so that Meek could connect with his rocky companion.
Ornament’s Mana flowed through the air around them as the Golem struggled to get it’s bearings, seeing the Arena with fresh senses. Watching as the two creatures he didn’t recognize battled with one another, watching as 'strong-friend'... No, as Winifred held open the door and called back to the trio, with 'Zacharias' nowhere to be seen.
The Golem also noted the broken rubble floor surrounding them, noticed the little bits of earth clinging to his Core as he instinctively tried to pull himself back together. Each little piece was slowly attached as it melted together to form a rough outline of his body. It was how Ornn had always recovered to his natural state of being, small additions adding upon themselves bit by bit.
And it was so very painfully inefficient.
Plunging his Mana into the rubble surrounding his Core, Ornament beckoned the stone floor itself to move towards him, asking it to melt and merge into a tidal wave of earth that swept up and over his companions, pulling them safely upwards as he began to refashion himself. The melody of the earth surrounding him seemed to change, the lulling tones turning questioning, but still the earth was happy to listen to his call.
Ignoring Skrakch’s cry of terror and Meek’s quiet acceptance, Ornament first began to build his body as it had been, shaped in the form of a human before realizing that it would take far too long. Instead, he requested the stone rubble beneath his companions to form itself into a loose cup of stone as Ornn held them steady.
Finally, Ornn let his Core drift below the ground’s surface as the stone welcomed him as a long-lost brother, bits of dirt circling his Core as the Golem fell into the cold embrace of the earth itself.
From there, it was as simple as requesting the bits of stone to move forwards, his Mana politely infusing itself into the surrounding rubble began to shift and swirl. The top layer of stone shifted towards the exit, as the bottom fled towards the back of the room.
Moving across the ruined Arena floor in a surprisingly graceful flow of stone, Ornament could still feel the urge to slow down, to embrace the tranquillity of the earth.
But it only took him one look at Meekknuckle’s face as the little Goblin passed out to remember why he needed to keep on fighting.
‘We must flee, flee before-‘
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Winifred let out a wheezy gasp as she watched the Arena floor begin to shift and move, blood trickling down her limbs as she struggled to remain standing. At first, the brunette had assumed it was an attack by the goddamn spiderthing that had shown up out of nowhere, but watching as Skrakch’s muzzle went from terrified to delighted…
‘Well, the Ratling has definitely smiled in the face of death before.’
Still, she was happy to see her companions moving. As soon as Zacharias had helped her reach the door, the heartless prick had muttered something about preparing the estate’s gate.
Seconds later he was gone, no doubt fleeing for his worthless life. Leaving her standing amongst the ruined Arena’s walls, just steps away from freedom. Only a flimsy, half destroyed door stopping her in her tracks.
She wasn’t an idiot. Every second she spent standing by on bloodied feet was another second she risked getting attacked by the two Chosen but Winnie wasn’t going to run. Not before the other two got out. ‘I’m nae fucking Zacharias.’
She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting from the Halfling but his abandonment still stung.
‘Bloody hell, this shite is affecting me more than I thought.’ Winifred coughed a glob of spit into her hand as she waited by the doorway to freedom.
It had been hard to watch Meek and Skrakch as they struggled to move the Core without her but the number one rule she’d learned in her fights in the pits was to always be realistic with your body.
‘An’ fuck me does -all- of me hurt.’ Winifred had always thought of herself as a fighter, someone who could take their licks and still come out swinging but…
This was so much more than a dislocated shoulder or a broken nose. She’d felt her body breaking down as she forced herself to match the Ghast in combat, felt her muscles atrophy in her arms.
It was Hell. Pure and simple torture, but she'd kept swinging. ‘What else are ye good for, lass?’
This entire venture was a disaster but the fact she hadn’t been able to take out the Shade gnawed at her.
This was what she did. Who she was. Fighting was what made her ‘Winifred’ and not a Lady Of Society.
Her mind skittered back to that first moment when she’d woken up after becoming a Chosen. Crushing Sykes skull in her hand. The sheer ecstasy of it.
But she also remembered what had happened afterwards. Waking up to Fang’Mel taking her. Being strapped to the table, examined by the Tomb-Makers like she was just a slab of meat. Three months of poking and prodding, of being forced to fight that monster. Again and again, getting slapped down with such… ease.
Winifred could feel her eyes sting as she fought off the memories, bringing up a gore soaked fist to haphazardly swipe away her tears.
This was meant to be her shining moment. Winifred the unbreakable, domineering and powerful. Hells, the Ratling had done more than her with his potions and his new spell.
‘It was disgusting. Pathetic. What’s even the-‘
A sense of danger slammed into her and pulled her from her morose thoughts. Even distracted as she was, Winifred knew enough to keep an eye on Ornn and the two enemy Chosens as they clashed against each other.
Which was why she was able to notice the Shade-Ghast as it ripped itself free from where it had been impaled on the ground. She could clearly see the way it looked around for something to attack, even as the monstrosity above it reeled backwards on skittering spider legs, even it's Houroun-shaped head opening its mouth to scream incoherently.
Leaving just Ornn in the Shade’s sights. As fast as the Golem’s impromptu wave of rock was, it was nothing compared to the speed of the Shade as it began to lunge towards where Skrakch and Meekknuckle were coasting along the Arena floor, attracted by either the Mana the Golem was tossing about wildly, or just seeking to attack anything that moved.
As tired as she was, Winifred didn’t even notice as she began to move towards them all, time slowing down as her senses began to speed up. Her body screamed in pain but it was a distant thought as the brawler burst into motion.
Break…
The ground cracked below her feet as she kicked off, eyeing the distance with a critical eye. There wasn’t any way she would make it, not at the speed the brawler was currently moving.
Before Winifred could consciously think of it, however, her Mana began to move through her body. Fighting its way past the power given by her own Pact. Both sources of strength seemed incompatible with one another, but Winifred couldn't care less about that. Not when her companions were about to die before her eyes.
It was a fickle thing, but instinctively Winifred knew what she needed to do. Balancing the two different sources of Mana was improbable at best, but she only needed to manage it for a moment.
Mana coursing towards her hands, Winifred could feel her bones breaking from the pressure but as her Mana reached her artifacts, the Chosen couldn't help but grin.
Before Skrakch or Meekknuckle, or even the Shade could realize it, Winifred appeared beside the Undead monstrosity as her Blink strike activated, the ability of her knuckledusters propelling her forwards in the blink of an eye. Dwarfed by the Ghast's size, the sight may have looked comical to anyone who had the ability to see her blurred form as her full body haymaker connected with the Shade’s body.
For a few fuzzy seconds in Winifred’s foggy mind, she could picture a small little orb travelling through space.
The sight should have been alarming, or at the very least confusing, but the Chosen felt an odd connection with the marble.
It drifted aimlessly for what seemed like eons, before a massive planet began to show up in the corner of Winifred’s vision. The drifting mote of energy she was tethered to, made it’s way closer and closer, until it finally reached the planet.
Winifred hadn’t the faintest idea what was happening, but as she watched the marble-sized orb as it collided with the hunk of rock and life billions of times bigger than the orb, she felt a flush of power ring out.
Without stopping or slowing in the slightest, the orb penetrated deep into the planet crust, the area nearest to the collision point becoming a wave of rippling molten rock that spread outwards, even as geysers of lava broke out across the planet's surface.
The force of the impact was so powerful, Winifred could see existence itself being pulled inwards, the planet's matter pulling in on itself even as it crumbled into millions of little shards of stardust.
It only took less than a second for the entire planet to succumb, its entire physical structure collapsing inwards, outwards, truly and utterly destroyed, an entire world destroyed in the time it would take Winifred to blink.
The only thing left an unphased orb, continuing onwards. Everything that it touched, annihilated completely.
Break…
Suddenly back in her body, Winifred watched with fascination as her fist collided with Shade’s torso, her knuckle dusters shattering to pieces even as the Undead’s blackened flesh and bones practically evaporated from the force of the blow.
Huge chunks of the Chosen’s flesh melted instantly, an intangible force spreading outwards from Winifred’s attack. What little remained didn’t break or bleed as it broke apart, no regeneration following as the Shade tried to flee the Ghast’s broken body, the black sludge that made up its body desperate to seek its freedom.
Small parts of rotten meat managed to disengage from the melting bones, but the rippling aftereffects doggedly pursued all traces of the Shade’s energy. Finally, the ghostly form of Shade abandoned even those same bits of flesh, the wraith-like Specter desperately attempted to escape upwards through the shattered mansion’s body, but there was no respite to be found.
As the dust settled in the Arena, Winifred stared up in shock as the Shade died its final, true death. The befuddled brawler took in the massive gap in the already destroyed mansion roof, what little remained of Rodyr’s estate obliterated by a single punch.
As she stared gobsmacked at the burnt husk of her right arm, a brilliantly white sheen on the pointed tip of the exposed bone that was her forearm.
As a raw scream ripped itself from her body, all she could make out was a thousand shining eyes staring down at her as the remaining Chosen moved its torso down towards her, a smoking hole having been blasted through its center of mass.
As she fell backwards, her eyes rolling into the back of her-
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Skrakch had never felt more confused in his life. One second he was staring at Winifred and his freedom as the goddamn ground itself ferried him to safety, and the next he felt an explosion of power behind his head that beggared all belief.
By the time he turned around, all he could see was Winifred’s body tumbling backwards, the absolute maniac’s right arm a disgusting mess of gore.
Even though his muscles screamed in protest, Skrakch lunged to grab at the ruined remnants of her shirt, his tail desperately swirling as he tried to keep his balance inside Ornn's impromptu stone grasp.
Heaving Winifred towards the barrel of stone that may or may not be Ornn’s body, Skrakch just tried his best to stay awake and hold onto his companions slack body for dear life.
The Ratling couldn’t help but stare at the Chosen he'd dubbed ‘Chimera’ as Ornn led them to safety. Even with nearly all his companions unconscious or fleeing, the Chosen didn’t seem that interested in them, it’s thousand eyes simply tracking their movements.
Thankfully, as Ornn reached the Arena doorway, the Golem didn’t bother to slow his charge. Bits of wooden support beams crumbled or cracked as the Rogues burst out from a cellar door, finding themselves in Rodyr’s once fanciful Estate Gardens.
Now the corpse-filled, half-destroyed gardens looked like the most beautiful thing Skrakch had seen in what felt like months, his heart finally slowing to a normal level as freedom seemed within his grasp.
Slowing slightly, Skrakch couldn’t help the laughter that came bubbling out of his chest at the sight.
“We’re alive! By the Gods Above or Below, we’re fucking aliiiiiiive!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, even as his laughter turned to panicked whimpers.
‘…How the Hells are we still alive!?”