Talax blinked in bewilderment. Had that really happened? Had the God of luck truly appeared out of nowhere and given him a blessing? The world around him cracked and groaned, raining down chaos, yet all he could hear was Aria’s bland voice.
Congratulations!
A God has smiled upon you,
Your actions have garnered the attention of the supreme and deemed you worthy of a reward fitting your achievements!
You have been blessed!
Blessings:
Tychos
For the next hour, you've been bestowed with a 25-point boost in luck. After the blessing fades, you'll still be left with a lasting gift of 5 permanent points.
Requirements:
Dance like a chicken, Sing like a chicken, Act like a chicken!
Did he really? Did he have to... No... It must be a sick joke! “You have to be kidding me!” He exclaimed, the words punctuated by the distant rumble of a boulder crumbling from somewhere behind him.
“Where is that damned God?' he demanded, looking around, expecting Tychos to materialize with a mischievous grin, ready to announce, 'just kidding!' But no one showed up. “That mother...”
“Talax! Shut your mouth! You're lucky Tichos is such an easy-going God. If there was someone else in his place, they wouldn't have blessed you but smitten you in a second!” she shouted inside his mind, her voice back to its normal, animated self. Talax huffed. He knew he had been playing a dangerous game when he talked back to the God, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt a kinship with the deity, as if they had been old friends, and knew that he wouldn't mind a little cheekiness.
Aria, for her part, had been apoplectic. She had screamed inside his head to be respectful and meek and accept whatever the God commanded him to do. When she heard about the blessing, she had stayed silent for a moment, apparently stunned, and then buzzed with excitement.
“What I don't understand is why he appeared. I mean, isn't it strange to find him inside the dungeon... Wait... Do you think he might be the one who orchestrated our meeting?” Aria scoffed.
“Tychos? No way! I know of him. He's a minor God, and he has been for some time. Even though his domain is envied by many, he lacks ambition, and he doesn't progress. He only entertains himself with drunks, gamblers, and lost cases,” Talax laughed. “Why, thank you, Aria!”
Aria realized how she sounded and tried to backtrack. “I mean, not always; he has his moments.” Talax smirked at her clumsy attempt to pacify him. “So, you don't think it's him?”
“No. If I had to make a guess, it would be someone like Xenos or Mystros.” He had no idea who these guys were, but he felt relieved; he kind of liked the jerk. “Or the Blood Mistress,” added Aria, and Talax's eyes widened. He knew that name!
Before he could investigate further, he heard a thunderous crack that echoed through the tight space, sending shockwaves through the air. The ceiling, that had barely hung on until then, surrendered to the forces above, collapsing with an earth-shattering roar.
Chunks of stone rained down, and a cloud of dust enveloped the tunnel, blurring the outlines of everything within. The debris settled quickly, revealing a massive pile of rubble that blocked any chance of retreat.
“I don’t mean to rush you, but Talax hurry up already and activate the damn blessing! I don’t want to be trapped again inside the amulet for centuries, beautifying your corpse.” Aria's voice echoed, urgent and tinged with a mix of annoyance and anxiety. He knew she was right, but the idea of having to act like a chicken, just for the wicked pleasure of the God, was offending.
Talax felt the weight of the collapsed ceiling press on his nerves, but he couldn’t help but whine, “I have to make chicken sounds! Its’s humiliating!” he protested, his voice carrying a blend of embarrassment and frustration. “Talax!” Aria warned, the warning was punctuated by the sound of shifting stones and the ominous groan of the remaining structure.
“Fine!” He exclaimed. Reluctantly, he bent his hands, in a poor imitation of wings and started flapping his hands like a lunatic. Thanking his lucky stars that there was no audience for this humiliating display, especially from his companions Qalo and Franny who wouldn’t let him leave it down, Talax let out deranged squawks, committed to perform an exemplary act.
He must be doing a very good impersonation if Aria’s howls were any indication. “Oh, oh! I had forgotten how it is to laugh! Thank you for that! I haven’t laughed so hard ever since my poor sister was ready to profess her love to the mayor’s son, only for the same day the boy to elope with a bear of a man, called Glen. It was tragic at the moment, but a great topic of conversation at the summer festival!” Talax heard her devious giggle and stopped his clumsy attempt at animal impersonation.
“I thought you loved your sister.” He said genuinely confused. “Oh, not that one. I had another one, the bitch stole my boyfriend, she had it coming!” Talax shook his head, seeing more and more of the ghost’s personality.
“Now do it again! Do it! Do it! Do it!” She chanted in excitement, her voice animated with newfound joy. “You are enjoying this a little too much.” Talax commented disgruntled, but still began his mad dance again.
“I won’t deny it.” Aria replied shamelessly and began howling in laughter again.
Finally, a gold light suffused his body and the blessing activated. He felt a small change in his surroundings. He couldn’t pinpoint what had changed, but something felt different. Bracing a breath, he looked at the crumbling tunnel with determination and started running.
Immediately Aria’s laughter stopped, and she remained eerily silent, as if she was holding her breath as Talax rushed forward, rocks, dirt and mortar falling around him like a deadly rain.
Running for what felt like an eternity, his heart pounded in rhythm with the chaos surrounding him. Yet, as he continued to evade falling debris, a frown creased his forehead. His speed inexplicably waned until he came to a sudden stop, his wide eyes scanning the peculiar scene.
“What’s wrong?” Aria's worried voice cut through the chaotic thoughts. Talax didn’t respond, he merely looked around. With his mouth open he stayed rooted in place as rocks of all sizes fell around, without one of them grazing him even a little. It was as if he was an island and a storm brewed just outside his boundaries. He saw rocks changing trajectory, others that were about to crush him into paste somehow collided with other projectiles, transforming into harmless dust.
“Ok Tychos, that is cool! Although I could have done without the chicken dance!” He shouted to the ceiling, hoping the God could hear him. With a laugh, he started sprinting again. He moved with an almost carefree grace, weaving through the narrowing tunnel as if strolling beneath a starlit sky.
“Are you sure this is the way?” He asked Aria between breaths. “Yes! The treasury is connected to the main chamber, where Ha’arun used to greet his followers and perform his rituals.” Talax nodded, feeling relieved. “And then?” He prodded, already knowing the answer, but needing the reassurance of a plan to guide him.
“I already told you!” Aria huffed. “From the main chamber there is a corridor that leads outside. I just hope it wasn’t destroyed when the temple transformed into a dungeon.” Talax doubted that their only way out would be blocked. He was sure everything would work out. He was sure...
The tunnel finally gave way to a small wooden door, signaling their chance of escape. “Finally.” he muttered, moving to open it, only to find it stubbornly stuck. The constant tremors had left the door wedged tightly against a damaged wall. Frustration surged through him, and he began slamming against the door with brute force.
“Talax, use Slick, it may help,” Aria suggested. Pausing to consider, he realized he had nothing to lose. With a shrug of acquiescence, He started casting the spell, the incantation flowing from his lips with a practiced ease. However, instead of directing the magic toward himself, Talax focused every ounce of his concentration on the stubborn wooden door. The air shimmered with energy as he channeled the spell, and a thin layer of water materialized, sinking into the thirsty wooden surface until the door glistened with moisture.
Talax nodded approvingly at his handiwork and took several steps back, eyes fixed on the dampened door. "Good luck," Aria hesitated, her voice carrying a hint of concern, as if she could feel the impending impact.
With a deep breath, Talax propelled himself forward, each step building momentum. The collision was thunderous, the force reverberating through the tunnel. His bones groaned from the impact, but the recently acquired armor shielded him from harm. As he crashed through the door, he felt the wood yield to his power.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Just as he passed through to the other side, he heard Aria’s bland voice, announcing.
“You have suffered 12 points of damage.”
“Remaining health points 228/240.”
Talax, still reeling from the collision, didn't have time to respond. Lying amidst the wreckage of the shattered door, he felt a bone-jarring crush, his armor and teeth rattling from the impact. For several moments, he lay there, dazed and unmoving.
Slowly, a new kind of unsettling sound brought him back to the present. He lifted his gaze from the debris-strewn floor and saw chaos unfolding around him.
It took a moment for Talax's tired mind to register all that was happening. The scene before him unfolded like a nightmarish tableau. He found himself at the back of a massive chamber, standing on an elevated platform that served as a vantage point, overlooking the amphitheatric space below. The tiers of the chamber, each resembling massive steps leading toward the rear, formed a descending cascade that culminated in an altar, now broken and defiled by the passage of time.
The chamber, devoid of any adornments or embellishments, exuded a solemn, almost mournful aura. He spotted some irregularities on the stonewalls. Once adorned with symbols of divine power, they now stood bare, their carvings worn away by centuries of neglect that seemed to echo with the whispers of forgotten prayers and ancient rituals.
As his attention was brought back to the chattering sounds in front of him, he froze, and almost instinctively activated his stealth skill. He felt his skill flicker, trying to overcome so many presences, but it finally stabilized and Talax wanted to sigh in relief. He stood up as silently as he could and tiptoed to the wall, wanting to be in the safety of the shadows.
In front of Talax, amidst a small army of chattering skeletons the skeletal commander stood sentinel. The faded robes, a stark reminder of the temple's glorious past and its eventual decay, were riddled with holes, and swayed eerily as if caught in a spectral breeze. In one hand, the skeletal figure clutched a massive sword, a relic of a time when this chamber resonated with the might of a god. In the other, a staff crackling with residual energy conveyed a lingering echo of the divine power that once pulsed through these hallowed halls.
The chamber was alive with the rhythmic clash of steel against bone as the skeletal army moved with an eerie precision, their hollow eye sockets fixed on the intruders. A few steps below, a small group of gnolls was fighting off wave after wave of the skeletons. He heard their pained yaps as their fierce struggle played out on the uneven tiers of the chamber, a desperate defense against the encroaching skeletal horde. Among the chaos, he spotted Vesperine, appearing and disappearing with swift grace among the hyena-like creatures. Trailing behind her were remnants of dark shadows, left behind as she swiftly dispatched her foes, leaving a morbid trail of blood in their wake.
A few steps below, he saw a lone figure fighting for his life. Qalo, surrounded on all sides, found himself ensnared in a desperate battle against the encroaching horde of skeletons. His bellowing cries of pain echoed through the hollow chamber, his frantic eyes casting desperate glances back at the rest of the group. Talax followed his gaze to the next step, and he felt horror overtake him.
Callum, acting like a shield against the relentless tide of bones, exhibited abilities that Talax had never witnessed before. His arrows, imbued with a terrifying aura of mana, descended upon the skeletal mass like harbingers of devastation. Each shot killed dozens, the deadly projectiles finding their mark with unerring accuracy. A semi-circle of Kiss of Life traps surrounded him, emanating a protective barrier that engulfed any skeletal figures daring to breach his lethal archery, immolating them in white flames.
Yet, behind the lone archer, a terrifying tableau unfolded. Edward and Franny, were locked in a deadly dance, exchanged blows within a self-contained bubble of their own making. Edward's face was contorted into an ugly expression, a mask of hatred and malice that seemed to have finally fallen away, revealing his true nature. Franny fought desperately, his every move aimed at merely surviving against the overwhelming power of his uncle.
Talax's heart sank as he observed the brutal exchange between Edward and Franny. Franny's face bore a savage wound on the side, blood oozed from the injury, staining his features with a macabre mask. At their feet lay the shattered remnants of Franny's breastplate, his new armor now a shattered shell.
The clash of swords sent sparks flying, a metallic symphony echoing through the chamber with every collision. With each resounding hit, Franny lost more ground, his footing giving way under the relentless assault. His heaving chest and sweat-soaked face demonstrating the toll exacted by the ongoing battle. The tide seemed to be turning against him, making Talax’s heart beat faster.
Just as it seemed that Franny was on the verge of succumbing to the overwhelming force of his uncle, an unexpected savior emerged, the Radiant imp of Sansor. The small, conjured creature, whether by design or mere happenstance, intervened repeatedly, becoming an unlikely shield for Franny. Its erratic behavior defied predictability; jumping in front of Edward, it blinded him momentarily, wiggling its fingers within the confines of his helmet, and even latching onto his sword hand in an attempt to wrest the weapon from his grasp.
Talax couldn't figure out whether the imp acted with intentional protectiveness or simply followed its chaotic nature, aggravating those it encountered. Regardless, he felt an overwhelming gratitude for the imp's intervention. Its unpredictable antics provided Franny with the precious moments he needed to defend himself, injecting a wild and unpredictable element into the ferocious duel unfolding within the ancient chamber.
He was ready to run over the ocean of skeletons when he heard Aria exclaim. “Ew, is that Morgrimm? He looks ghastly!” The ghost snickered and Talax saw again the head skeleton, commanding the undead army.
Name: Morgrimm the devout
Health points:176/180
Mana: 232/270
Level: 29
Race: Deathbound
Age: Undead
Profession: Mage
Class: None
Deathbounds are individuals tightly connected to the inexorable force of death. They once served a master they pledged their souls to. Once death welcomed them to their embrace, they are born anew as Deathbounds to serve even in the afterlife as faithful servants. These creatures are steeped in death magic and their high affinity makes them extraordinary spellcasters.
Attributes: +4 per level
He heard Aria huff in annoyance. “The devout? The devout? Since when?” She demanded shrilly. “Wait! Is he wearing my robes? I knew it! I knew that snake was after my position!” Her words were laced with a blend of indignation and betrayal. Talax studied the threadbare robes that looked about to fall apart, trying to make out anything important, but not even his analyze skill picked up anything special.
“Well, you know... You died. Someone had to take your place.” He heard Aria take a deep breath, as if ready to unleash a long-winded thesis on the merits of him shutting up but then she simply erupted with a single, emphatic statement. “You are an idiot!”
“I am sure you are right, but why?” She gave an exasperated huff before responding. “How do you think the Metallurgians found me? I had made every protection ward and ritual I could think of. Someone must have ratted me out! And that rat is Morgrimm! At least he got what he deserved!” Aria exhaled with a perverse pleasure.
“Mmmm.” Talax simply responded, analyzing the walking skeleton. “Why can’t I see his skills or attributes?”
“You must evolve the ability. I told you; you are still too weak.” Talax studied the Deathbound and came to a conclusion. “I am stronger than him.” Aria turned serious at his words. “Don’t get cocky, you may surpass him on raw attributes but his has the advantage on levels! He should have abilities and skills boosting his defense and attack that you cannot see, so be careful.”
Talax surveyed the moving chaos around him. He was still undetected; the skeletons’ complete attention was captured by the intruders at the other side of the room, clacking for their blood. Here and there, he spotted new skeletons rising and joining the already overwhelming horde.
“Is he doing that? Raising more skeletons, I mean.” He felt Aria surveying the situation through his eyes, the sensation somewhat disconcerting. “I do not believe so, their appearance seems to be connected to the death mana. Maybe the Deathbound, initiated their emergence, but he is not actively summoning them.”
Talax thought the situation through. “So, killing the Deathbound alone won’t solve the problem of the skeletons.” He analyzed the skeletons closest to him.
Race: Skeleton
Health points: 60/60
Mana: 0
Level: 9
A simple reanimated construct, brought back from the veil by ambient death mana. These creatures have an innate hatred for all living beings.
Attributes: +3 per level
The first thought that crossed Talax’s mind was, “Those things were weak!” He checked another one, but there weren’t many differences.
Race: Skeleton
Health points: 80/80
Mana: 0
Level: 11
A simple reanimated construct, brought back from the veil by ambient death mana. These creatures have an innate hatred for all living beings.
Attributes: +3 per level
He heard a pained yelp and the momentary distraction caused by Aria ended abruptly. His eyes swung back at his friends, and he saw Qalo all but buried under a pile of bones. “They need me.” He murmured to himself, watching Franny evade at the last moment a sword strike about to cleave him in two.
“Indeed.” Aria agreed, her voice subdued. A million thoughts ran through his mind in seconds, trying to formulate a plan and find a way to help his friends while staying alive. “One obstacle at a time.” He murmured and his eyes turned to the Deathbound as the skeleton mage unleashed a sickly beam of energy.
Talax, resolute, decided it was time to reveal his presence. His hands started moving, words laced with the chill of death escaped his mouth and his stealth dropped, exposing him to the countless skeletons clamoring for flesh.
Yet, Talax remained unfazed, his concentration unbroken as he continued chanting. The anticipation of power surged through him, an exhilarating sensation that replaced the familiar fear and weakness he had experienced in previous battles. This time, he felt different, alive with excitement and ready to face any opponent.
No longer the helpless weakling, he recalled the battles that had left him with trembling knees, especially the one against the old man. Now, armed with his skills and spells, he stood ready, with newfound confidence. The void magic within him resonated in agreement, rattling his core with excitement and sending waves of energy coursing through him in eager anticipation.
His gaze shifted to the chattering skeletons, their bony forms animated by a malevolent force. Lips moving in sync with the arcane incantation, Talax revealed a wolfish smile, hungry for more mana and experience. In that moment, amidst the chaos and the clash of steel and bone, for the first time, he felt... Powerful!