Chapter 59 – Treasure

The draugr witch Halldis was screeching. Jack was certain that her screaming and cursing rang out through the air for miles around. He allowed himself a small smile as she threw an enraged tantrum in the cavern.

Apparently, Gurthok had cursed his treasure. If anyone found it who wasn’t supposed to, it was set to start disintegrating into sand.

Jack watched with fascination as weapons, armor, potion, gold, silver, gems from every color spectrum slowly turned into dust right before his eyes.

Halldis had torn through the caves in a wraith-like frenzy as she frantically dispelled the curse, but a lot of damage had already been done. By Jack’s rough estimations, only 40% or so remained of the treasure.

He’d spent the better part of an hour relaying the events of what happened when he broke his way into the mines.

“I know you did something, you cursed, wretched human. I command you to tell me what happened!” she roared, dead rotten spittle flying in Jack’s face.

“I told you, lady. I was mining as commanded. The rocks fell away, revealing a door, but since no one ordered me to stop mining, I kept hacking away. The one you should really be mad at is the Taskmaster. He was supposed to be supervising me.” Jack said in an accusing tone.

Halldis flashed deadly eyes at the Taskmaster, who was pointedly ignoring the conversation.

Jack definitely wasn’t telling the whole truth. There had definitely been a warning message. He was hoping something bad would happen by ignoring it. But since she wasn’t being specific with her questions, it seemed like he didn’t have to be specific with his answers. A nice little loophole, Jack mused. If she wasn’t so angry with the loss of treasure, she might have asked smarter questions. Now she was just concerned with laying blame, and Jack was currently directing it all towards the Taskmaster.

Onem, for his part, seemed nonplussed by the losses. He flashed Jack a curious look as he came down to inspect the room, saying little, only halfway paying attention to Halldis ravings as he inspected everything that remained. He commanded the room be emptied and brought back to his chambers.

Jack wasn’t allowed anywhere near the treasure after that. Onem was kind enough to command Jack to sit and wait for further orders.

Jack watched as dozens of undead carried up out of the mines the remaining treasure chests, weapon, armor, and any other items of value that remained. Even for over half of it disappearing, there was still an impressive amount left, Jack thought.

After that, it was radio silence. Two days had gone with little to no interaction. No taskmaster to bring him horrible food and the occasional beatings. No silent brooding draugr to try to coax conversation out of. No Onem to duel against. Hell, he would have even taken a visit from Halldis, the insane witch. But there was nothing. Onem had commanded him to wait. So he waited.

It did provide him plenty of time for introspection, though. That was the worst part of it all, honestly. Every time Jack closed his eyes, he found he was staring at himself. Sort of. He could still see Happy Jack and Killer Jack in his mind. Happy Jack with some sort of drink in his hand, smiling at him. Killer Jack looked at him like a dog waiting for him to throw a ball.

He wasn’t that desperate for conversation yet. Jack ignored them both.

Finally, after the twentieth rewatching of the mission impossible movies in his mind, something happened. He heard lumbering steps coming from deep in the cave and his ears perked up at the first sign of movement in days.

The Taskmaster was lumbering towards him. He didn’t look too great. He was still a big roided out draugr, but his dead eyes looked even… more dead? Jack had thought, staring at the draugr.

“What’s got you down in the dumps? You miss me that much?” Jack asked the approaching draugr.

“Onem would like to see you. Follow me.” He said, not making eye contact with Jack and walking towards the mine exit.

Jack practically sprinted out after the draugr. He didn’t care where the hell the Taskmaster was taking him, but any longer staring at the wall and misremembering the mission impossible movies were truly going to make him go insane. He tried to push the two unwelcome guests taking up space in his brain back down with everything else, but they both fought back.

I’ll deal with you two assholes later. Jack thought with a grimace.

No you won’t. Came Happy Jacks’ mocking voice from his hammock inside Jack’s mind.

“Fucking hell…” Jack sighed.

“What?” the taskmaster asked.

“Nothing. Where are you taking me? I thought Onem wanted to see me? We usually fight in the clearing over there?” Jack asked, changing the subject.

“The longhouse.” The taskmaster said,

Jack cocked an eyebrow at the Taskmaster as he took him through a part of camp Jack hadn’t been to yet. The Taskmaster took him to the far side of camp, past several worn out tents and shoddily put together buildings. They walked through a large fenced in portion of the camp, an enormous house inside, two enormous doors propped open letting in the cool breeze.

Jack followed the taskmaster inside. There were several tables inside. It had enormous black furs spread out across the wooden floor. Large, black and purple quilts embroidered with ancient cryptic designs hung from the walls. Where there was free space axes and shields hung next to them. A large hearth burned in the middle of the room and just beyond it, on a throne of bones made from an impressively large animal, Onem sat, a bored look on his face.

The Taskmaster bowed deeply from across the room to Onem, and then left, not saying anything.

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Onem just stared at Jack as he looked around the hall. Jack spotted a large bucket with two horns sitting next to it. He ignored everything else as he walked over to the barrel of what he was hoping was mead of some sort. Jack gave it an inspecting sniff, the smell of honey and mildew filling his nostrils. He grabbed one of the horns and filled it up, taking a long, desperate pull from it. The mead tasted terrible. It was hot and stale, as though it had been sitting out for the past year. It was the best thing Jack had in weeks. He emptied his cup and dropped it back in for another drink.

After several more drinks, he moseyed his way over to Onem, who was patiently waiting for Jack, an amused look on his face.

“You couldn’t pay me to drink that.” Onem said matter of fact.

“Well, you could pay me. Easy money right there.” Jack countered with another sip of the horrible mead. “So whatsup buddy? I was beginning to think you forgot about me. We dueling again?”

“My brother Gurthok…” Onem said after a long moment. “Was an unrivaled berserker. His feats of strength defied logic. The man would take on entire armies by himself. He was truly the greatest of warriors.”

“And you’re telling me this because-“

“What made him so great,” Onem said, cutting Jack off, “was a mystery for the longest of times. Our berserker clan draws their strength from taking damage to their bodies. That damage served to fuel them to even greater heights. It’s a deadly tightrope our warriors must walk for power. Gurthok had one foot firmly planted in life, and another rooted in death. He didn’t walk the line, he straddled it with a mastery that no one has achieved since.”

“But…” Onem continued, “Even that wasn’t enough for him. He had to take it a step further. In addition to taking damage to his body, he pushed his powers further, damaging his channels, his mana core, even his very soul. It was an extremely dangerous technique. Just as damage to the body served to empower his body. Damage to his channels and core served to further empower his mana. Just like that, he had taken another step into greatness.”

Jack stared at Onem for a long moment as the draugr seemed to lose himself in some private memory.

“He would always return from battle a pitiful form of his true self, having pushed himself to his limits in every possible fashion. His channels were always destroyed, his core cracked through, his body slow and tired. Then he would lock himself away for months, only to return in perfect form. I could never figure out how he did it. How he recovered his channels from a state of absolute destruction. I thought it a benefit of his class that he neglected to share…” Onem grimaced.

“I take it you found the answer?” Jack asked.

Onem looked at Jack as though he just remembered he was standing there. Jack had sprawled out in a relaxed position at one of the nearby tables, mostly paying attention as Onem rambled on.

“For a long time, I thought our clan was cursed. It turns out – I was right.” Onem said, his eyes turning angry. He flicked his fingers and a chest sitting next to him slid across the floor and stopped in front of Jack. It was a pitch-black chest that looked to be radiating with mana. Jack inspected it.

Epic Mana Locked chest

Type: Container

Tier: Epic

Enchantment Slots: 8/8

[Mana Storage - Natural Enchant]

Allows the user to store mana within the item which can then be used to power the item's functions.

[Sustain - 8 Slots]

Uses the mana stored in the chest to sustain itself in harsh environments.

This chest isn’t where it should be…

Jack stared at it for a long moment, confusion on his face. He vaguely remembered something about epic items not being allowed on the first floor because the mana wasn’t strong enough to create or maintain them. I guess this is their idea of a workaround, Jack mused.

“What the hell do you want-“

“I command you to open it.”

Jack grimaced as he felt the manacles flare to life and his body moving in response. It had two simple latches that he undid, causing the lid to spring open.

A flood of incredibly dense mana poured out of the chest strong enough to make Jack wobble at his knees from the pressure.

“You see…” Onem hissed, “It wasn’t some unique ability my brother had. No. He made a deal with a devil, a being of true evil. He had an item made that could restore the damage he would do to his soul and all that encompassed.”

Jack stared into the chest at the item inside, trying to maintain his balance as the powerful mana in the air dissipated around him. It was a potion.

Elixir of the Transcendent Berserker

Type: Elixir

Tier: Epic

Description:

Grants passive regrowth of destroyed mana channels.

Designed for use with the Transcendent Berserker class to counteract the effects of damage received to mana channels from the various techniques of the class. Product of Andurian.

Jacks’ eyes went wider and wider the more he read. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he read the flair on the item.

Product of Andurian.

He just couldn’t get away from this motherfucker.

[Warning: Insufficient mana, item degrading in…]

[10…]

[9…]

[8…]

Jack stared at the item, refusing to pick it up.

“Drink it.” Onem commanded. Jack looked at him, eyes wide, and gritted his teeth as the manacles flared to life, burning him.

This time, Jack fought back against the order. It never really worked, but he only had to last 7 or so seconds.

“I command you to drink it.” Onem said more strongly this time. The manacles burned him even more and Jack grit his teeth in pain as his body unwillingly bent down to pick up the elixir.

It was a product of Andurian, and Onem wanted him to drink it.. Those two reasons alone were enough to make him fight back with everything he had. Jack watched the timer climb down as he unwillingly popped the top off the elixir. It smelled of fire and rage.

[4…]

[3…]

Just three more seconds, he repeated in his head over and over again, his entire body shaking in defiance. Jack squeezed down hard against the glass in hopes of shattering it, but apparently epic glass was much sturdier.

Maybe that’s why everyone is so used to throwing potions. Came an errant thought.

Jack felt his body move involuntarily as he brought the potion to his lips. He was fighting with everything he had not to tilt his head back and drink it down.

Then something happened.

He was betrayed.

I bet it tastes good. Drink it.

Jack looked in the back of his mind to see Happy Jack sitting up in his Hammock. He gave a mock cheer with his martini and drank it down in one go.

Jack felt his body give way as he drank the elixir.