00002: SHE GETS A CONSCIENCE_Zealot

SHE GETS A CONSCIENCE

I see a young human clutching desperately to a human corpse. She’s screaming and sobbing at the figure in her arms. Hmm… I need to be more specific. I search for the memories that just appeared in my mind. Odd… okay. The living human can be described as a young female, perhaps about twenty-five years old. The male human, which is dead, is about the same age. The female is trying desperately to get him to swallow the healing potion she poured into his mouth as undead close in around her, skeletons and zombies, a few ghouls and even two revenants. I flick my wrist and they all stop in their tracks… literally, they do not merely stop, they freeze. Most of them, having been mid-step, fall to the floor. She takes little notice. There is something prickling at the edges of my mind insistently… guilt? Sorrow? I’m not quite sure. I review my latest memories in an attempt to understand the emotion. He was dead, and I was about to raise him as a ghoul to kill her. (seems efficient) Hmm… I raise my hand and point it at his corpse ready to revive him and… I pause.

The feeling is back.

I am unsettled.

Perhaps I can request assistance from the female? I lower my hand and step forwards… hmm, I see a problem. I am currently in the form of a large skeleton dressed in intricate, yet rotten, armor. The human may see this as… mildly shocking. I change forms quickly. I copy from the memories I have in my mind. Memories of looking into a mirror while a middle-aged human female looks back at me. Seems like I looked into this mirror a lot. I don’t know why. Either way, I try to make the closest approximation of that form as I can. There is a problem, what are these… lumps of fat on my chest for? I consider briefly, scanning the ever-helpful memories. Child rearing? I have no children, and they are getting in the way, so I shrink them. I can’t quite get the skin color right. Previously my skin was the approximate color of a roasted walnut, I’ve matched the brightness, but the color is… the mottled purple of an old corpse. I am undead, so I suppose it makes sense that I cannot perfectly mimic the living. Last note, when adjusting my eyes from the burning red flames they were previously, I have gotten them to normal eyes with glowing blue irises, removing the glow however seems to be removing my ability to see in the dark so I shall leave them how they are.

I suppose I am now human enough to not frighten the female. “HELLO,” my voice reverberates around the room like the grinding of millstones. I need to fix that. The human female looks up at me, shocked. I make like I am clearing my throat… This is a valid cover up, right? …while I quickly drag all the magic from my larynx and shove it elsewhere in my body. Huh… the woman in the mirror was me? It’s nice to see that the memory initialization process I created is already paying for its neural allegation. Anyways. “Hello, human female,” I say, my voice unnaturally deep and still a little more resonant than would otherwise be considered normal. At least now it can no longer be physically felt shaking the room. She looks at me in bewilderment before she begins making random noises, several I recognize as the starts to words, before finally speaking. Is this a human ritual I’m unaware of? “You’re… you, can talk?” She speaks. I tilt my head. I didn’t expect a question so soon. I expected a response to my greeting, then I could continue with my queries. Although I suppose if I have questions, there is nothing saying she cannot as well… it’s just inconvenient. Also, this is a stupid question. I just spoke; therefore, it is quite obvious I possess the ability. “This is a stupid question. I just spoke to you.” “Y-Yeah, but…. Holy shit, I knew liches were smart, but no one told me they could fucking talk,” the female muttered that last part quickly and quietly for some reason. “I don’t understand.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter, you’ll kill me anyways,” she said. That was true, she might make a good skeleton, although she might make a better ghoul. I can’t be sure unless she’s dead…. Why’s that feeling coming back? “And if I don’t kill you?” I asked. That seemed like a solution. Her life was a fair trade for information. I have plenty of undead subordinates already.

She took on an expression of shock. “Wait… you’ll let me live… a-and leave… alive… not as an undead,” she said. I don’t know why she was so specific. “Yes,” I said. “I-I… umm….” More strange noises. “Are you alright?” I asked. Being polite is apparently important, at least according to my memories. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I just thought your kind didn’t well… let humans live.” “We generally don’t, no. Although I see no reason not to. you may have valuable information which I would be happy to exchange for your life. Unless… you would like to become an undead?” I offered. “N-no I’m good,” she said, hurriedly. I nodded. My original question had been answered by the process I had searching my memories, I believe the feeling is resulting from a feeling of guilt at killing the human who was dear to this other human, now my current question is much simpler. “What is this place?” I ask. Nowhere in my memories do I remember this location, I’m not completely done analyzing them, but I only begin remembering this place once I became an undead. But before that, there are no memories of it. “You don’t know? Uh… well… I think this is the eighth floor of the Lomari labyrinth.” “You are unsure? Why?” “Well… this is the Lomari labyrinth, I just don’t know what floor this is. We fell down a floor chute trap, on the second floor and came out here. Judging from the strength of the monsters I’d say this is the eighth floor,” she said. I nodded. “Alright. “I thank you for the information human,” I say before turning to the nearest corridor. I have several tasks to complete. Mainly further investigation of this… labyrinth, I have memories of it, but they are more directed on sensing sources of life and sending my undead to snuff them out.

“W-wait!” The human female is calling for me. I don’t stop but instruct the undead to part to let her know I’m listening to her. She takes that as an invitation to follow me for some reason, she is slowed from carrying the human corpse. With a small mental flex, a ghoul approaches her, she flinches, readying her weapon. “Give the corpse to the ghoul, it will carry it for you,” I say. She stops, and hesitantly hands the corpse to the ghoul. Which dutifully takes it from her. She watches it for a few seconds before approaching me. “Can you tell me how to get out of here?” she asks. “I cannot, I’ve never left this floor,” I say. “Well… can you at least tell me what floor this is?” No, I am unfamiliar with the layout of…” I pause. Then do a scan for all the undead. They are arrayed above and below us on what appears to be flat platforms, likely to be the floors. “This is the third floor,” I say. She frowns, “That can’t be right. I’ve been to the third floor before, and it didn’t have nearly this much undead,” she said, then thought. “Wait how are you counting the floors?” “How floors are usually numbered, the bottom being the first floor and so on,” I say. “The floors of the dungeon are numbered from the top,” “I see. In that case this is the twelfth floor,” I say. The human stops, I stop with her. Is she dead? Should I raise her? No… she’s alive. Why isn’t she moving then? “Th-this is the twelfth floor,” she mutters. I look at her. Should I kill her? No, that feeling is truly irritating. Maybe I should have a ghoul carry her since she seems like she isn’t going to keep moving.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay… okay… this isn’t so bad,” she looks up at me. “Are there any… magical artifacts of some kind? Something that can help me fight my way to the surface?” she asks. “Yes,” I answer simply. “Okay, where can I find them?” “You may not have them,” I say. She does something like a flinch… it’s an odd-looking reaction, I passively instruct my program to find an instance of it so that I may identify it. “What? Why?” “The necromancer instructed me to not let anyone take the treasures from this floor,” I say. “What about other floors?” she asks. “Other floors are out of my dominion,” I say. The human female nods. Then begins thinking to herself. She is still following me though… odd. I enter a room with a large coffin in the middle raised on a stone plinth. The human female enters into the room and looks at the coffin. “What’s that?” she asks. “That is the necromancer,” I say. “Oh…” she says, tone somber. I walk around the coffin, only the ghoul carrying the body accompanying us into the necromancer’s chamber. We pass through and enter a cold room with soaring ceilings, and a large throne on the far side. I approach it and sit down. I close my eyes, extending my senses to all the undead in the labyrinth. I sense approaching humans, I pull back the undead in front of them and send them to circle around from behind, I also send a skinner to them, the skinner should hit them from the front, radiating magical fear, it should grab their attention, while they are distracted the several undead from behind should be their unmaking. Satisfied, I scan for other signals of life… I ignore the signal in my chambers.

I look up at the lich, the urge to kill her… no, it, boiling within me. I look at my brother’s corpse, and a spike of grief runs me through. I turn my gaze away. As an adventurer I was trained to never lose my calm in the middle of a hostile environment… to mixed results, but it was done nevertheless. I need to stay calm, even though every fiber of my being wants to shove my sword into the stoic figure sitting on her throne made of bones... human bones. The main problem is she’s a litch. Liches are silver rank monsters; meaning, she could swallow a live grenade and let it blow inside of her, without even suffering so much as indigestion. I doubted a quick stab to the gut would do anything even if my sword wouldn’t bounce off her skin like a rubber ball off concrete. She was undead, and killing the undead is especially tricky. They are unending by default. Entirely self-sufficient, able to survive their flesh rotting off their bones with more ease than me recovering from a sneeze. Hell, even if I were to somehow manage to kill her, I would be swarmed by all the undead on this floor for, since she is the only thing preventing them from tearing me apart. I look at her, her unsettling bruise colored skin, her weird garments that look like they were designed for a figure twice her size that droop oddly, her muscular frame, wide hips, disproportionately flat chest. It looks… off, her body doesn’t conform to the typical way a human body grows in ways I can’t even describe while looking at her. Like looking at an image that’s too realistic to be cartoony, but not enough to avoid being… uncanny.

She opens one eye, the glowing blue iris fixing me in its gaze, and… … …. “You’ve been looking at me for a while now, what is it?” She asks, it’s as if I’m at the bottom of a swimming pool, the sound distorted beyond recognition, yet somehow, I answer. “I-it’s nothing,” my lips say. While my brain is fried like an egg. I remember holding my brother in my arms. Liches can make undead right? Maybe she could make him into an undead, and then I could act enraged, maybe she’ll make him attack, maybe she’ll let him eat me. Tearing my flesh apart with his teeth, I smile lightly chuckling at the idea. Imagining my brother ripping me apart with nothing but his teeth, we’d be together forev- She closes her eyes and suddenly the spell is broken. I fall to my knees, breathing raggedly. Every… fucking… time…. Every time we lock eyes, my mind shatters, as if her gaze alone radiates insanity, and every time she looks away, it feels like a piece of my mind is torn away with it. I can’t stay here for too long, because consciously or not, she’s slowly devouring my mind, piece by piece.

I semi mindlessly organize the undead on my floor, impeding the progress of all adventurers who arrive. It isn’t too common for adventurers to reach this floor, so it’s mostly just preparing traps ahead of time and wishing for more bodies to be made into undead. Thankfully, undead cannot become bored so, I am content to wait. The human female on the other hand has been fidgeting for some time now, glancing around. “What is it you need human?” I ask, looking down at her. She deliberately avoids my gaze. Interesting, that can be taken either as rude or respectful. How could the same action mean two opposing things? I don’t mention it to the human female. “What do you mean?” she replies. “You are unusually fidgety, it is distracting.” “Distracting from what?” The human asks, looking up at me, curiosity on her face. She locks eyes with me and suddenly the emotion starts draining from her face. I frown, I would explain to her my purpose and what it entails, but in my mind… there are instructions, from the necromancer who created me. My lips move without my control, my mode of speech and several other things being ripped from me to add believability. “My janitorial duties,” I reply… no, not I; the necromancer replies for me. “What do you mean by that?” Again, the necromancer replies. “Cleansing this floor from the scourge of the living.” She just nods, looking bored. She glances down looking like she wants to pick at her nails, then a shudder runs through her. She falls to the ground, breathing heavily. That reminds me, I used to breathe, didn’t I? Why did I spend so much time doing that? So many hours spent lying alone in darkness, breathing as if in a trance. Maybe I should try it. I take a breath… I scowl. The air is foul, it stinks of rot and death. Not to mention it’s intensely… how would my human-self have described it? Stale? It’s of no consequence.

I look back at the human female who is finishing up with her panicked breathing. “I need to stop doing that,” she mutters under her breath. I wonder as to what she is referring to before my attention is grabbed by something higher on the floor. The adventuring party I had sent the monsters after survived. They even killed the skinner. Shame, I could not make skinners, only the necromancer could make them, and she was…. I glanced at the coffin in the other room. Although it might be the same room, there was no door in between this room and that one, just a small jutting out of the walls to imply a doorway. Interesting, I had never found myself considering the architecture of this room before. Well since they’d posed a problem, I would send something stronger. Much stronger. I scroll through a mental list of all the creatures under my power. Perhaps subtlety was warranted? I could send a poltergeist. No, they were unreliable. Perhaps something more direct? No, that was skinners. I needed advice. Maybe the human could help. She was human, she might know how to kill the other humans.

“Human, what is your weakness?” I ask. The human does not answer. I open one eye and look at her. Maybe she was unaware I was referring to her since I was not looking at her? No… that could not be it, she was the only human in the room, so that should suffice… well there was the dead human, but logic stated that I was not referring to the dead human. For the dead human was, in fact, dead. Although a further stretch of logic would take the fact that I was a lich and undead, to mean that I may be able to communicate with the dead, and therefore might be talking to the dead human. Ah, that must be it. I opened my mouth to specify, either by status of living, or gender when she spoke first. “What?” the human female asked. I paused, perhaps she simply hadn’t heard me, or was unclear on what I wanted. Also why was she facing away from me? Never mind that, humans were strange. I could go into more detail. “I want to kill some humans, and as per-usual I sent undead after them. A hoard of about seven-hundred fifty zombies and skeletons, along with a single skinner. (The human female’s expression paled for some reason) Conventionally this has been enough to kill all the humans who arrive on this floor, but these humans did not die, and I am unsure of what to send after them next. I could send more skinners, though they are valuable since I cannot create them on my own.”

“A… skinner,” the human female said, face still pale. Was she bleeding somewhere I was unaware of? Humans were so fragile, just one poke and all their juices would spill out. How did they manage to make it this far without something poking them, and popping them open? Well, I had seen humans drinking those healing potions. Those did stop the leaking. Perhaps that was how they did it, they did seem to carry those around all the time. I imagined a human place filled with humans all bumbling about as they often do, running into things, spilling their juices, and drinking their potions…. Since when had my mind become so unfocused? Usually, I could sit and focus on a task for years on end, without ever wavering. Focus, there was a conversation, the human female had just said something stupid, and I needed to address it. “Are you unfamiliar with skinners? I could summon one here if….” “N-n-no need!” she half-shouted out, words rushed. “Ah, really? It would be no trouble at all,” I say, summoning one from the catacombs beneath.” “P-please don’t. I-I am already familiar with them,” she said. “I see,” I dismissed the skinner. “Still, I would like to know how to more effectively cleanse your kind from this domain… excluding you that is,” I tacked on, almost forgetting. Politeness was important, if I am not polite, I may make her uncomfortable.

I feel like I am disarming a fucking bomb! I was looking at the litch, feeling my bladder trying to stab its way out of my hips, trying to debate whether or not it would be a good idea to ask where I could find a bathroom if they even had one here. When she had begun talking to me, first I had accidentally locked eyes with her, and that was some bullshit, then somehow, she got it in her head that the best course of action was to show me a skinner. A FUCKING SKINNER! Like anyone who had explored these dungeons, I knew of skinners, if only as a horror tale some of the veterans had told to us newbies as a deterrent of even coming into the labyrinth. They, like most undead, radiated some sort of emotion. Zombies and skeletons, for example, radiated a small amount of fear; this fear was cumulative and a whole hoard would instill such a potent feeling of fear that it would make even the most stalwart of adventurers have bladder problems. These emotions came in tiers, and fear was the bottom rung of its ladder. The next rung was terror, it was rarer but far more potent. It came from whites, and phantoms most commonly, and it was brutal. I had experienced it before, It was an overwhelming fear that crawled into my mind and drove me to run. I could barely control myself, but that was apparently nothing in comparison to the third and final tier. Horror. It radiated from very few undead, but as it were, it was the trademark of skinners. It was a terror so potent; it would lock up your muscles, letting the slow-moving monstrosities… get closer and closer. Only to make the horror press down on you harder and harder, until… well. They were called skinners for a reason. I had never come across a skinner, very few had and lived to speak of it, they were technically bronze rank monsters, but they were more difficult to take down than quite a few silver rank monsters. They were like liches in that manner I suppose.

Liches were silver rank, but they could easily surpass a gold rank monster, simply because they never fought alone, or fairly. Most people who were killed by a lich never know one was around, falling to an unending sea of undead. And here I was, looking one dead in the eyes. Well… no, I was looking pointedly at the coffin in the other room. Was it even another room? It really wasn’t, the entryway was far too wide, it was more a partition. Either way, I had learned my lesson about looking a lich in the eyes. I could not identify the magical emotion that overwhelmed me. All I knew was it made me feel distant, my mind filled with insane thoughts, so much so I didn’t even bat an eye when she’d explained her job to me. The words she’d used were filled with disdain and contempt, and yet I couldn’t care less, worse; I almost agreed with her. Either way, I needed to answer that question, she’d asked me how to kill the adventurers, I considered. If a skinner hadn’t killed them, they were likely quite strong, a phantom? No, phantoms were pretty hit and miss. Maybe she could kill them though? She was silver rank. And maybe I could come with her. If they kill her, they should escort me back to the surface with them, if she killed them, I’d have earned her favor. Actually, if she added perhaps a few skinners to the mix, that might help her odds, just to lock them down with magical horror. I nodded to myself, then opened my mouth to reply. As I spoke, I wondered when I had grown so callous towards these people. I had probably met them in the guild, yet the idea of them, dying… it didn’t make me feel much. Just a slight tightness in my chest. Maybe I was still in shock from my brother’s death. But… was I supposed to feel this… empty?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I paused in drinking the mana potion, as my blessing rang out in my mind. “Hold up,” I called out to my group. Madness: it was a nasty affliction, but not one I was too familiar with. “I just got a resistance ping on madness,” I said. “God damn, will this never end,” Leroy said, he was our main damage dealer, he had a massive sword sheathed on his back. “Honestly I think it should end soon, we’re running out of potions,” That voice came from Killian, he was our bagger, he was also the one who chucked healing potions at us when we did something stupid. I quickly swallowed the rest of my mana potion.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I frowned. “I got another ping, where is Emiline?” I called out. “I’ll send her a call,” Hubert said, grabbing a phone out of his pocket. It wasn’t the typical smartphone, there wasn’t any cell service this far down, so everything was handled through radio, but it could only go so far through the walls. The phone let out a static pulse, before. “Hey Em, Saria’s got a ping on something, do you see anything up ahead?” He asked. A moment later, I heard Emiline’s voice come from the speaker, a little staticky, but still perfectly understood. “Copy that. There isn’t much up here, just some zombies, and a few skeletons. What affliction is it?” “Madness,” Hubert replied. “Heh, oh. That doesn’t sound like something I want.”

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I interjected. “It’s being cast out at range, we should call her back so I can check her,” I say. Hubert nods. “Em, Saria says you should come back, she wants to make sure you aren’t getting afflicted out there. “Roger, on my way,” Emiline said, before cutting the feed. We waited, Once Emiline entered my aura, she would be cleansed, but I even so, madness was a bad one.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

That wasn’t good. That was faster than before, wasn’t it? I frowned. “The pings are accelerating,” I said. “Shit,” Leroy said. Emiline came running down the corridor, dressed in black, she held two naked daggers, covered in rotten guts. “Hey,” she called out. I felt as if she entered my aura. I checked the team feed.

Affliction: Madness >> Cleansed: From party member: Leroy Newland

Affliction: Madness >> Cleansed: From party member: Killian Drew

Affliction: Madness >> Cleansed: From party member: Hubert Nole

::Alert:: Party member: Emiline Florance >> has re-entered aura

Affliction: Madness >> Cleansed: From party member: Emiline Florance] x5

“I was right to call you back Em, you had five stacks on you,” I said. “Really, I didn’t feel much different than usual,” she said pensively then shrugged looking up at us with her typical smile, “That’s concerning in more ways than one I guess,” she said.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

“Either way, I think we should ready ourselves for something nasty,” Hubert said, readying his great shield. My fingers tightened around my staff.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

“The pings are getting faster,” I said, “I think whatever is causing them is getting closer. Killian what undead radiates madness?” I asked.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

“None that I know of, there are monsters that do, but… well the only one I can think of is demi-elds, but they also radiate insanity at close range.”

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

“What’s the deal with demi-elds?” “Well, they are gold rank,” he said. He didn’t need to say anything else.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I groaned. “Are you okay?” Killian asked, concerned.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

“Y-yes, it’s getting faster…”

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

“I think it’s getting closer,” My voice is strained as my mind begins to fill with pings.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I groan louder and lean hard on my staff, my team going tense.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I fall to the ground clutching my head. As the pings overwhelm me.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I…

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

Can’t…

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

Think…

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

::Alert:: Settings have been automatically altered >> Effected settings:{

notification stacking: Changes >> Set from False to True] Reason:{

Damage to the cognitive functions of blessed detected

Activation of blessing: Danger sense

}

I can hear my screams now… feel the tears running down my face. Emiline is crouching over me. “Saria, are you alright? Can you hear me?” “Y-yeah, it’s stopped,” I say. “I think… it’s here.” I say, now feeling another skill activate. Danger sense. I stand shakily. Clutching my staff. “You feel that?” I ask Leroy. “Yeah, my danger sense just kicked in,” he says.

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted x231

Affliction: Madness >> Resisted

I stopped checking my resistance log. The pings are going extremely fast now. “I’ve got over two hundred pings in just a few seconds. What the hell is out there?” I ask. No one answers, they all just clutch at their weapons. Then… I got another ping.

Affliction: Insanity >> Resisted

I quickly check my resistance log and realize that the madness has stopped rolling in. now…. “Shit,” I say. They all recoil. I never swear, and they know it. I was raised worshiping lumina, Pharmos, and Invaros. The goddess of light, god of healing, and god of endurance, respectively. I was raised to never swear, but now…. “We should retreat, I just got an insanity ping,” I said. They all nod, and we turn. Speeding back the way we came. We make it a few halls before…

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x12

“Hold, I just got horror pings,” I call out. “A skinner,” Emiline says, voice grim. “You said pings plural. How many?” “Twelve,” I said. They all pale. That means there are anywhere between six and twelve skinners somewhere around here, probably higher on that scale since I just picked them up. “Down this way,” Emiline says, dashing down a hall. My danger sense is thrumming in my head like a bad headache. We follow her.

Affliction: Insanity >> Resisted

“I’m getting insanity pings again,” I warn. “Shit,” Emiline says. We all turn and run back, turning down a corridor on our left. We reach another corridor and turn right. I run keeping a close fix on my resistance pings, so far, I’m only getting the background madness pings, which makes me think we’re getting away from….

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x11

“Horror pings!” I call out. Emiline reverses and we run back the way we came, taking the next right. We run further and farther, deeper into the labyrinth. Mine and Leroy’s danger senses escalating. “I think we’re being funneled,” I say. “Got it,” Emiline says turning right. Almost immediately I get pings.

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x15

“Horror pings,” I say. “We’ll try to get past them,” Emiline says. “No,” Leroy overrules. “If we’re being funneled that means there is a lich controlling them, if we back up, they will surround us,” he said. “So, what do we do?” Emiline asks. “Skinners are slow, we outrun them.” We turn and run away from them. Our danger sense finally begins to fade a little… then it returns.

Affliction: Insanity >> Resisted

“Insanity ping,” I say. Emiline turns right, and we run our danger senses ramping up higher and higher.

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x3

“I’m getting horror pings again,” I say. Emiline growls and runs back the way we came my danger sense spikes. “Danger sense,” I call out, just before I get the ping.

Affliction: Insanity >> Resisted

“Danger and insanity,” I say. “Sounds like fun,” Emiline says, before turning us around and immediately right.

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x2

“I’m still getting horror pings, but not as many, I think they’ve spread out,” I say. “Shit,” Leroy swears. Emiline tries to turn us right, but I get an insanity ping, we try to go left but I get more horror pings we try to double back and…

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x39

“Fuck, turn around!” I shout, Emiline doesn’t even question it, and turns immediately. “What was that?” Hubert asks, breathing heavily. “I got thirty-nine horror pings all at once,” I say. Everyone goes pale, we are being funneled somewhere, and we cannot go back. We run down the hall, as fast as we can. Trying to escape the tightening of the noose, but our danger sense only rises.

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x2

Affliction: Horror >> Resisted x3

I’ve stopped notifying them of horror pings, only increases in them. The skinners are all around us. If we stray from the hall even a little, I get either a shit load of horror pings or, an insanity ping. There seems to be about fifteen skinners on our left, and forty at our backs, to our right is the mysterious insanity source. The only path is ahead, and the worst of all… we haven’t seen so much as a single undead, not even a skeleton. The corridor is clear. The darkness prevails, strangling the light from our lanterns. Then… we see it. At an intersection ahead there is a room with a coffin, to the right is a hall and same to the left, we run into the intersection and look down the halls. We shine a light down the left hall. About one hundred yards down the hall is packed… with skinners. I can see them. Skinners look just as horrific as the emotion they blast out. They look vaguely humanoid, but they are a sick rendition of humanity. Their bodies look wrinkled and fat, they are made of layers and layers of skin, all fused together haphazardly, all different shades and colors their heads are the same width as their necks and their eyes are just sunken malformed pits of darkness, through which there is a small glint of reflection. Their mouths are deep holes lined with skin, and from them juts, haphazard teeth, long and sharp in no real order. We shine the light to the right and see that the hall is filled with frost. It must be packed with ethereal beings we can’t see. There’s nowhere to go. We enter the room with the coffin, run through it and enter a large room.

The room is illuminated, with faint blue light that comes from the ceiling. There is a throne made from human bone on the far wall, and in it sits… a woman. She looks down at us as we look throughout the room. There are no exits. “Huh, I didn’t know she’d lead you here,” the woman says. She’s… human. “Who?” Leroy is the first to recover first. “Doesn’t matter, she’s going to kill you all,” the girl says, a little sadness in her voice. We notice the body in the corner. “Who was that?” Killian asks, voice soft. “He was my brother. She killed him too,” the woman says. Something in her tone unsettles me. Then…

Affliction: Insanity >> Resisted

“Shit, I got an insanity ping,” I say. “Who is she? What is she? Do you know anything that can help us?” Leroy asks. The girl just shakes her head. “Nope, there’s not much I can do for you,” the girl says. “Well, you’re an adventurer, aren’t you? You could fight with us,” Leroy says. The girl just laughs. It’s not a good laugh… it twists something within me. “No way in hell, I’m down here because I fell down a floor trap on the second floor. I couldn’t so much as scratch her. Besides, if I help you, and she kills you, she’ll kill me to. So, no, I’m not going to do anything,” she says. “There is an adventurer code….” Leroy begins, but she cuts him off. “Fuck you and your code,” the girl says as she throws something down at us from the throne. I look at it, it’s a metal adventurer’s pin. “Code means nothing if no one’s hear to see me but the undead,” she says, “Besides, I don’t think they’ll tell.” “You fucking, traitorous, bitch!” Leroy shouts. The girl just shrugs. “I can accept that,” she says flatly. Leroy draws his sword and begins to advance but…

Affliction: Insanity >> Resisted x91,227

“Leroy, we’ve got company,” I say. Pointing to the entrance. As a woman walks through. She looks… wrong. Leroy blurs to her, sword swinging down and… the woman lashes out with a kick, his armor shrieks, and caves in, I hear something snap as he’s sent back to us… broken. I instantly crouched over him. “Oh, Pharmos above I beg you, mend what is broken,” I say. The healing spell sinks into him, I hear his ribs mending with cracks, and snaps. He quickly strips off his caved-in chest plate, revealing the crushed chainmail underneath. The massive dent in the plate must have prevented him from breathing. The woman fixes her gaze on Hubert, and he goes still.

Warning >> Affliction: REDACTED Has affected party member: Hubert Nole

Warning >> Affliction: REDACTED cannot be cleansed

“Hubert’s been hit wish something I can’t tell….” I’m cut off as Hubert turns and slams his shield into Killian. Killian screams, as he is battered to the ground, Emiline runs to him. “Hubert, what’s….” She begins but is cut off as the lich fires a beam of darkness at her. Leroy gets up and calls to Emiline. “Em, on me,” he says. “Yes,” she says. As they speed towards the woman. I level my staff at the woman and cast a fireball. It speeds to her, over Leroy and Emiline, and the woman bats it out of her way with an errant hand. I quickly turn to Hubert. And chant a cleansing spell.

Target: Hubert Nole >> is afflicted with REDACTED

REDACTED cannot be cleansed while source is intact

I watch in horror as Killian screams as Hubert brings his massive shield down on him. I hear breaking bones. I run to Hubert, screaming at him begging him to stop. Then I hear another sound, metal tearing, and a scream of agony as the woman tears Leroy’s leg clean off, then immediately uses it to batter Emiline. And it’s at that moment that I knew… Leroy would die, I couldn’t restore his leg, and even if I could… I was too far to do anything. He would be dead before I got there. I was petrified, as I hear Hubert bring the shield down on Killian again, he’s screaming in agony. His body twisted and broken. Only alive because, in crushing Killian, Hubert also bust several healing potions, the healing working only to prolong Killian’s suffering. Even so, his bones are shattered, and Hubert brings the shield down again and again and again. And he’s laughing, a manic grin on his face. I… I… I know what I have to do. I aim my staff at Hubert… and fire an ice bolt, the frozen spike piercing the back of his head and spraying blood everywhere. I run to Killian, and cast healing on him, I hear his bones cracking back into place, he’s unconscious, but alive. Those two massive healing spells have drained my mana almost to the last drop. I look at Hubert, and swiftly look away. I turn back to the woman and see…. Leroy’s other leg is missing, and both arms are twisted beyond what I can repair, I don’t have any more mana potions. Emiline is sitting on the ground laughing insanely as she stabs a dagger into her own stomach. I watch as she dies. Then… it’s only me. The woman walks over to me, and I stand leveling my staff at her, as if I have any mana to use it. She isn’t even looking at me. Suddenly she’s gone, my eyes say teleportation, but the wind says she just moves that fast. I hear a sick crunching from behind me, I turn and see her caving in Killian’s skull with her foot.

That’s it… it’s over. I watched as she butchered the most important people in my life. One of Emiline’s daggers is jutting from her side, but that’s it. The wound isn’t even bleeding. I fall to my knees. Tears in my eyes. I… I was the healer… I was supposed to save them, I was… I was… I. I watched them all die around me… helpless to do anything. I let the staff slip from my fingers, but it doesn’t fall. The woman… no, the monster catches it. Flips it over in one hand and….

Party Leader: Saria Lionheart >> has been removed from the party

Party >> has been disbanded

I watch as the lich splatters the contents of the healer’s skull all across the walls with her own staff. The staff snapped with the sheer force of the swing. Well, so much for that escape attempt, I sigh. If only they were stronger, they would’ve been able to get me out of here. I leap down from the throne. I still need to pee, I think glumly.

00002: SHE GETS A CONSCIENCE

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