《Lv.1 Lich》 Chapter 1: Death Lv.1 Lich
Chapter 1: Death I awoke in the dark to screaming. Metal rang on stone and ceramic shattered. I got up with a start, or tried to. I was pinned to my bed by my chest. Flailing my arms, I strained to untangle myself from the covers. Except¡­ there were no covers, there was no bed. Beneath me was a hard, marble-slab floor; whose cold touch was only diminished by the hot, sticky liquid which surrounded me. Icy hands gripped my heart, banishing the last of my sleep. By the light of a dying candle, I looked down at myself. A knife handle stuck straight up from my chest, right above my heart. Panicking, I reached for the thing, trying to pull it out. ¨C Two hundred years ago I discovered a magical pendant, which could heal someone from any injury - so long as it consumed aurum. I had attached a spatial enchantment to it, containing several tons of pure gold. It should be able to save me; if I can only get this damn knife out. Wiggling the weapon back and forth rapidly, I was able to dislodge it from the mortar and yank it free. I expected pain - but there was none. I was in shock, I must have been. Something I had read about, but never experienced in over a thousand years of life. I let out a breath; trying to calm myself. Now that the blade was out, I would heal. I couldn¡¯t believe that I wasn¡¯t already dead! Something to think about later, right now I was too frazzled. Where am I? This was not my room; my floor was not marble, my drapes were not velvet, I had no four-poster bed. I hadn¡¯t used such opulent furniture in over eight hundred years, the other magi had thought me an arrogant arse. A shudder of embarrassment ran down my spine. Stop! I was mentally rambling. Taking another breath, I returned to the question at hand. Where was I? Images came to me in a rush, I was in a guest room at the palace. The king had asked for my aid. I could have ignored him and remained in my Tower: the last time I had done so, one of his predecessors increased the price of all my magical supplies. Although, that might have been because of the civil war he was so worried about. Being an Archmagus, I hardly concerned myself with worldly affairs. I was in need of spell components, so I thought I¡¯d drop by. I was regretting that now! I should be healed, so I climbed to my feet. My movements, jerky and imprecise. What could one expect after such a rude awakening? The light was flickering. I looked toward its source: a candle on its side; surrounded by the remains of a teapot, the tea slowly encroaching on the flame. I lurched over to the door, cursing whomever ruined my cotton pyjamas as I fumbled with the candle. Eventually, I managed to put it back in the holder, on the side table. Now that the panic had fully subsided, faster than I would have expected - but no matter, I was able to turn my analytical eye to the scene I found myself in. Looking at the bed - it was ruffled and blankets were pulled in the direction of the puddle - nay, veritable lake, of blood. I blanched at that. This was an assassination, clearly. I had cast a protective ward around my bed, it remained undisturbed, but the lesser ward about my person had been completely dispelled. That took quite some doing, looking at the knife in my hand, I could see how: a ward breaking enchantment was placed on it. Not only was it powerful but it was keyed to my exact ward. I had tweaked the spell over the years, making many improvements. The power of the weapon implied only another Archmagus could have created it, or, perhaps, a master enchanter - but they wouldn¡¯t have been able to key it to my spell. This was someone I knew, perhaps the Archmagus of The Black Tower? He seemed overly interested in my componentless magic research. No, this must have been done by someone with close ties to the kingdom as it was still the middle of the night and a maid had brought tea! Either she was in on it or was sent to discover the body. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Luckily for me, I had told no one about my pendant. I reached around my neck for comfort. Nothing was there, my neck was bare. Before I could think much on it, through the open door I heard the jingle of armour followed by the pounding of feet. Finally, someone is here. I stuck my head out the door. At the end of the hall, I could see torchlight rounding the corner. An armoured man with a plumed helm locked eyes with me. I called out to him, trying to say, ¡°everything is fine,¡± but all that came forth was a low groan, the call of death. The sergeant''s face went white as he drew his sword. ¡°Zombie!¡± he called before rushing toward me, the other half-dozen men following suit. I wrenched myself back into the room. What the hell is happening? I thought, struggling with the latch, my fingers thick and heavy. I locked it just in time. A moment later the wood cracked under the charge of a stampeding officer. Drawing a diamond from my storage ring, then doing so twice more before my rigoured hands could hold it, I cast a hardening spell. That will only buy me a little time, I have to get out of here! Remaining in a logical frame of mind, I squashed down any sliver of emotion. Reaching, again, for my neck, I still found no pendant. My hand fumbled lower; to the wound in the centre of my chest. I was dead¡­ dead. Despite my best efforts, I turned catatonic - this time truly in shock. Only drawn out of myself by the banging and shouting which continued on the other side of the door. Shit! I thought, it was all I could think. The undead were a plague on this world, the enemy of all life. Even Archmagi, who were banned from participating in wars between the six civilised kingdoms, were expected to act if undead were in their territory. No, it was worse than that. I could still use magic, I could still think. That made me a Lich. ¨C Whenever a powerful magic user dies there is a near infinitesimal chance that they can become a Natural Lich. A Synthetic Lich, usually a witch or wizard without the power to use the Archmagi¡¯s life-extending spells, would leave this world if their SoulJar were destroyed. A Natural Lich was much worse, they would be hunted by all the magi. They... we¡­ didn''t die when our phylactery, or body in my case, was destroyed. Having taken control of my soul after death, even though not consciously, I would do so again. I couldn''t pass on unless my soul was destroyed, then there would be nothing left of me. Shit! I needed to return to my Tower and disappear before the others found out. I was not going to let a little death part me from my research. Ignoring the splintering door-frame, I summoned the ingredients for a teleportation spell. I only needed to hold the spell¡¯s foci in my hand, so I let the rest of the components fall to the tiled floor:
  1. An onyx: to represent the aspect of space.
  2. A marked candle: to represent the distortion of time.
  3. The hair of a spatial owl: to increase the cast speed.
  4. The eyes of a mirage mole: to see the target location.
  5. The bark of an everlasting oak: to protect the living from dissipation.
  6. Finally, a piece of my Tower¡¯s carpet
  7. (no, I dropped it),
  8. a chunk of brick,
  9. (nope, that one too),
  10. a lion¡¯s head knocker: to represent my Tower
  11. (not quite, but I could make it work... probably).
Internally chanting the arcane words and focusing the weave around a point two feet in front of me, I cast the spell. A flickering portal grew before me, starting from the size of a pea and growing to that of a man in seconds. Something was wrong however, the edges fluctuated in and out of reality. The image of my room, superimposed with that of a dungeon - static filled the view. This wouldn¡¯t do, I needed a better foci. Teleportation may be the most difficult spell yet discovered, and I was working with less than half the proper ingredients - and no inscription - but this was just embarrassing. Before I could so much as think of cancelling the spell, the door flew off its hinges under another charge and the hardened projectile sent me tumbling toward the portal. In the blink of an eye, I was able to do two things: first, I dropped the foci, the portal would shatter if it went through. Then, I screamed. As soon as I entered the tear in reality, I knew something had gone terribly wrong. It wasn¡¯t because: instead of my Tower, I found myself in a pitch black void; the only light coming from a still-open portal. It wasn¡¯t because: the look of triumph on the guards¡¯ faces was swiftly replaced by fear, as shapeless forms streamed past me and into the material plane. It wasn¡¯t even because: of the popping sound the portal made as it snapped shut, less than a second later. No, the only thing that occupied my mind was pain! Soul scraping, world ending, Pain! I would have convulsed, if the nothingness which surrounded me didn''t hold me tight; devouring me piece, by tiny, piece. My pallid skin dissolved before my eyes. Thankfully, I couldn¡¯t see the rest of the process - my eyes melting shortly thereafter, leaving me with nothing but agony before, that too, evaporated; all I knew was darkness. Chapter 2: Undeath Chapter 2: Undeath I awoke, to my surprise, without any pain. Without any sensation whatsoever. Is this death? I thought to myself. I didn¡¯t expect a response. I was surprised when, out of the darkness, came green text:
-------------------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to World: BCT-175 Local Designation: Cosmo-Osto Enter Name:__________________ --------------------------------------------------------------------
I didn¡¯t even have time to reply before more of the strange text appeared.
-------------------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to world BCT-175 Local Designation: Cosmo-Osto Enter Name:__________________ Information Detected, Loading¡­ Name: Osseus Title: *Archmagus* ******************************=|ERROR|=***************************** ERROR: Title Invalid: User - Osseus - does not possess the required class: Mage, Wizard, Witch, Sorcerer or Warlock. Resolution: New Title Created, Designation: Archmagus(ish) ******************************************************************** --------------------------------------------------------------------
Honestly, I felt rather insulted by the last.
-------------------------------------------------------------------- Name: Osseus Title: Archmagus(ish) Race: *Human* - ERROR - *Zombie* - ERROR - Skeleton Class: N/A - ERROR: must have Class - Class assigned: Lich System Initialising: please hold¡­ --------------------------------------------------------------------
Completely baffled, I was only able to stare as the last line repeated.
-------------------------------------------------------------------- System Initialisation complete. Race Skills and Class Spells have been assigned. Have a nice day! --------------------------------------------------------------------
With the last message, the world went white and a rushing noise surrounded me. ? I awoke, for the third time in as many hours, to the clanging of metal on stone. Knowing where this was going I shot up, to find myself, yet again, in a room I didn¡¯t recognise. I looked around. Nothing, I was alone; locked up. My feet clacked across the floor as I paced. The room was some kind of cell with rusted metal fittings and a rotted wooden door. What in the name of the three laws of magic is happening? I thought, desperately. Nothing was making any sense. I had been assassinated, an Archmagus who¡¯s spent most of his life researching new magical methods and hadn¡¯t involved himself in politics. Hell, I hadn''t even seen another living being in over a hundred years - before I went to the capital. Sometimes I would get carried away in my work. Then, I had resurrected as a Natural Lich, an occurrence so rare that the last recorded case happened before I was born, over one thousand years ago. I clattered to the ground in the corner of the barren room, my fingers massaging my pterions. After that I had entered an unstable portal, a dangerous proposition to be sure - but normally the spell would protect one from falling into other realms, such as the abyss. I should have just been spat out in a random location. What went wrong? I wondered, staring up at the damp and mouldy stone ceiling. Of course, I thought as it struck me: The bark of an everlasting oak, it was meant to protect anything living, by that point I was already dead. If anything, the addition of such a material guaranteed an unsafe journey. I sat up straighter, at least able to solve one of the many pressing mysteries. Next I had somehow survived being dissolved within the abyss, a realm notorious for destroying anything it came in contact with. Looking down at my body, or lack thereof, I learned why. ¨C Years earlier, I had discovered that most failed spell creations ended with an explosion, and, that broken bones take far too long to heal; even with magical intervention. Although my wards could protect me from direct harm; they could not stop the kinetic force completely, so I had spent twenty years slowly reinforcing and inscribing my bones with layer upon layer of magical protection. The ingredients I used alone would be enough to buy a small country, but if it saved me even a second between failed experiments it was worth it. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Still, despite that - what remained of my skeleton was yellow and beginning to chip, with only the black lines of runes breaking up the shape. I was beyond surprise at this point, so I just decided to go with it. Frankly I was rather impressed with myself for managing to create anything that could hold up to the abyss, although none of my spatially enchanted rings or other artefacts survived. Looking at the aforementioned runes, another question struck me: How can I see? I have no eyes. I could still feel the hot white fluid dripping out of my sockets and down my cheek. Come to think of it, the green text had said my race was skeleton. I had, of course, come across many undead skeletons in my life, although I had never had the opportunity to study their means of sight. ¡°Was it some sort of innate Skill of the undead?¡± I wondered aloud. At the word ¡°Skill¡± a blue, translucent window appeared before me.
Status
Name: Osseus ?
Title: Archmagus(ish): ?
Race: Skeleton: ?
Class: Lich ?
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ?
Skills: 3 -- SP - 0 ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.1 The undead have a natural hatred for all life, without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher levels Undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Levelling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense.
Bone Claws: Lv.1 Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie, making their attacks weaker but their bodies far faster, slashing and piercing weapons are an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Levelling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws.
Bone Articulation: Lv.1 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a one¡¯s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Levelling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate.
Passive Skills/Abilities:
Magically Reinforced Bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptism in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands any chance of damaging them. Be warned this does not increase the strength of your bones'' connections.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase skill levels.
Spells: 1 ?
Attributes: AP - 0 ?
Huh? Was all thought as I pressed my distal phalanx straight through the illusion with no resistance. I turned my head from side to side; the window remained directly in front of me. What was this thing? I had never heard of the like, some sort of diagnostic spell combined with an illusion perhaps? But no, I could sense no magic emanating from it, fascinating. Metal clanged once more outside my cell door. looking up, I saw nothing so I returned to the blue window. Except it had vanished without a trace. Thinking quickly, I spoke, ¡°Skills,¡± and to my delight it reappeared. Studying the Skills written I had some testing to do; desiring confirm this manifestation''s veracity. If my newfound sight worked as described, I should be able to see the moss¡¯s life force, growing as it was, in the cracked walls. Closing my non-existent eyes to focus, which somehow still blinded me, I looked only at the moss. Sure enough, if I blurred my vision, the resolution dropped and I could see only a glowing gold mass wherever the moss sprouted. Not only that, but I discovered it grew through to the other side. Letting out a bone chilling breath, I released the Skill, Life Sense. It was strangely difficult to reduce my sight to such a quality, but it did grant me the ability to see through walls. Wanting to test the Skill further, I stared closely at a patch of bare stone, and, to my delight, there were indeed tiny specimens of living matter; gathered closely around the damper areas. When I got closer, the colour I had seen as grey - from a distance - changed to gold. Retreating, the larger picture still appeared to be grey stone. The effect was rather enthralling, I spent the next few minutes moving forward and back, trying to understand how it worked. Eventually, I was forced to admit that I wouldn¡¯t be able to understand this phenomenon at the moment. Instead, I tried another of the ¡°Skills¡±, Bone Claws. With but a thought, the phalanges of my right hand lengthened; sharpening into wicked points. Another effect that used no magic, to my eye. I was fascinated. The keenness of the weapons, combined with my bone¡¯s innate hardness, allowed me to easily scratch into the stonework - although I lacked the Strength to penetrate very far. Returning to my pacing, I postulated aloud: ¡°Perhaps my lesser Strength has some connection to the System I saw before.¡± As I had secretly hoped, something new appeared at my words.
Status
Name: Osseus ?
Title: Archmagus(ish): ?
Race: Skeleton: ?
Class: Lich ?
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ?
Skills: 3 -- SP - 0 ?
Spells: 1 ?
Attributes: AP - 0 ¨‹
Strength: 3 (-1) Strength determines how hard one hits, how much force one can exert and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 6 (+3) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Undead Charisma debuff only applies if both parties are aware of the fact)
Perception: 8 Perception affects reaction speed and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 20 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
¡°One Spell?¡± I questioned, indignant. At my words, that section expanded.
Status
Name: Osseus ?
Title: Archmagus(ish): ?
Race: Skeleton: ?
Class: Lich ?
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ?
Skills: 3 -- SP - 0 ?
Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.1 By folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point; one can create a projectile of necrotizing energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Attributes: AP - 0 ?
My indignation only deepened at this. Everyone knew that any spell required material components, it was one of the three laws of magic for arcane¡¯s sake! I had tried contorting my mana in any number of ways, the method above included, but never to any effect. Not without spell components. Before I could rant to myself about such a ludicrous idea, the door to my cell was kicked in. A brute of a zombie dragging a massive hammer saw me and screeched in an ungodly voice before charging. Shit! Chapter 3: Temptations of the Flesh Chapter 3: Temptations of the Flesh My first thought was to use the air around me as the material for a wind blade spell. It would be horribly inefficient and require a ridiculous amount of my mana to function. Luckily I wasn¡¯t forced to waste my power as the Zombie''s hammer caught in a hole in the floor, yanking him backward; laying him out flat on his face. Given a moment to prepare, I decided now would be a perfect time to perform some more tests! This System was undoubtedly a wonder but I wasn¡¯t going to trust what it said blindly. The brute was struggling back to his feet so I darted in, dodging his clumsy grasp, and sliced his achilles tendons with my Bone Claws - leaving him crawling on the ground wailing. I stuck my head out the door, finding a hallway filled with cells but no other signs of life, or unlife. Returning to my test subject, I began the manipulation of my mana, as designated by the System''s Spell description. Whenever I tried a new spell, I would always ensure the ingredients were laid out neatly and that my mana was manipulated in a slow and steady manner. Although the first part didn¡¯t apply, I saw no reason to change my process. Ignoring the undead creature as it slowly made its way towards me, I followed the instructions the Spell had laid out. First, I folded the gaseous mana in my right carpels over itself once; holding it in position with my mind before spinning it clockwise about the mana¡¯s centre and along the plane of my hand. When the momentum was great enough to maintain rotational velocity, I began condensing the mana construction. Once It had reached the size of a wine cork, some innate sense the System gave me said,¡±done¡±. It had been subtly guiding me through this process and, while I could ignore it, I didn''t. Since the System was the one insisting such a componentless spell was possible; why would I interfere? I released the projectile. I expected a spinning ball of magic, invisible to mundane eyes, to strike the target: after losing most of its energy to the ambient mana. If I were lucky, it may disrupt the zombie¡¯s mana pathways. To say I was surprised at what happened next would be the understatement of a century. For the briefest instant, I felt a connection to another plane; one somewhere between the ethereal and chaotic, one I had never felt before. In less than the blink of an eye it was gone and my mana had taken a physical form. Looking like a black misty nebula as it shot across the intervening space. A direct violation of the first law of magic. As the energy travelled, it slowly began to unravel; growing larger and less well controlled. When it struck the target, it splashed across his skin - covering an area about the size of my hand. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The already decaying flesh quickly started to enter putrefaction, then black putrefaction, leaving a section of its torso as little more than a dark puddle on the floor. Apparently, this creature could feel pain, judging by the spine tingling roar it gave off. I disregarded it, I was simply too excited, bouncing on the tips of my lower phalanges. I couldn¡¯t wait to get researching. Over the course of the next hour, I discovered a number of things: Firstly, increasing the mana given to the Spell amplified whatever effect it created. Secondly, increasing the speed of rotation reduces the amount of mana lost to the environment; reducing the area of effect slightly, and increases the speed of the projectile. Thirdly, the direction of spin has no observable effect on the result. Fourthly, the density of the mana in the compression stage affects the area of effect greatly and slightly affects the duration, and thus the distance the Spell travels. When I tried adding ten percent of my total mana to the Spell, folding it seven times, spinning eight vortexes in the same space, oriented in different planes, and compressed to the point of a needle; I created a black dot that shot through the putrefied skull of the zombie and continued straight through the stone floor, leaving only dust and a hole I couldn¡¯t see the bottom of. Using the Spell like that took far too long to set up and took too much mana, although I could regain it in about ten minutes. That was an eternity in a fight. When I killed the creature, a series of blue windows appeared on their own for the first time. Congratulations: Before I got a chance to truly examine my winnings, a new sound broke my concentration. Now that the zombie''s insistent wailing had ceased, I could make out whistling coming down the empty hallway. Forever curious, I decided to follow the cheery tune and examine the System¡¯s changes on the way. I took my first step outside the prison cell. Status 1.0
Status 1.0
Name: Osseus ?
Title: Archmagus(ish): ¨‹
Archmagus(ish): Unique With the knowledge and experience one hundred times that of a common mage and the power to match one is granted the Title of Archmagus. Lacking experience in this world''s magic, and with power still to be tested, one (and only one) is granted the title Archmagus(ish). This Title grants: | 20 10 Intelligence | 20 10 Willpower | 20 10 Wisdom |
Spell Slinger: Common Able to cast with the most basic of proficiency, a Spell Slinger may be a novice mage or spell sword. This Title grants: | 2 Intelligence | 1 Willpower |
Savant: Uncommon Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells, you got off to a promising start. This Title grants: | +10% experience gain in Lich Class |
You currently have 1 Title slot(s) available
Race: Skeleton: ¨‹
Human Humans are one of the most prolific breeders in all the land. They come in a wide variety of colours and creeds and are able to take nearly any class and profession but have no innate talents for any. They are a short lived species of average height, not able to live more than a century without magical aid. Humans gain: | +10% Xp |
Zombie Zombies are the most common form of undead and can be made from most of the living races. They are known for they¡¯re lacking intelligence and undying strength and tenacity. Zombies gain. | +10 Strength | -10 Intelligence | Ravenous |
Skeleton Skeletons are an advanced form of undead, usually evolved from zombies. They typically have slightly more intelligence and agility and are harder to kill. Skeletons gain: | + 3 agility | -1 strength | Life Sense | Bone Claws | Bone Articulation |
Changing Race is incredibly uncommon and only usually happens as the result of a drastic physical change or magical mishap.
Class: Lich ¨‹
Lich: Rare Lv. 5 The Lich class has three requirements: 1. A Lich must have had a magic based class in life. 2. A Lich must be Undead. 3. A Lich¡¯s soul must have been detached from their body and attached to an item (this item can be the aforementioned body but it can also be changed). If the Lich class is available it is taken automatically. If all class slots are full it will replace your lowest Lv. class. Liches use magic as their main form of attack, focusing on the death, poison, or elemental schools. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ¨‹
No professions are currently available. Demonstrate aptitude in a given field to unlock a profession or apprentice under a Master. Three Profession slots are open.
Skills: SP - 2 (Available Skills) ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.1 The undead have a natural hatred for all life. Without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher levels undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Leveling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense.
Bone Claws: Lv.1 Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie making their attacks weaker; but their bodies are far faster making slashing and piercing weapons an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Leveling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws.
Bone Articulation: Lv.1 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a skeleton''s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Leveling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate.
Passive skills:
Magically reinforced bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptisum in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands a chance of damaging them. Be warned, this does not increases the strength of your bones'' connections.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase skill levels.
Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.10 (max) Folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point one can create a projectile of necrotizing energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Attributes: AP - 5 ¨‹
Strength: 3 (-1) Strength determines how hard one hits, how much force one can exert, and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 6 (+3) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Charisma and its effects are inverted among the undead.)
Perception: 8 Perception affects reaction speeds and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 20 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
Chapter 4: [interlude] An Infernal Comedy Chapter 4: An Infernal Comedy Dante was born to a loving mother with little means and a father she always claimed died in the last war. Dante had heard the rumours - that he was the bastard of the local lord. Heard them and dismissed them, he was content to believe his mother¡¯s story. Growing up, he was regarded as a good if naive boy, he wasn¡¯t, he just chose to see the best in people. It was what his mother had taught him after all. He had always shown an interest in music so when it came time for him to apprentice or study, his mother insisted he join the Bard¡¯s college. Fearing that she wouldn¡¯t have enough to feed herself, he agreed - so long as he could be permitted to work at the local tavern. The Inn keep was a grumpy man at the best of times. Dante understood, it was a very busy tavern of course he was stressed. He understood when he was short on his pay, the old man had a family to feed after all. He understood when the other serving staff insisted he cleaned the latrines and dealt with the more rowdy customers, no one wanted to do those jobs so if he did it he could help the others and maybe they¡¯d want to befriend him. Perhaps he was naive. He understood when he ended up working the longest hours, always preparing before the day shift and cleaning in the nights. Even though it meant he was never awake enough for his classes and didn''t have the time to practise. The others were also studying, mainly with the banker''s guild and he would never wish for anyone''s money to be mishandled, their explanation made sense. One day the lord came down from his manor to drink and eat with his knights. The man had the same shiny brown hair and blue eyes as he. For the first time in his life, Dante was tempted. The lord''s hog was sitting on the side, freshly roasted, he could take it to him and meet him face to face. He quelled the temptation, he smelled of human effluent after cleaning the latrines. Barry, another of the staff, was supposed to be the only one serving the lord, he was the son of a wealthy merchant and had the correct attire. Besides, the lord was a busy man and he rarely got the time to relax with his knights; Dante would only get in the way of that. At the end of the night the boss berated Barry for taking too long to serve the lord and he pointed the finger at Dante. He was beaten so badly that he dared not return home for two days as he did not wish to scare his mother. His pay was also docked, but he understood. As it turned out, he had very little talent with the lute and even less with lyrics, his words were never embellished and he could never lie. In need of extra money Dante started spending his day off in the town square, busking. His tunes were awful but the songs always had a positive outlook, only ever knowing this town he wrote about local characters and strictly events he had witnessed personally. The music combined with his cheery disposition made people believe he was mocking them, which only made his act more successful. The crowd would jeer and laugh in equal measure. More and more would show up each week until it became a local tradition. One day, when Dante was running low on material, Barry approached him with his entrepreneurial might on full display. He was selling clothes with Dante¡¯s best lines embroidered upon them. He asked Dante to write a song about his father¡¯s main competition. He was offered gold in exchange. He was sorely tempted but he restrained his desires. Dante had never met the man, the Banker never went to the tavern so he would have no stories to tell about him. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Soon after, he ran out of songs about the locals and turned his focus towards the beauty found in nature. To the townsfolk this meant he now only played bad songs. People came to him asking for refunds for the merchandise Barry had sold under his name. The stitching was awful and the material itchy. He did his best to give what he could to the aggrieved people but he had very little. Soon he was chased from the square and banned from playing. Not long after, his mother fell ill, they needed all their money for her treatment but it still wasn¡¯t enough. He had to drop out of the Bard¡¯s college. Her illness got so severe she was too weak to feed herself. One night, while working at the tavern, some rough looking men invited him over to their table to offer him a deal. They knew he needed money and only wanted a small favour in return. The men said he should stand watch at an alley beside the bank. When he asked why; they only laughed, but when he pressed they confirmed they intended to rob the bank. Dante was more tempted than he had ever been before but still he had to refuse. His mother believed that people should do all that they can to help others, stealing from the bank would hurt the whole town. He wouldn¡¯t tell anyone about their plan as they had tried to help him. After work that day a sack was put over his head and he was knocked out. He awoke on the floor in an alley, guards were swarming and men screaming. The next thing he knew he had been arrested as an accessory to robbery. Dante¡¯s trial was swift. He had written a song about the Judge¡¯s exploits at the tavern. A patron had overheard his conversation with the thugs and said he agreed to their plan. None of the other men had been caught so the town needed a scapegoat. He was sentenced to three years in the mines. Dante spent his time trying to help the other inmates and just ended up their lackey. When he was released, he returned home. In his mothers bed lay a bone thin corpse. Since she had birthed out of wedlock she was always an outcast. No one had visited her, she had died sick, starving, and alone. For the first time he could no longer see the best in this town, but still he held to his mothers values. He would do his best to help others, just not here. He left the same day with nothing but his lute, for the frontier. There was constant danger near the Wilds so he hoped to bring a smile to those people, as he once had at home, with his music. He was still a terrible bard with little Charisma, he soon went hungry. One day he found a man alone, lying in the road. Dante rushed to his aid, turning him on his side and seeing if he was still breathing. As he did so a jingle came from a full purse on the man¡¯s waist. Dante¡¯s rumbling stomach tempted him to take it but this man''s life came first. He was indeed alive, if barely, and moving him had awoken the man. In a weak voice he begged that Dante take his coin. He told the young man that his family, who lived in the next town, were wicked. They would only waste it. Also the dying man told him that there was a conspiracy against him, that the squirrels were involved and a thousand other strange things. Still, Dante listened attentively to every word as the man grew weaker and weaker. Waiting until the man slipped into the night, he carried his remains to the next town, hoping it might bring closure to his family. He was stopped at the gate by two guards. Seeing all too well where this would go, he gently rested the man down on the ground before running off into the night. It wasn¡¯t until he entered a fort village on the farthest edge of the frontier that Dante realised he still had the man¡¯s purse. Entering the small tavern there he bought some gruel, with his own meagre savings and resolved to use the money to help as many people as he could. Dante asked at the bar if there was anyone in dire need of money. Many of the patrons looked eager but changed their tunes as the most beautiful woman Dante had ever seen approached him. She was barely dressed in red frills which contrasted her porcelain skin. She pouted and clung to his arm as she explained that she was being threatened by some scary men who demanded she pay a debt she didn¡¯t owe. She asked if a big strong man, such as himself, could possibly help her. Her touch sent shivers down his spine and her breath in his ear sent them back up again. He was tempted in a whole new way. With great reluctance, he asked that she remove herself from him. Her face blushed in anger disguised as embarrassment. The woman was surprised when Dante still agreed to help her. Following the now icy woman through the darker places in the slums, she indicated two men at the end of a dead-end road. As soon as he entered the alley two other burly men appeared behind them, she dropped the act and told Dante that she had intended to rob him. However since he had offended her beauty he must die, taking a knife from one of the men, quicker than Dante could blink she stabbed him straight through the heart. Looking upon her twisted grin he knew he should pity the woman but something in him seethed. Falling to the ground, screams rang out all around the fort. The last thing he saw was a wave of zombies attacking his killers and for once he gave into the temptation and smiled as they were torn apart before him. And thus ends Dante Ghibellines, a name that, with his last breath, he took from his father. Chapter 5: Two Can Keep a Secret Chapter 5: Two Can Keep a Secret As I walked along the hallway, cells to my right, a stone wall to my left, the tune changed from a happy melody to a chilling lament. The whistling had a weird effect, I had never known much about music but my brain told me the inconsistent tone and occasional squeaking combined to make a horrible sound. Yet my undead body responded positively to its frequency. Was this perhaps the result of the Charisma Attribute(s)? My fibulas began to skip slightly as the tune changed once more, to a depressing and bleak piece - a Danse Macabre. That was certainly an odd reaction and would require further investigation. For now, with an effort of will, I returned to walking normally - it was undignified for an Archmagus to go around skipping. The hallway I followed was circular, with the cells on the inside. By the time I came to the closed door, from which I heard the noise, I had nearly come full circle. A wall stopped me from travelling in the other direction. With a skillful use of my new Spell, Necrotising Bolt, I decayed the wood around the lock. As soon as the metal construction struck the ground, the whistling ceased. Preparing my Bone Claws, in case of a fight, I kicked open the door - much as the brute had done. On the other side of the cell, cowering behind a stringless lute, was an incredibly young, pale man with sunken cheeks, shiny brown hair, and blue eyes. I knew in my bones, this man was not alive. ¡°Who are you?¡± the man asked, ¡°You¡¯re not Pater¡¯s normal thug.¡± I blinked at him, or tried to, before answering. ¡°I don¡¯t know who this Pater is - my name is Osseus, Lich.¡± I replied, it wasn¡¯t my normal form of address but since this was my first time meeting another sentient undead, I decided to take a chance. ¡°What¡¯s a Lich?¡± he asked, honestly. My mandible was left hanging. In my life there was no one who hadn¡¯t heard of a Lich. The last true Lich lived more than twelve hundred years ago but legends of his reign of terror were just as strong today as when I was born. He had raised an undead army and taken control of half of the civilised world. It took the other half working together to finish him, hundreds of magi died. My late master had fought in that war. According to him, we were set back centuries by all the magical knowledge lost. That was why if a ¡°Lich¡± were to be sighted, every Archmagus would be expected to destroy them. ¡°Are you well?¡± he questioned earnestly, ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet a while, don¡¯t tell me I¡¯m dreaming again.¡± ¡°Quite alright,¡± I replied, rattling away my momentary speechlessness. ¡°And you are?¡± ¡°Where are my manners, my name is Dante Ghibellines, Bard¡­ I think.¡± The boy, Dante, said as he bowed gracelessly. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± I asked, raising my frontal bone. ¡°I mean, I know that I am a Bard, the System says that it¡¯s my Class. I don¡¯t know how I got it, I don¡¯t remember much before Lord Pater woke me and asked me to play for his men - in this fort.¡± Dante answered, picking up the lute he had dropped in his attempt to bow. I found what he said interesting for a number of reasons: first, others seemed to have access to this System as well, second, he was afflicted by some recollectary condition. To my knowledge, the undead couldn¡¯t be affected by mundane ailments. Then again, he was sentient and, presumably, so was this Pater character, perhaps they were vampires. I didn¡¯t know much about the creatures but from what I had read, they toed the line between life and death. ¡°What are you?¡± I asked, my curiosity piqued. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°A Bard?¡± he said, looking at me strangely. ¡°No. Your Race, boy.¡± I reiterated, as I paced around, looking him up and down, poking and prodding his lean, yet firm, body. ¡°Dante,¡± he growled, slapping my hand away, before his affable demeanour returned and he continued. ¡°I¡¯m a Revenant, someone who died with strong regrets, returned to the land of the living for revenge. At least that¡¯s what the System says. Wait, why am I telling you all this?¡± I only shrugged, before turning and walking back into the hallway. Although I had never heard of a Revenant, stories of the undead returning for revenge were common. From a cursory examination, I could tell he was different from a Zombie; when they reanimated, the spirit was damaged and left in charge of a deteriorating shell. The spiritual damage was evident with just a glance, as their internal mana channels would be completely destroyed. Dante¡¯s channels were intact, if rather small - perhaps causing his memory problems? My hypothesis would be: although his body was dead, his spirit was still whole enough to direct the body to undergo its normal functions, stopping him from rotting. I couldn¡¯t tell more at the moment as I lacked the materials for a proper diagnostic spell. Overall, not very interesting. The boy caught up to me as I marched back the way I had come. ¡°Wait, you can¡¯t just barge in then leave me,¡± Dante complained. ¡°By all means, follow me. Boy,¡± I replied, not missing a step. ¡°Dante!¡± he growled, his eyes narrowing and his teeth sharpening for a second. ¡°Where are you going?¡± he asked, when I removed my boney finger from his mouth. ¡°And why did you just do that?" he added after he had a moment to think. ¡°I don¡¯t know where I¡¯m going, somewhere where I can get lots of money - always need that for research. Then maybe I¡¯ll try to learn as much as I can about this world¡¯s magic. To answer your second question, I thought I saw something interesting,¡± I rambled. ¡°In my mouth?¡± he asked, feeling around in there himself. ¡°Yes,¡± I replied, distractedly - as we came to the end of the hallway. ¡°Here we are,¡± I proclaimed. A door I had seen earlier stood in front of us, daylight leaking from underneath. Grasping the handle firmly, I threw it open wide. The last thing I heard was a desperate cry of: ¡°Wait!¡± The darkness I found myself in was new to me. It wasn¡¯t the darkness of unconsciousness, gone in but the blink of an eye. It wasn¡¯t the darkness of night, banished with a few words and the wave of my hand. This darkness seemed dreamlike, yet weighted by reality. I was formless in the dark, but with a thought I had a body - my old living body. References and texts flashed through my mind. This was a soul space. The Archmagus of the Black Tower had an artefact, from before the undead wars, which contained a long dead mage¡¯s soul space. After the war, research into soul magic had been banned so I had no idea why they worked. How they worked was well documented. With a thought my Tower appeared before me, complete with the valley it resided in. I rushed through the doors, summoning a whale¡¯s fin from nowhere to cast a flight spell. Rushing to the top of the building, I came to the door of my research chambers. A soul space was the perfect place to conduct experiments without risk of consequence. I grasped the door handle and threw it open. In a flash, I was back in the dungeon. My head on the floor staring at my bones as they rolled along the floor towards me. I gasped reflexively as the rest of my body screwed itself into place. Congratulations: I swiped away the window with a thought; struggling groggily to my feet, shaking away the strange dream. Before I could even ask what had happened, my non-existent ears popped. Presenting me with the longest string of expletives I had heard in two hundred years. Looking up, I saw Dante hopping back and forth, clutching a limp arm. After he seemed to have worked it out of his system, and was just shouting normal words angrily, I butted in. ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, with a leaden tongue. ¡°Oh,¡± he said, somewhat sheepishly, ¡°For some reason, I really like swearing and being angry. It seems to fulfil me,¡± Dante replied with a beaming smile. ¡°Not that you dolt, the bones all over the floor and your arm and leg.¡± I spat testily, being scattered made me rather grumpy it would seem. ¡°Oh,¡± he said again, this time with understanding. ¡°It¡¯s daytime, what did you expect to happen?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen undead in the sun before, it should have just weakened me, not done whatever that was,¡± I complained, resting a hand on the, now closed, door to steady myself. Dante looked at me confused, ¡°They must have been some high Level undead, everyone knows that undead are just dead in the light of day.¡± I opened a cell that didn¡¯t contain the putrefied remains of a Zombie and slumped to the floor. ¡°Come here,¡± I instructed, ¡°It would seem that I need to know a lot more if I am to escape this dungeon.¡± Dante dutifully sat beside me and began to talk excitedly and extensively. Chapter 6: If Both of Them are Dead Chapter 6: If Both of Them are Dead Dante was a rather strange person, not that I was the best judge of character. I only ever had time for magic and the secrets of the universe. The Bard seemed incredibly helpful, kind even, but at the slightest mention of hurting Pater (someone whom he never spoke ill of) his teeth would sharpen, his eyes squint, and he would affect a devilish smile. He didn¡¯t even seem to know it was happening. This raised him slightly in my desire to research, but not greatly. I believed I knew what was causing such a thing however I couldn¡¯t call him out for it without being a hypocrite. Talking to him: I learned that the only door to the dungeon we were in, led up into a courtyard, that, until a week ago, was staffed by humans. Pater, an undead necromancer of some sort, had raised the dead from the surrounding farms and swarmed the defences, before the alarm could be raised. I knew I should feel at least a little sad at the loss of life, perhaps it was my undead body, but I only felt grateful at the turn of events. At least popping up in the middle of an undead fort I¡¯d get a chance to explain myself before being attacked. Or perhaps not. Dante went on to explain that Pater was someone who loved fighting and loved winning more. He apparently arranged regular matches between the non sentient undead for sport. A bit at odds with the personality of your regular necromancer, but not the strangest thing I¡¯d heard. Pater, apparently, respected strength above all, so we would be unable to get out of here without a fight - be it token or otherwise. When Dante had played a tune about a baker''s daughter, who was vivacious and full of life, a riot broke out amongst the lower level undead. At first, Pater cheered and celebrated the carnage, but when he saw Dante cowering under a table he ordered the Bard sent to the dungeons with his lute strings cut. The zombie brute was sent to be his guard, he was supposed to check on Dante every hour or so. Except, the beast couldn¡¯t tell the cells apart and kept barging into the wrong ones, hence our encounter. Discussing the plan for when night fell, even with all the contingencies, only took us an hour or two. I spent the rest of the time listening to Dante¡¯s singing, after some practice, and mental effort - I was able to resist the odd charming effect his music had. The sun fell after only four hours of audio torture. I stood, hearing signs of movement in the courtyard above. Cracking the door, not at all tentative, I ascended the staircase into the keep. Three walls surrounded us, circular towers on each corner. We stood in the marshalling yard, looking up at the facade of a small castle. Zombies, mixed with occasional Skeletons, came shambling out of the Towers to take positions in disorderly rows. As they moved they completely ignored us, not diverting course in the least, some walking straight through Dante, bowling him over. After ten minutes, doors opened on the second floor of the castle and a man stepped onto the balcony. His noseless face looked out triumphantly over the horde. His piercing black eyes inspected the ranks, line by line. A slender undead by his side and the zweih?nder on his back, illustrated the size of this man. The long oily black hair completed the picture of an undead conqueror. There was something odd about the woman, who stood to the left and behind him. Where Pater¡¯s mana channels had clearly been destroyed and regrown, with perhaps some assistance, the woman¡¯s seemed to have mostly survived death. I studied the woman as she kept her eyes fixed on the ground and maintained an unassuming posture. She might be a mage, but if so not a very strong one. I had no more time to consider, Pater¡¯s gaze reached the front of the ranks, Dante and I stood in a mirror of their positions. ¡°Dante, how did you get out?¡± Pater bellowed. While his tone was demanding a smile remained plastered on his face. ¡°And who¡¯s this you¡¯re hiding behind?¡± he added, the smile slipping slightly. ¡°I am Osseus, the Lich!¡± I proclaimed. I learned long ago that confidence was the best way to talk to people like this. ¡°Are you now?¡± Pater asked, as he stared straight through me. The woman behind him coughed once and he snapped back into focus. ¡°So you are!¡± he beamed, placing a hand on the railing before swinging himself over. The only one who reacted when he hit the ground with a thump, was Dante - jumping back slightly. The woman silently disappeared into the castle. ¡°I¡¯ve never fought a Rare Class before.¡± he said, looking me up and down with a hungry eye. I schooled my features to hide the discomfort I felt, before realising it was pointless. All he saw was a grinning skull. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Is it true that their Class Abilities are ten times as strong as an Uncommon?¡± he continued, advancing. That last statement had just taught me something; Pater only had a low level analytical Skill. According to Dante, the Identify Skill could (at higher levels) tell you someone''s Level and Class. Dante didn¡¯t know how he knew that, the information was just so deeply entrenched he couldn¡¯t forget it. Like speech or social faux pas. Speaking of the boy, he was hiding behind my ribcage - using it as a shield between himself and the grinning man. ¡°What say you?¡± he asked, placing an over-large hand on my shoulder. I could feel his muscles tense like a coiled spring, through my clavicle. ¡°Later,¡± I replied, keeping the confidence in my voice. ¡°I have come a long way to see the exploits of lord Pater. Able to take a living fort with so little loss of unlife, I''d love to hear the details.¡± Pater¡¯s smile widened as his grip loosened and a squeezing hand turned into a guiding arm. ¡°By all means, let me give you a tour of the place¡­ after breakfast - then perhaps a quick spar?¡± Pater asked. I only smiled at him. ¡°How did you meet this one?¡± Pater inquired, looking over his shoulder at Dante. ¡°I was on my way into the fort when I heard this young man¡¯s singing and had to investigate, one of your minions got in my way so I had to remove him. I hope you don¡¯t mind,¡± I explained, the pre prepared story tripping easily from my tongue bone. ¡°Hmm, oh it happens all the time, none of these lot have awakened yet so it doesn¡¯t really matter,¡± the large man replied as he gestured to the undead and they started taking positions on the wall, some of them following us into the castle. ¡°I did wonder why the drawbridge was lowered and the portcullis open,¡± I said, genuinely curious. ¡°Because, I welcome anyone who would attempt to take my Title, all are welcome to try,¡± Pater replied, with confidence bordering on arrogance. You have been made aware of an open Challenge: I swiped away the notification, momentarily stunned that this System had such functionality. The questions that raised. We walked through an entryway lined with arrow slits. This place was built with only one thing in mind. The decor reflected this truth. There were few displays and those that lined the walls were of a martial nature, crossed swords and the like. It truly was a wonder they had taken this place so easily. Finally, we came to a dining room equipped with a giant banquet table. The larger undead, like the one in the dungeon, had followed us - each stood behind a chair. I was assigned the seat next to the head, the woman sat opposite me and Dante to my right. As soon as Pater took a seat the woman did so too - the other undead following in unison. I wanted to ask this mysterious hooded woman if she was a mage, but Pater had spent the whole time talking about his strongest opponents and his greatest victories, be they real or imagined. Not wishing to offend, I nodded and congratulated where appropriate. Before long, the food was brought out. The undead didn¡¯t need to eat but they could gain energy by consuming life. I was thankful we were not served a plate of wriggling humans but grubs. I had spent a year of my apprenticeship stranded in the deep jungle to ¡°build character¡±, really I¡¯d just annoyed my master with too many questions. I learned a lot there, appreciating food in any form was just one of the lessons. When I placed the squirming grub between my teeth, all the life essence was sucked away, leaving only a dried husk to clatter through my bones and onto the seat. The experience was rather pleasant, like the comfort of a warm shower mixed with the invigoration of a cold one. As the silverware was truly silver, I instructed Dante to discreetly palm a fork as he squirmed away from his squirming platter. The meal was over quickly, and, as promised, Pater took me for a tour of his castle. Dante followed, mostly forgotten. Beside him, the woman from before, she walked as straight as a board and never spoke. Whenever I looked at her she seemed to flinch, ever so slightly. Now that I thought of it she had completely refused to make eye contact with me during breakfast. We soon came to the infirmary; Pater explained that he had raised the dead here from a recent disease outbreak, meaning the fort was struck from both without and within simultaneously. When I asked how a man as large and with such a strong odour as he (I didn''t say the latter) managed to infiltrate the castle¡¯s hospital without raising an alarm, he was evasive. He pointed out the latrines which he made undead swim through, the hiding place he had found in a horse manure pile near the stables, and the tunnel they had built from the moat to the marshalling yard. Although the last was completely submerged, that was no problem for those who don¡¯t breathe. The whole plan, from what I could make out, was incredibly well put together and had excellent timing. That would either require impeccable planning or some means to communicate I had not yet observed. From what I could gather of his personality, he lacked the mental acuity for the former and, from what I could see, required line of sight to command the undead. The last stop on the tour was a dirt square surrounded by the toughest looking zombies, decked out in the best armour the fort possessed. Chapter 7: Underlord Chapter 7: Underlord Pater¡¯s plan was obvious; first he showed me the carrot - the skill of this group¡¯s leader, their ability to defeat a well defended enemy, and their willingness to provide me with luxuries. Now he was showing me the stick, trying to prove that he was in charge and there wasn¡¯t anything I could do about it. It may have worked had he not just shown me all the people he¡¯d killed and resurrected. I held the title of Archmagus and that required me to fight the undead, ignoring myself and Dante for the moment. In our talks yesterday we both agreed we couldn¡¯t just leave an entrenched undead force that had already taken a human fort. Dante needed time to check everything was in place, so I would start this match only using my physical abilities. Part of me enjoyed fighting, although I would always deny it. I hadn¡¯t been in a physical fight since my apprenticeship, my Master insisted I learned to fight without magic. At the time, I thought it was foolish - few magi actually learned to fight and in the future the few wars I took part in I was in the back line dropping meteors or flooding out the enemy. Even those events were rare, most times both sides had magi, in which case their job was to ensure the other side didn¡¯t do anything. Nonetheless my master was a veteran of the most gruesome war in unliving memory and told stories of, when out of mana and without ingredients, he was forced to fight. So I learned. Although I hadn¡¯t truly used it in over eight hundred years my old bones could still remember the style. It is the fighting style of a mage, quick jabbing strikes at your opponents vitals, combined with plenty of dodging - perfect for creating distance to cast a spell. I was never supposed to contest strength against strength and grappling was off the table, even though I was taught several forms. It was the perfect form for a skeleton come to think of it. In excitement and expectation I clenched my carpels before stepping into the ring. Claws raised, I took my stance. Pater did the same, raising his sword - point aimed at my eyes. I circled so I could properly judge the distance to the sword''s tip. Pater did likewise, maintaining a head on stance. Pater¡¯s face was serious as he stared me down, having lost his earlier joviality. Pater moved first, a high lunge aimed at my head. I slipped my head to the side but the larger man abruptly stalled his momentum, before slashing from high left to low right. I was barely able to react in time, raising my claws to block, sparks flew and I was sent flying back. I landed, my sharpened toes digging into hard packed earth and slowing me. The crowd around us cheered with haunting wails, no doubt at Pater¡¯s direction. Giving me no time to recover, he lunged in again; I dodged this time, bobbing to the side to avoid the follow up slash. After I heard the strike woosh harmlessly over head I sprang up, aiming a knife hand at his solar plexus. Pater used the momentum of the slash to spin aside, receiving only a light cut to his back. While I was over extended Pater continued his spin, planting a heel kick in my ribs, sending me flying again - this time, less one rib. It was a weird feeling, my mind could sense exactly where the rib was and what condition it was in. We returned to circling, while both considered each other''s attacks. Pater was strong, far stronger than me and more agile. The only thing I had going for me was my weight, being only bones made me light - combined with my lack of a heavy weapon, I was slightly faster. Out of the corner of my orbital bone, I saw Dante raise five fingers to say half the markers were down. While I was distracted Pater took the initiative, this time coming straight in with a vertical slash. My inattention gave me no time to dodge so I raised my claws to defend my head. I held for a second before crumpling into a pile of bones. Thankfully my skeleton was mostly in one piece, so it only took a couple of seconds to rearticulate. I saw, in a flash, my tower before my vision returned to Pater laughing. The group of undead following suit in identical fashion. Pater¡¯s grip was lax, so I took the opportunity; despite his outburst he never let his eyes stray from me, so when I lunged at his heart he was ready. Stepping aside, he moved just enough to dodge my bone claws. He hadn''t seen me grabbing my rib as it rolled back towards me. The few extra inches it gave, let me score a line across his chest - drawing black blood. The laughter evaporated immediately and a flinty look replaced it. Dante was right, this man''s pride couldn¡¯t suffer any perceived loss. In the next few minutes, I learned Pater was also right. I had assumed his stories to be exaggerated braggadocio but he had the skills to back them up. He sent combo after combo at me, backed by the endless stamina of the undead. I ducked and weaved when I could and created distance when I couldn¡¯t, even so bones went flying with every engagement. I discovered that my bones could be slotted manually into place, which led to a discognisant scramble around the arena dodging strikes and reattaching flung bones. In a desperate bid to win space, I even sent a weak Necrotising Bolt at him; to my surprise he batted it aside with his sword. The weapon did seem a little tarnished where they connected, but no more. This seemed to sober him slightly from his battle frenzy. ¡°I was waiting for you to use magic, Lich is a mage class is it not?¡± Pater asked, genuinely happy. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Aren''t you a Necromancer?¡± I asked in turn. ¡°I don¡¯t need magic to win,¡± he proudly proclaimed before running back in. I returned to dodging the more measured attacks and throwing out bolts for the next thirty seconds, before the engagement was once again broken up. This time by a silver knife flying over the heads of the undead and burying itself in the dirt. Pater stepped back and shouted, ¡°Who dares interrupt my fight!¡± However his look of derision turned on me as I darted for the knife. ¡°Face it Osseus, you can¡¯t beat me.¡± Pater scoffed. ¡°I have a proposal for you.¡± I spat, holding tight to the silverware. Getting a pummelling had not done wonders for my pride. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± Pater responded, loosening his guard, a cocky look on his face. ¡°I will hit you with my strongest spell. If you can withstand it you win, if you can¡¯t - I do.¡± I offered. ¡°Why would I agree to that?¡± Pater probed. ¡°Because if you win I swear to serve you, you could use a mage in your number.¡± I responded. Pater grinned before agreeing, ¡° I¡¯ve seen your spells mage, nothing you throw at me will get past my Deflection Skill.¡± The System tried to notify me of something but I ignored it. I sighed internally, it had been a gamble to play on his pride but I would need time to voice the incantation. The spell I had set up with Dante¡¯s help was one of my own devising, it used a simple silver foci and stone markers. We had alternatives in mind but thankfully, we were able to find the silver required; originally the spell called for intricately diagramed stone tablets, put at ten distinct locations. It was my spell though, so I could make do with a radius of pebbles. The spell used simple ingredients so was limited to simple effects, in theory, but lightning was considered a simple effect and I could use it for any number of things. A lesser known fact is that silver is the best conductor of lightning. The first part of the minute long chant, channelled my mana into the surrounding area - gathering the ambient lightning that existed in all things. The second part, concentrated and amplified the effect with mana. The third part, used the lightning force in all things to disassemble the silver knife into a ball of silver gas. Then I used my hand to simultaneously cast an air spell, using the air as a component. I dispersed the silver dust throughout the area Dante had marked. Casting it this way took twenty five percent of my mana but I maintained my focus on the verbal spell. By this point Pater was looking nervous but his pride held his tongue. The final part of the spell took the charge I had been building and in an instant sent it sparking through all of the silver particles, with the power of a lightning strike. One moment the courtyard was dark with silver smoke, the next it was as if a purple sun had risen. I was able to pour half of my mana into the working before it came to the brink of collapse. The sudden explosion of lightning was so strong that a shockwave was sent out with me at its epicentre. Thankfully the only thing that bothered my magically reinforced bones was the sound of the ear splitting boom and crackling lightning. When the smoke cleared, all that was left was piles of ash and Dante, outside of the spell¡¯s radius; looking battered, shook, and afeared. I could only smile as I wiped the soot from my bones and I let the System''s notifications appear. Congratulations: New Class spells, skills, and abilities available. Status 2.0
Status 2.0
Name: Osseus ?
Titles: Archmagus(ish)... : ¨‹
Archmagus(ish): Unique With the knowledge and experience one hundred times that of a common mage with the power to match one is granted the Title of Archmagus, lacking experience in this worlds magic and with power still to be tested one (and only one) is granted the title Archmagus(ish). This Title grants: | 20 10 Intelligence | 20 10 Willpower | 20 10 Wisdom |
Spell Slinger: Common Able to use the most basic of proficiency, a Spell Slinger may be a novice mage or spell sword. This Title grants: | 2 Intelligence | 1 Willpower |
Savant: Uncommon Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to a promising start. This Title grants: | +10% experience gain in Lich Class |
Lord of Far-Reach Fort: Knight [locked] This is a lord title and grants the owner access to the settlement system. If owned this title is automatically selected but takes no title slots. This title grants: | acsess to the settlement system at Knight rank |
You currently have 3 Title slot(s) available
Race: Skeleton: ¨‹
Human Humans are one of the most prolific breeders in all the land. They come in a wide variety of colours and creeds and are able to take nearly any class and profession but have no innate talents for any. They are a short lived species of average height, not able to live more than a century without magical aid. Humans gain: | +10% Xp |
Zombie Zombies are the most common form of undead and can be made from most of the living races. They are known for they¡¯re lacking intelligence and undying strength and tenacity. Zombies gain. | +10 Strength | -10 Intelligence | Ravenous |
Skeleton Skeletons are an advanced form of undead, usually evolved from zombies. They typically have slightly more intelligence and agility and are harder to kill. Skeletons gain: | + 3 agility | -1 strength | Life Sense | Bone Claws | Bone Articulation |
Changing Race is incredibly uncommon and only usually happens as the result of a drastic physical change or magical mishap.
Class: Lich ¨‹
Lich: Rare Lv. 21 The Lich class has three requirements: 1. A Lich must have had a magic based class in life. 2. A Lich must be Undead. 3. A Lich¡¯s soul must have been detached from their body and attached to an item (this item can be the aforementioned body but it can also be changed). if the Lich class is available it is taken automatically. If all class slots are full it will replace your lowest Lv. class. Lich¡¯s use magic as their main form of attack, focusing on the death, poison, or elemental schools.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ¨‹
No professions are currently available. Demonstrate aptitude in a given field to unlock a profession or apprentice under a Master. Three Profession slots are open.
Skills: SP - 0 ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.3 The undead have a natural hatred for all life, without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher level Undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Leveling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense.
Bone Claws: Lv.4 Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie making their attacks weaker but their bodies are far faster making slashing and piercing weapons an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Leveling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws.
Bone Articulation: Lv.5 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a skeleton''s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Leveling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate.
Identify: Lv.1 User can Identify the level, up to ten levels above themselves. At higher levels one can learn the targets highest leveled class, profession, title, even approximate health and stamina.
Passive skills:
Magically reinforced bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptised in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands a chance of damaging them. Be warned this does not increases the strength of your bones'' connections.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase skill levels.
Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.10 (max) Folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point one can create a projectile of necrotizing energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Learned Spells:
Wind Breath: Basic Lv.1 Melding ones mana with the air round them allows one to create small gusts of wind. Sutable for moving small objects. The strength and accuracy of the spell is increased with each level.
Shocking Aura: Advanced Lv.1 Pulsing ones mana in and out of their skin rapidly creates an electrical aura. The power and radius of the aura are increased with level.
Attributes: AP - 0 ¨‹
Strength: 8 (-1) Strength determines how hard one hits, and how much force one can exert and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 10 (+3) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Charisma and its effects are inverted among the undead.)
Perception: 10 Perception affects reaction speeds and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 (+1) Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 30 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
Chapter 8: [interlude] Alma Chapter 8: Alma Alma was a good girl, or so she would have you believe. Born to a mother she¡¯d never met and a father she¡¯d never known, she had little by the way of role models - only the Church. A Church who outwardly promised salvation, helped raise orphans, and fed the homeless. Behind closed doors however it was that same church; who ransomed people¡¯s afterlives so much that many of the common folk went hungry. That same Church who beat any orphan under their care that could not raise enough, through pity, to line the pockets of their ¡°guardians¡±. They could not get away with this in small communities but in the capital city people are all too willing to turn a blind eye. Raised in such an environment, what could one reasonably expect of Alma and others like her. Money donated for the care and education of orphans would mysteriously go missing, leaving her with less than enough food and most of a roof over her head. As a result when she was twelve, she learned the noble art of thievery, and when she was thirteen she learned to steal from people with an innocent smile on her face. This drastically reduced the number of beatings and for a time she could sustain herself. However the once overlooked little girl, who couldn¡¯t have possibly taken your wallet, became ever more attention grabbing. After several close calls at the age of sixteen she found herself hiding in the back room of a brothel. When the madam caught her there, to her surprise she wasn¡¯t chased off, beaten, or forced to work. Instead she was taught how she might leverage her natural assets and get away clean, so began the career of one of Cosmo-Osto¡¯s premier conwomen. Or so she reckoned. Leaving the orphanage at eighteen, she used her growing wealth to start a loan shark business, aimed at gullible young magical apprentices. With several of her fellow orphans acting as muscle. When one boy defaulted and surrendered a spell tome she was ecstatic. Spell tomes are rare enough to begin with and never come into the hands of commoners unless they are apprentices. At first she was excited for the potential for profit but when she opened the tome she was excited for a whole new reason. The System told her she had enough of an affinity with water mana to learn the intermediate Water Whip spell so she used the tome immediately, turning it to dust. The magic of the book placed the knowledge of how to use the spell in her mind. In secret she practised the spell in as many ways as she could imagine and soon she craved more. However before she could hatch any plan to acquire more, a rival gang claimed her business. They had paid off her body guards, catching her alone in an alley. It was thanks to her secrecy that she survived, unleashing Water Whip after Water Whip on the unsuspecting thugs. After getting away with her life she was forced to leave the city for a time, waiting for things to blow over. An unsanctioned use of magic like that would be thoroughly investigated, even in the poorer districts. Perhaps especially. She spent the next six months wandering the towns around the capital, scamming here and defrauding there. Always leaving before anything could come of it. One day, on a lonely road, she came across an elderly man, crawling. Weakened and sickened from poison, he claimed. He offered his bag, filled with his most prized possessions; if she could get help from a crown agent codenamed the Squirrel in the nutsack inn, in the capital. She promised to tell them that the Aquilae family had betrayed the crown. She knew she could sell such information to the crown for a high price. She was about to swipe the man¡¯s coin purse when, looking in the bag, she saw two spell tomes. Upon inquiring she discovered that, in his youth, this man was an adventurer and had discovered these precious books when exploring a ruin in the wilds. He had apparently kept them as when he had picked one up it was held at such an angle to deflect an incoming arrow, saving him from an ambush. Alma quickly left, claiming she would head straight to the Nutsack, in reality she found a secluded spot along the road, she took out the books. The books didn¡¯t appear as the normal brown leather of a spell tome, at least what she assumed was normal from the one she had seen. These books had hardened covers, with the appearance of necrotising flesh. Despite their unsettling appearance her lust for magical power drove her to open them. The first was a basic Unholy Spark spell which could create a flame that only burned living flesh. Unfortunately she lacked the affinity with fire mana to learn the spell. Casting the ominous text aside she examined the second. The second was a spell called Blood Manipulation, an intermediate blood spell that allowed one to manipulate spilled blood in an area around them. Thankfully her affinity for water translated to one of blood. Accepting the prompt she was inundated with knowledge, where the last tome had melded seamlessly with her memories, this one forced its way in and sat heavy upon her thoughts. Even so she was giddy and cut the tip of her finger, flying the drop of blood through air. Once the rush wore off she set off toward the wilds, where she had always planned to go. It wasn¡¯t until she reached Far-Reach fort, she realised that she had never intended to head into the wilds. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Although now she was so close, and if she could find those ruins, perhaps there would be more spell tomes. Convincing herself that she had convinced herself to continue, she continued on into the wilds. She was surprised in retrospect that she had travelled for two days and nights without food or rest, and hadn¡¯t even noticed. Instead of a forest filled with dangerous monsters, untouched by civilization, she found herself on a tame - if overgrown - path that she instinctively knew to follow. At journey''s end she found herself at the ruins of a church, of a long forgotten deity lit by moonlight. Tired, exhausted, parched, and confused she stood in front of a blood stained altar, fear suddenly rising. Before panic could truly set in, the most stunning woman she had ever seen appeared from nowhere, quelling her racing heart. Her pale skin reflected the beauty of the moon. Her slightly pointed ears confirmed her elven decent. Her silver hair emitted an ethereal glow. Her sharp fangs complimented her angular features. Enthralled, Alma couldn¡¯t even react until the dried blood on the altar was joined by her own - even then she had not the presence of mind to use her new spell. She awoke three nights later, her skin as cold and pale as death; but with a new feeling. Once her hunger had been sated by Camille, her mistress, she was able to understand what it was. Despite enchanting a spell tome to bring anyone with the right affinities to her, and ostensibly killing her, she couldn''t bring herself to hate the woman. Camille filled a hole in her heart she never knew was there, treating her as a mother would her child. Over the next month she learned a lot from Camille. First her new race, vampire, toed the line between life and death but unlike undead they had a violent reaction to sunlight. During the day they would sleep in the ruined church''s cellar, which was appointed with more luxury items than Alma had ever seen. Desks with golden inlay, chairs made from the finest mahogany, stacks of pristine vellum. All of which she was encouraged to use freely so that she might learn her numbers and letters. Camille also taught her magic, starting with blood, as a basis she learned about human biology. The lessons were tough as her new body desperately wanted to feast on the specimens she somehow acquired. Eventually, with Camille''s diligent guidance, she was able to acquire the Necromancer Class. A class despised by the Church of light, given their relationship, she was only too happy. One day a crow arrived at their hideout, an encoded message tied to its leg. Dutifully she carried it to her mistress; who after some consideration, revealed its contents to her. Camille was a part of the Ghibellines family, a prominent family in the kingdom but they harboured a dark secret. The house''s first patriarch, who helped form this kingdom, yet lived in undeath - as a vampire. He and his ilk would secretly select the most promising of their house and give them the gift. If they didn¡¯t die, they would then fake their death and have them work in the shadows to safeguard the family¡¯s interests, ensuring the Ghibellines would never fall. Apparently a new Paladin of Light had arisen and he was far too good at his job. Unwilling to be bribed and too strong to defeat, without revealing their true presence in the capital, the patriarch had devised a plan. The man had been born and lived in a farm near Far-Reach before his blessing, so if an undead threat were to arise in the area there would be no doubt of his dispatch. While he was gone the Ghibellines¡¯ would insure that none of his future warrants, or raids would be permitted. The death of such a figure, though beneficial in the short run, may turn too many heads, better he quietly faded into obscurity. Camille decided to use this opportunity as a test for Alma. Helping her plan the assault, with information she had gained from years of reconnaissance. Even providing her with contacts who could be bribed to take carts of horse manure into the castle, instead of out, and the coin to do so. She even provided her with the body of an adventurer who had ventured into the wild¡¯s in search of glory. Camille had found him on the brink of death, after a monster attack and, seeing his proficiency with the sword, had tried to turn him. Unfortunately the blessing hadn¡¯t taken and he had died. When the attack began she was left to her own devices, she joined in - instructing Pater to act as the commander so that when he was slain the Paladin''s expedition might be concluded. She had decided to stay for the first few nights after the fort was taken to ensure everything was running smoothly, there were undead crows posted on the route from the capital so she could be sure to be forewarned of the paladin''s arrival. At first she had been grateful for staying, as a Revenant Bard arose without her assistance. A curiosity she was sure her mistress would be interested in. Pater had thrown him in the dungeon for creating a riot with his music; that was fine, he could stay safe in there until she took him back with her. She had felt on top of the world, her victories bolstering her confidence to new heights. That was until it appeared. During her training with Camille she had been shown how to perceive a person¡¯s mana, although her perception was lacking, she could still make out that her mistress was incredibly strong with blood mana. So, when she came out for the evening inspection, all the confidence she had felt fled her in an instant. She felt faint and had to clench her fists to stop from shaking. The thing in the shape of a skeleton seemed weak to the mundane eye, but to her magical sense he was a bottomless pit of death and despair. Every type of mana, and none at all, clashed constantly within him and over it all lay a blanket of death mana. She had to strain to not throw up, she couldn¡¯t afford to offend this creature. Compared to him, an ocean, her mistress was a pond, no, a puddle, then what did that make her. Pater was talking with his usual bravado, she wanted to scream but she was too scared, it had been years since she felt like this. Hiding from the nuns as they stalked about her secret spot under the bed, just looking for something to hit. Pater was signalling her behind his back to Identify the monster, to confirm he was a Lich. Alma almost laughed in desperation, but out of curiosity did so: Identify: Lich: Lv.5 This time she did laugh, luckily she managed to cover it with one cough, she signed that he was as he claimed. Of course a creature like that wouldn¡¯t allow her to see its true status. Its eyeless gaze turned to her and she froze, stock still, eyes fixed on the ground. She thanked Pater for taking the undead¡¯s attention but then cursed him in the next breath for picking a fight. This was it, she was dead. To her surprise she did not open her eyes to a smiling demon, or rather she did, but it spoke cordially to Pater despite his provocation. When he was escorted inside to breakfast, she considered running then and there, but her inner confidence-woman knew that leaving now might cause offence. She sat through the meal, death sat across from her. It enjoyed the grubs, so she ate some, even though anything but blood would make her sick. When Pater gave him the tour it didn¡¯t even react to Pater''s outlandish stories, she began to calm, perhaps they could survive this. But when he insisted on fighting, trying to intimidate with a piddling force. She knew she had to leave, now. The sense she had honed on the streets of the capital screamed at her. Silently she fled the fort, fast as the wind she travelled the hidden path into the wilds. Just as she was beginning to think herself foolish, the night sky suddenly lit up like a summer''s day. Looking back, lightning struck from a cloudless sky. The following shock wave knocked her from her feet more than a mile away. Scrambling, she took flight once more, crying, a lost little girl running to her mother. Chapter 9: Bioremediation Chapter 9: Bioremediation I stumbled, nearly falling, before I was able to catch myself. My Life Sense swam as I staggered from the circle of ash. Skull throbbing, I made my way to Dante - who was still frozen in shock. Sitting next to him on the steps, I rubbed my sphenoids. This was probably the worst case of mana sickness I had ever experienced, frankly I was surprised my current form was able to feel the same sensations. What the hell just happened? I thought to myself, my sluggish mind trying to puzzle its way through the problem. That spell, when properly performed and with the correct inscriptions, should - at most - paralyse one''s enemies. Granted I intended it to use only about five percent of my total mana, then I had upped it to fifty. Still given the inaccuracy of my method, more than half of that should have been lost to the environment. ¡°Ah, of course.¡± I tutted. This world seemed to react rather unpredictably when mana was just left floating around. Now that I looked back, I had felt a brief portal to that mysterious plane of magic. Tasting the air, I found it lacking in power, twenty feet from the crater. Examining myself, I found the reason for such severe mana sickness; I was completely out of magic. The spell had sucked all the energy out of me, no wonder it had had such a dramatic effect. Really, with my experience, I should have been able to feel it but such a loss of mana muddled anyone¡¯s mind. I wouldn¡¯t be able to cast any spells for at least a few hours, and for the next week it was gonna hurt like hell to even use the most mundane evocation. Absently, I looked through my System for something that could help me out. Looking through the seemingly endless list of acquirable Skills I unlocked Identify for all three of my SP. I was just looking at my class abilities and spells when Dante interrupted, finally out of his shocked passivity. ¡°You didn¡¯t leave any for me,¡± he half complained and half sighed in relief. ¡°There wasn¡¯t even any point to you learning to resist my singing, you were just making me feel useful,¡± Dante continued, a malicious gleam in one eye and an uncomprehending look in the other. ¡°First off,¡± I interjected before he could start ranting, ¡°you will recall that; when we were planning the attack, if we were to find any silver the spell I could make would stun our opponents... not this. Second, that spell stole all my mana, we¡¯re going to need you to help clean up the remaining undead on guard.¡± Dante looked slightly mollified. So, resting my skull on my palm I continued, ¡°the undead will start to roam looking for life and will need you to round them up.¡± ¡°Why would they start roaming?¡± Dante asked. His innocent-half seemed to have taken back control. ¡°Because I killed the necroma¡­¡± I intended to snap-back, but trailed off on the last word. ¡°What?¡± Dante asked, looking in the direction I was staring. How could I have been so blind? The second I saw Pater I knew he wasn¡¯t a mage, his mana pathways were too underdeveloped. With a thought my System notifications appeared before me. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Damn it.¡± I spat, Dante looked at me funny, so I went on. ¡°Have you seen that woman? The one who was stuck to Pater¡¯s side?¡± ¡°No?¡± Dante half-said half-asked. ¡°Crap!¡± I said, putting my thoughts quite eloquently. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Dante said, some annoyance slipping into his tone. ¡°Sorry but she¡¯s the necromancer. A clever one at that, she put all the focus on Pater or maybe that was my fault. Getting too caught up in the plan and not seeing the forest for the trees.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Dante replied, ¡°maybe she¡¯s still here?¡± ¡°Ha,¡± I chuckled drily, ¡°seeing a display like that, even the Archmagus of the black tower would make a strategic withdrawal.¡± ¡°What?¡± Dante again asked. ¡°Ahh,¡± I sighed in apology, ¡°I¡¯m saying she¡¯s long gone by now, and even if she¡¯s not; I can¡¯t cast a single spell at the moment.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± he replied, seeming to calm somewhat, ¡°you know, a spell like that was probably seen for miles, definitely worth writing a song about.¡± My bones lightened slightly, ¡°you¡¯re right, we should get the cleanup over with quickly and get gone.¡± Putting my hands on my patellas, my bones creaked as I got to my feet. Wobbling for a second, I regained my balance - before offering Dante a hand. As I had feared, the undead were still following orders - fortunately that made our job much easier. Unfortunately that meant, once again, Dante¡¯s talents weren¡¯t needed. Nonetheless he picked up a mace from one of the skeletons and started the grisly process of dispatching the undead. Thankfully, even after sending a number of them to their graves, so long as no undead saw us slaying, the horde would remain non-hostile. We started by clearing out the outer walls, working our way inwards to the castle; small as it was, it had few postings. Even with all the killing, I failed to increase in level. Dante on the other hand had made it to level thirteen. When I asked him about it, he replied that ¡°everyone knows levelling slows down dramatically after level twenty.¡± After we had cleared the area, without finding that mage, Dante asked what I planned to do next. I reminded him that my goal was to research magic and to do that I would need money, subsequently, I would be headed for the nearest town, disguised - of course. Searching the relatively barren castle, I found only a few things of use. A brown robe that appeared to have belonged to someone of a religious bent, who was demonstrating their piety with their lack of wealth. The robe was the only thing I could find that wrapped my bones without just falling off, as a bonus it covered most of me. I then found some linen sheets, which I used to hide my arms, legs, and head. Blindfolding my eyes was no problem, as I didn¡¯t really use them to see; and being seen as a severe burn victim was better than appearing as I truly was. In the stable¡¯s, I managed to find a knapsack and leather gloves. In the lord''s quarters I found a surprising lack of wealth, there were a total of two rather small gold coins and a bag of silver which I requisitioned. I also found, a mostly empty, leather bound book and quill, ripping out the first few pages; which consisted of tax ledgers, I took those as well. Returning to the kitchens, I found the other three silver items of cutlery. As it turned out there were only two sets of silver silverware, my guess was that they were for the lord and lady. Given the relative poverty of the fort, they must have placed quite some importance on eating; perhaps it had some religious implications. Asking Dante, he didn¡¯t know. On my way to find him; I passed the armoury, inside I found it mostly bare. I took a crossbow and a quiver of bolts. I also found a hand-and-a-half sword, with okay balance. The best armaments had been used by Pater and his retinue but they had disintegrated along with them. While I was doing this Dante had somehow found new strings for his lute and a gaudy burgundy hat with a green feather stuck erect from its crown. Given how happy he seemed, cradling his lute, I chose not to comment. Searching the slums outside the walls which Dante called a village, the only thing of use I found was a bottle of mostly pure alcohol in the public house. The stables were sadly empty, the horses either dead or fled, so with half the night still ahead of us and Dante trying to fit lyrics to an ungodly tune; we set out, along the only road that led down the hill, into the forest, and away from the wilds. Chapter 10: The Dark Forest Chapter 10: The Dark Forest I plodded along, crossbow swaying on my back. The thousand elephants that were using my skull to practise stampeding didn¡¯t appreciate Dante''s insistent strumming. Still, I didn¡¯t complain as I was observing an interesting phenomena. It appeared that because Dante was composing a piece rather than playing one it had absolutely no effect on my body. Now that I could listen to his playing directly I was able to learn a lot. I learned a bit about music during my time as a court magus. While he was not formulating his melodies or harmonies with any scale I was familiar with, it did have an underlying logic. It was different, at first I had disliked it for that, now I might have been coming round if the elephants hadn¡¯t been so adamant in their disapproval. When I asked Dante why this had no effect on me he explained his Bard class ability wouldn¡¯t activate unless he knew what he wanted to play. I kept listening as the dirt road led around the bald hill, on which Far-Reach Fort sat, descending at a gentle gradient to allow for carriages. Eventually we entered the forest at the bottom, the only road from the fort leading through it, the wilds on the other side of the hill. With no choice of direction we entered the dark forest. The darkness had no effect on my Life Sense and given the abundance of life a forest held I anticipated no problems seeing. I asked Dante how he could see, and he told me upon becoming a Revenant he received the Dark Vision Skill, when I asked what other Skills he received he wouldn¡¯t answer. Not being able to muster my usual thirst for knowledge, I let it drop. I kept my metaphorical eyes open for spell components on the way, any magically imbued flora or fauna may be useful. There were two things I was looking for specifically. Something containing either Dark mana or Light mana to hide me from the effects of the sun, or create an illusion to disguise me as a member of the living. I had done the best I could with the materials at hand, covering every inch of my bones. I had also sealed my mana within myself, not letting any out or in. I did this mainly as it helped with the side effects of mana poisoning and aided in a speedy recovery. However it also had the side effect of not allowing anyone, without significant skill, to sense my mana. For the next few hours nothing much happened, the forest was frustratingly mundane, absent of magical ingredients. At some point I couldn¡¯t take anymore and I had asked Dante to stop, leaving us to walk in silence. I was rather embarrassed when Dante was the first to notice something amiss. ¡°Where did this fog come from?¡± He asked. ¡°Hmmyesnowhat?¡± I asked in a jumbled mess. I had gotten into a sort of meditation as I thought of nothing but step after step, being pulled from that by the sudden question left me dazed and confused. Looking up from my feet I saw what he was on about, at some point we had been surrounded by a mist. It was still thin, only obscuring things ten feet ahead or so but it was closing rapidly. It¡¯s clearly magical nature even blocked my Life Sense. ¡°Oh, that''s not good.¡± Was all I could get out before we were engulfed. After an embarrassingly long moment I had an idea. ¡°Dante.¡± I called, ¡°Start playing.¡± Nothing, there was no response. I called again but there was still nothing. Without my magic, and with a pounding headache, I was brought back to a similar situation in my youth and some of that fear bled through. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. This time however I was armed, hand creaking against the leather of my scabbard I stepped forward carefully. The way my Life Sense skill worked made this vacuum of life appear as a billowing cloud of darkness. I could still feel the dirt beneath my shoes, I was still on the road. Straining my ears; I heard nothing, not even the nocturnal bird calls or scurrying insects. It would appear this fog affected more than sight. Checking my internal mana, it was still disturbed but not influenced. Whatever this was, only seemed to have an external effect, some kind of illusion? I doubted this was the effect of some magical plant, they would have diverted the road around it. No, this was either an attack or some natural phenomena. If it is the former the best cause would be to find somewhere to hide out the spell. Given I¡¯d probably get lost I chose to work on the assumption this was somehow natural and stuck to the road, aiming to just walk through it. ? Dante walked through the boring forest, sulking about not being able to play. When a white fog billowed towards him he called out to the scary skeleton that his inner beast loved, but only received a garbled response. He tried calling again when he was surrounded, but this time there was no response. Had Osseus left him? Dante still had the mace he used in the fort but no armour, he had no experience with the stuff and it was heavy. He was regretting not taking it now. Putting his lute in its case and slinging it over his shoulder he unholstered the mace, clutching it firmly. Something moved in the corner of his eye, and, heading the call of the beast, he swung without hesitation. The tip of his mace was out of sight when it clipped something, jumping back in fear and surprise. His back struck a tree knocking the air from his undead lungs. Staggering forward, he stumbled betweens trees as he tried to create distance from his attacker. Out of nowhere a spear stabbed out grazing Dante¡¯s face, he let out a high pitch squeak before scrambling backward. He thought he heard a twig snap to his left and he swung out desperately striking the offending tree solidly. Terrified, he took off blindly into the fog. He was only stopped when he tripped over something and fell flat on his face. Turning back he saw the groaning form of a holy knight, a stab wound in his thigh. What the hell was happening, had the knights come here to kill him? Scrambling across the dirt road to get away from the undead hunter he struck something head first. He tried to bring his mace around to defend himself, only to find he had lost it. Looking at certain death he found it to be a cartwheel. The incongruity of the image momentarily stunned him. After a second he grasped onto the familiar object, following the shape of it. Constantly maintaining contact, he worked his way around until he found an opening. From the outside he felt it was a canvas covered wagon so he crawled in, curling up in the middle of the floor and waiting for this nightmare to be over. He kept his eyes tight shut until a gentle cough caught his attention. Opening his eyes, the fog was lifting and where before he couldn''t see the sides of the carriage now he could see the half dozen holy knights sat staring at him. He gulped before saying, ¡°Errr¡­¡± ? When the first attack came, I thought Dante had just lost his nerve. When the second, third, and fourth came I knew something was wrong. Each used a different weapon, a mace, a spear, a halberd, and a sword. With only a millisecond to react I was struck three times but thankfully the attacks were wild and didn¡¯t do much but throw me around. Either this was an uncoordinated attack or there were others caught in this fog with us. The last attack I was finally able to dodge before launching a counter attack, feeling fleshy resistance I pulled back. With the number of physical fights I seemed to be finding myself in recently I vowed that I would start practising the forms I had been taught so long ago. As I was straining my senses to detect the next attack I noticed something. Looking around I could tell the darkness was blacker in one direction than another. Following a hunch I stepped closer to the void, every few steps I reoriented myself, each time stepping toward the blacker of two blacks. I was mostly convinced I had the right idea as the rate of attacks dropped rapidly the closer I got. I was certain I was on the right track when I heard a woman screaming. Not reacting, I continued. Eventually I came to the centre of the effect, and it took me looking over the area inch by inch before I found the source. A small dot who¡¯s blackness rivalled that of the abyss, if only in colour. Taking a glass jar from my knapsack I plucked the anomaly from the branch and placed it inside. As soon as the lid was sealed the magical effects of the fog disappeared and my Life Sense could once again see. Examining the jar I saw a small beetle inside with a white carapace and a faint glow of light mana to it. I was unfamiliar with the species but it was certainly powerful, a perfect find. I was pulled from my examination by a cough. I looked up, and up. In front of me was a tall man in shining golden armour with blond wavy hair and a serious look in his eye. ¡°Errr¡­.¡± was all I managed. Chapter 11: Orlando Roncevaux Shall Pass Chapter 11: Orlando Roncevaux Shall Pass ¡°You seem to have saved us monk, allow me to congratulate you.¡± The mountain of a man said, breaking into an equally giant grin. The startlement wore off, melted by this man¡¯s earnest warmth. ¡°Osseus.¡± I announced, sticking out a bony hand and immediately regretting it. As soon as he grasps my hand he¡¯ll know I¡¯m nought but bones. I thought, desperately trying to pull my hand back. I was too late, a vice crushed the appendage. ¡°Orlando.¡± The other man boomed, chuckling heartily, ¡°I was worried for a moment there, thinking this might be an undead attack.¡± ¡°Undead?¡± I questioned, looking around and trying to appear scared, ¡°Where?¡± ¡°Never fear, for the Undead flee from my presence.¡± Orlando proclaimed. For a moment I truly believed him, before I remembered I was undead, pesky Charisma. ¡°What are you planning to do with that?¡± Orlando asked, eyeing the captured bug warily. I looked at the jar in my other hand before placing it carefully in my knapsack. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious?¡± I asked, gesturing to my attire and hoping he¡¯d come up with an excuse for me. ¡°Are you perhaps a monk of the church of knowledge?¡± He inquired, almost eager. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll need to research this specimen.¡± I replied, jumping on the explanation. The warm aura of the man chilled at the lie, but only slightly. ¡°Might I ask; which church are you a member of?¡± I questioned, to break the tension. He had the feel of holy mana although I couldn¡¯t identify the type of deity which empowered the man. Orlando looked down at his shining golden armour, then back up at me. ¡°I would have thought it obvious from my plate, but I am a Paladin of the Church of Light!¡± he said proudly. ¡°Ahh, well, you see, I don¡¯t.¡± I replied gesturing toward my covered face, the fog had almost gone by this point. Orlando looked confused for a moment before it finally clicked. ¡°You¡¯re blind, my apologies for not noticing sooner. Please allow me to escort you back to the road.¡± Orlando offered without hesitation. ¡°That¡¯s quite alright.¡± I replied, this time able to slip his grasp, ¡°I cannot use my eyes but I have my own means of seeing.¡± ¡°Of course, I didn''t mean to assume.¡± the Paladin responded, backing up to give me space. Looking up at the lowering moon he continued ¡°I should introduce you to my comrades, they would love to meet the one who saved them.¡± It was phrased as an invitation, but not one you could say no to. ¡°I would love to.¡± I replied, following the large man as he carved his way through the forest with his mass alone. Again the air chilled slightly at my words, but less so this time. Even with the half dozen elephants who had stayed behind for the after party, I could tell this man had some kind of lie detection ability. I would have to be careful what I let slip in his presence. ¡°So, why are you here?¡± Orlando asked. Trying not to lie I answered, ¡°We were in fort Far-Reach, we fought the undead but after that lightning attack we had to leave.¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Orlando¡¯s shoulders relaxed slightly and the arua¡¯s warmth doubled. ¡°Any enemy of the undead-scourge is a friend of mine.¡± He cajoled. ¡°Did you see who was behind it? Was it a necromancer?¡± ¡°No, sorry, from my position I couldn¡¯t see who made the attack.¡± I replied honestly. ¡°And who is this we you speak of?¡± Orlando pressed. ¡°I was helped by a bard named Dante.¡± I answered simply. ¡°I see.¡± was all he said. It didn¡¯t take long to clear the forest as we hadn¡¯t gone far from the road. Parting the foliage, we came upon a clearing by the track. A camp of knights was set out around a fire. A dozen, in all with half as many tents. The lookouts noticed us immediately, thankfully Orlando was in front and took most of the attention. A knight came running up and saluted the shining man, he looked slightly less tired than the others. ¡°Sir, we have captured someone who we believe was behind the attack.¡± the soldier reported. Orlando sighed, some exhaustion showing in his tone, ¡°I thought I ordered you to remain in the wagons until I found the source of the fog.¡± ¡°We did, sir,¡± he replied sharply. ¡°Then how did you capture this person? Did they attack you?¡± Orlando asked, seriousness returning to his voice, as he indicated the man who¡¯s thigh was being bandaged. ¡°Ahh, sir, I¡­¡± he spluttered. ¡°Spit it out man.¡± the Paladin encouraged. ¡°Although we didn¡¯t leave our wagon, the second squad did,¡± the knight reported. I stifled a snicker at the remark, it would appear that I wasn¡¯t the only one trying to work my way around the Paladin¡¯s truth sense. Some of the other men who were listening shot daggers at the knight, causing him to sweat. ¡°And they came upon this attacker in the mists?¡± Orlando prompted. ¡°No sir.¡± the soldier replied. ¡°No?¡± Orlando asked. ¡°He crawled into our wagon and curled up on the floor,¡± the knight explained, not meeting his commander''s eye. Orlando humphed, ¡°Take me to him.¡± As we walked Orlando noticed the looks I was getting, but as I was accompanying him no one had asked. ¡°This is Osseus,¡± he announced to the camp, ¡°he was the one who found the Mist beetle and captured it, yes you heard that right this was a magical beast not an attack.¡± Hardly a beast. I thought as we came to one of the wagons. There tied up in the back was Dante, a gag in his mouth and a cut on his cheek. He looked up, fear in his eyes until he noticed me. Before I could help Orlando reached down, picked him up, and set him on his feet with no apparent effort. Untied and ungagged Dante still appeared rather ruffled. ¡°What is your name?¡± Orlando asked in a steady tone. ¡°Dante,¡± he replied in a weak voice, eyes stuck to the ground. The Paladin nodded before asking his next question, ¡°Did you stab any of my knights?¡± he asked sternly. ¡°I¡¯ve never stabbed anyone.¡± Dante replied honestly. Orlando relaxed and donned a smile. I was honestly beginning to feel concerned for the young man and was blindsided by Orlando¡¯s next question. ¡°Why does he cover his face?¡± he asked, pointing at me. Dante looked me straight in the figurative eye, the gleam of his alter ego showing through. ¡°Because he¡¯s fuck ugly.¡± he replied without missing a beat. There was a moment of mutually stunned silence before it was broken by a hearty belly laugh from Orlando, soon the other knights joined in. The air warmed to a nearly uncomfortable level. I seethed, that little bastard, just as I was beginning to feel sorry for him. To warrant a reaction like this he had to have meant it too, I would get him back for that. Dante¡¯s expression changed from a satisfied smirk to an honest look of shock, thankfully only I seemed to notice the abrupt change. Perhaps my time would be better spent trying to help them. After the laughter died down, Orlando addressed my indignant posture. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you can never be too careful, especially so close to the wilds at night,¡± he explained. ¡°Dante?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Do I have eyes?¡± I questioned. He looked worriedly between me and the golden haired man. ¡°Answer honestly?¡± I encouraged. ¡°Err.. No? No you don¡¯t,¡± he responded. Now at least Orlando would have an explanation for Dantes response without anyone having to lie. Once everyone had calmed down, we were offered a bedroll to spend the last of the night in. I refused, impling that I was desperate to get back to civilization. When I was told that there was more than a day''s travel to get to the nearest town I answered rather snappily that was all the more reason to start now; in the early hours of the morning. Orlando, surprisingly, agreed and decided to do likewise, instructing the men to break camp. We parted with smiles and waves, and venomous looks from the tired knights. Once again we set forth alone on the forest trail, with daylight fast approaching. Chapter 12: Murder at The Vicarage I Chapter 12: Murder at The Vicarage I The fleeting hours of the night went by in a mutual silence. On my part caused by Dante¡¯s disrespectful comment, having hit a deeply buried insecurity about my current condition. In his case it was caused by a mixture of embarrassment and worry. Not long before dawn, we found a suitable place to make camp. Having been unable to find any camping supplies in fort Far-Reach, Orlando had been kind enough to lend us a tent so long as it was returned to the Church of Light in Market Basing, the next town on the road. Much to his men¡¯s chagrin. The silence persisted as we erected the structure, breaking only for the occasional grunt of direction or word of correction. The tent being made of canvas, albeit waxed canvas, would not be able to completely block daylight. Because of this, we chose to build it in a dugout under a dead tree, also keeping us out of sight of the road. Despite our best efforts, the cramped conditions and hours of required waiting, eventually broke the silence. ¡°Why did you say that?¡± I asked, when it finally became too much. ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± Dante replied meekly. I had expected some excuse, as a matter of fact I thought it quite likely that he would blame this other persona of which I had seen glimpses. However, his sincere tone gave me pause. ¡°Explain that to me,¡± I proposed, regaining some of the dignity my age should bestow. Really I was being rather childish. ¡°Hmm,¡± he began undeterminedly, his eyes fixed on his feet as he pulled them away from a stray sunbeam that evaded all our protections. I gave him a moment to gather himself and eventually he spoke. ¡°There is something I haven¡¯t been telling you¡­¡± he trailed off as he looked up to my covered face. ¡°Yes?¡± I encouraged, having managed to let go of my own feelings. ¡°I¡­ It¡¯s¡­ when,¡± Dante began before curling up further. ¡°When I awoke as a revenant I was given a choice by the system?¡± ¡°And this was?¡± I prompted gently. ¡°The text was an ominous red I believed to be weird,¡± Dante said, avoiding a direct answer. I just looked at him, waiting. Eventually he caved. ¡°It said:¡± Choose:
  1. The power to get your revenge.
  2. Death.
I waited to ensure he was finished. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with choosing to live,¡± I replied, in my best impression of a comforting tone. Having spent the majority of my life sequestered in research, I was not the best at this sort of thing. ¡°No, that¡¯s just it. I chose death.¡± Dante insisted. At the quizzical tilt of my head, he continued. ¡°It wasn¡¯t immediate, but having found myself bereft of all memory I was left with nothing but my feelings to guide me. I found very little malice in my heart. In truth, who I was, deep down may have wanted to die.¡± Unable to think of what to say, we sat again in silence. I began to wish I had spent more time with the Archmagus of the White Tower. She was the only one of The Seven, devoted to the healing arts - in both body and mind. ¡°And yet, you are not truly dead.¡± I interjected when I finally felt it was time to move on. ¡°No, no I''m not,¡± Dante said, taking a breath he continued. ¡°I chose death, I know I did, and yet power was the only option which lit up. The next thing I knew something had changed.¡± ¡°Changed, how?¡± I pushed. ¡°It was as though the system message turned to smoke, it engulfed me, forcing its way in through my nose and mouth until it could rest within me.¡± Dante explained energetically. ¡°It sits there, watching and waiting. This thing, this beast, it preys on my every insecurity whispering in the back of my mind.¡± ¡°That''s your conscience,¡± I dismiss. ¡°No, no!¡± he insists. ¡°Fine, What does it say?¡± I asked, trying to hide my desire to cut him open and examine his brain. ¡°It promises me things¡­ Strength; so that none may trample over me again, so that my enemies might flee before me, before testing their fate, so that none upon this mortal plane might contest me, and the blood of thousands can flow like rivers, dawning the new age.¡± Dante elaborated, with each line, growing in fervour and volume. His teeth and fingernails sharpened, his ears began to point, and a red glow started emitting from his eyes. It was only stopped upon receiving a solid clout to the back of his head, whereupon the symptoms immediately reversed and I was rewarded with an annoyed look from Dante. ¡°What was that for?¡± he complained ¡°Just testing an Hypothesis.¡± I explained in a neutral tone. Taking out my notebook, I turned to the back and began to write. ¡°What are you doing now?¡± Dante asked with childlike curiosity, some of it having returned after removing such a heavy weight from his chest. ¡°Well, I believe I might be able to help you.¡± I explained, noting down the symptoms and some possible spell components. ¡°Really, do you know what it is?¡± Dante asked hopefully. ¡°A demon.¡± I said plainly. ¡°A demon?¡± Dante asked, shocked. ¡°Hmm, oh, yeah probably a small one. An imp maybe.¡± I replied offhandedly, my mind having latched onto the problem at hand as I sketched out spell diagrams. ¡°You knew, and you didn¡¯t say anything?¡± Dante yelled incredulously. ¡°I thought you had a contract.¡± I explained as I calculated the correct volume of holy water. ¡°How would a contract have helped?¡± Dante pressed, desperation in his voice. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Usually when a person and a demon share a body it is either possession or a contract.¡± I elaborated. ¡°Usually?¡± Dante spluttered but I ignored him. ¡°If it had been the former I would have been forced to kill you on sight, but, since you appeared to be mostly in control with some occasional lapses; I assumed you had a contract with odd stipulations that allowed for occasional control.¡± I provided. In his inattention, Dantes leg had slipped down, passing through the ray of sunshine. After he had finished cursing and jostling, he gathered himself. ¡°So you can get rid of it then?¡± Dante asked, once had calmed down. ¡°Yes¡­ but I won¡¯t.¡± I replied. ¡°What! Why?¡± the Bard demanded. ¡°Because doing that could kill you, I can¡¯t be sure but based on your description of how you merged, I think it most likely.¡± I said, finishing off the spell formulae. ¡°Oh,¡± Dante said in response, ¡°So what are you trying to do?¡± ¡°I am devising a spell, based on my extensive interactions with demons, that should be able to draw it out at least partially. So that you might form a contract with it.¡± I supplied, as I dotted the Is and crossed the Ts. ¡°I see¡­ Wait, why do you have extensive interactions with demons?¡± Dante asked, as soon as his brain caught up. ¡°Well, I went through a phase of using them as test subjects. They seemed perfect; immortal, very high magic resistance, and generally evil.¡± I answered. ¡°Why did you stop?¡± he followed up. ¡°I ran out.¡± I said simply. ¡°You ran out, how could you run out? I thought you said they were immortal.¡± Dante inquired. ¡°There¡¯s a difference between immortal and invincible.¡± I explained, ¡°But in this case you¡¯re right, demons can reform on their home plane. The only problem is that it can take anywhere from a decade to a millennia, depending how powerful they are. Even then I wouldn¡¯t have run out if one didn¡¯t require a demon''s name to summon them. Sometimes I would get lucky and a demon would be helpful enough to provide me with another''s name, in order to stop the experimentation. Even so, most did not, from the account of the last demon I summoned I appear to have quite a reputation in their realm.¡± I said, handing him the spell diagram. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± he asked ¡°That¡¯s the spell that will let you form a contract with your demon. And probably won¡¯t blow you up.¡± I said, adding the last under my proverbial breath. ¡°What?¡± Dante asked distractedly, looking over the diagrams and formulae uncomprehendingly. ¡°It¡¯s about seventy-thirty or so¡­ oh you meant the spell, we¡¯ll need your testicles weight in silver, a ruby, and half a pint of holy water.¡± Dante proceeded to ask a number of questions about how exactly it all worked. As a result the rest of the day was spent with me exuberantly explaining the basics of magical theory and Dante following along as best he could. Thus, the day passed rather quickly and night once again fell. Having gotten his teeth stuck into the topic Dante continued to ask me questions as we packed up camp and began our walk anew. Between interrogations Dante returned to composing his song, now sporting the working title of Lightning Strikes The Fort. Having gotten over the worst of the mana sickness, I was now able to properly appreciate the music. I still wouldn¡¯t be able to cast without severe pain for the next week or so, but at least my head no longer thumped. As we walked the scenery slowly began to change. First, was chimney smoke dotting distant hilltops, seen through thinning trees. Then, came small paths and trails that acted as tributaries to the road on which we now walked. Next, were occasional hamlets which appeared at the side of the road. All building an impression of civilization. Finally, near the end of the night, the Town of Market Basing came into view as we crested a hill. ¡°Is that it?¡± I asked, it was still miles away but from here what I saw was a rather quaint town which had only just outgrown its walls - a church prominently placed at its heart. Dante only shrugged in reply. With our destination just out of reach for the night we diverted from the road and made our way across some overgrown fields toward an abandoned cabin, who¡¯s roof still appeared mostly intact. Now settled in for the day, I found it high time to test the two new spells the system had given me. Preparing myself for the pain, I activated Wind Breath. I was able to just lift an olden wooden board from the floor when the pain overcame me and I cried out. Dante came rushing over but I was quick to mollify him. Still, he appeared most uncomfortable as the screaming continued throughout the day. On the bright side I was able to discover the use of the spells. Wind Breath acted like a short range telekinesis and, although in my current condition I was unable to push the limits of the spell as I had with necrotising bolts, the low mana cost and broad application left me hopeful. Shocking Aura on the other hand was far simpler, depending on how much mana I used for the spell I could create anything from a field that gives you a slight shock to something that paralyses the muscles. Although both spells were not as efficient nor as powerful as their ritual counterparts, I was still giddy with excitement. Perhaps that was why I hadn''t thought much about screaming at the top of my lungs in pain. The door opened and an elderly man poked his head in. ¡°Are you quite alright? I hea¡­¡± The grey haired man trailed off as he was staring right at a skull. I had undone the coverings so I might get a better view of my experiments. Still frozen in a mirror of the intruder''s shock, I was unable to reach as out of the corner of my vision I caught a flash of sharp teeth and glowing red eyes. Thump. The rather pleasant looking fellow was laid out flat on the ground, his head ringed with a growing pool of blood. Flabbergasted, I looked at Dante. Where once was a kind boy with a love for music, stood a no-doubt possessed man. Horns began to grow from his head and he was running straight at me, mace held high. Shit! I thought as I finally kicked into gear and dodged his wild charge. I looked around desperately for something I could use, Dante had begun to grow on me and I would rather not have to kill him. The door was open, letting in daylight around a body that was still breathing. Seeing that, a plan came to mind. Continuing to evade the demon¡¯s persistent attacks, and even occasional bites, I made my way toward the door. With the Light behind I didn¡¯t see it until I accidentally stepped into it. The foot in question became instantly inanimate and fell to the ground. Thinking quickly, and off balance, I used the change in mass to power a roll which put me behind the half open door. Holding on to the door for support I pulled it all the way open and flooded most of the room with light. Dante dropped to the floor limp, unfortunately the horns on his head continued to grow. Slamming the door shut I plunged us back into darkness. By the time I came to the dying man''s side, the demon was already twitching. Quickly I spoke the arcane words of a spell, my hand on the elderly man as I bit my tongue against the pain of moving my mana. What I was about to do was considered forbidden magic but given I was already a lich I figured it couldn¡¯t get any worse. Dante was up and charging again just as I finished the spell. The intruder''s life force became fainter to my Life Sense as a cloud of black mana emerged from him and swallowed what Dante had been. When the dust settled Dante was huddled on the ground snoring away, his horns neither grew nor shrunk. What I had done was essentially placed him in stasis so long as this elderly man was alive, which didn¡¯t appear to be long. Pacing back and forth rapidly I thought frantically for a solution, all I had done was buy time. I cursed my growing headache, if this continued I¡¯d end up with mana poisoning again. Finally it hit me. If I was able to connect my death force to this man''s life force through an opposite exchange I should be able to keep him alive long enough for me to get the spell components to activate the working I had devised. But I can''t do a spell like that without the right components¡­ unless. I could piggyback the effect on another spell. I darted over to my knapsack, fumbling with the lid and withdrew the illusionary beetle. Opening the jar and grabbing it before the mist could take effect, I began chanting a spell. This Binding would tie me to the elderly man in the way I had hoped, but the true effect of the spell would give me the illusion of his appearance. Mana swirled and I was unable to hold it back, it felt as though a thousand stars burst in my eyes, then, blackness. When I came-to, it was still daytime but it clearly hadn¡¯t been long. Looking down, Dante was still fast asleep and the elderly man¡¯s breath had steadied. Relieved I let out a breath of my own and it was as if I truly did. When I saw myself I was honestly surprised, I had taken on the exact form of the old man, less the head wound. I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised, it was a spell I myself devised and if it was performed correctly, it should have one other key feature. Tentatively I opened the door, placing one fingerbone in the light. I was satisfied when there was nothing but a cold tingly feeling. My connection to his life could protect me from the sun. With not a second to lose, I took off running. I got no end of strange looks from farmers and merchants on the road as I ran but I didn¡¯t care. In no time at all I was at the towngate, just as I was about to enter a guard stopped me. ¡°Mr Pool, they need you at the vicarage, there¡¯s been a murder.¡± he respectfully reported. Shit! was all I could think. Chapter 13: Murder at The Vicarage II Chapter 13: Murder at The Vicarage II I bounced nervously on the balls of my feet. Part of me wanted desperately to barge past the guard and make my way into the town, his words finally registered, and I chose to follow the man. It wasn¡¯t that I cared much for this town''s criminal matters but he had indicated that this murder had happened at the vicarage and I needed holy water. The guard led me through the town towards the centre, I must have appeared nervous to him as he repeatedly asked if I was alright. After the third time , with great effort, I stilled my mind and steadied my illusionary breath. The spell I cast should last thirteen hours or so, I had time. Then again it had been kludged together on a man who was already being used as a spell component¡­ Best not to dwell on the matter. We walked through the bustling heart of Market Basing and kept going past the church of light in the centre. Soon, we found ourselves in what I would best describe as a wealthy residential area. The houses were grand but far back from the road and the large areas of land each possessed were ringed by high hedges - it would appear that these people respected their privacy. The gate guard showed me to a large iron gate depicting light shining down from the heavens onto some prophet or other. ¡°The inspector is waiting for you inside,¡± the man explained, opening the gate and gesturing inside. I nodded to the guard, there was no need to be rude, then I entered the estate. I followed the gravel path with harried steps as it wound through a range of floral displays and before long found myself in front of a two story thatch-roofed house. Tiny glass panels made up the windows, indicating the owner''s wealth. Looking past the house I could make out an expansive garden, at the end of which was a shed as substantial as one of the poorer houses. Shaking my head, I approached. The two men outside, dressed in identical black gambasons, looked relieved when they saw me and ushered me in without a word. There were more such men inside, turning over the continents of the house, with but a word they pointed in the direction of a door. I entered, only to find a rather startled looking man and woman held in embrace, closing it I turned to the next, that may have been the intended destination. Opening it I found a dark room, clearly some sort of study. There was a bookshelf on one wall and a desk in the centre. The desk was occupied by a clearly dead man. He was bald on the top, indicating his advanced years, he wore fine clothes that demonstrated his wealth. An arrow through his heart and the shocked look on his face proved the earlier conclusion. ¡°Ahh, Mr. Pool, you''re finally here.¡± A tall man with short, dark hair, a black jacket with silver buttons that matched the style of those outside, and cold grey eyes said, proffering a hand. I shook it out of habit before asking, ¡°Is this the Vicar?¡± disappointment and frustration tingeing my tone. The officer looked at me strangely before speaking, ¡°I knew you were not the most pious man but I¡¯m surprised that you wouldn¡¯t even recognize that this is not, in fact, the Vicar. He is being held in the sitting room with the other occupants of the vicarage until such time as this mess is resolved.¡± In other words I won¡¯t be able to get the Vicar to bless some water until this case is solved. I let out a breath of annoyance. Fine, solving a murder can¡¯t be too different from determining the cause of an unexpected magical explosion. And if worse comes to worse I could always point the finger at someone, the law enforcement seemed to trust whoever this Mr Pools was. ¡°Right,¡± I began, removing the fingers from my temples, ¡°Tell me what you have so far.¡± The other man perked up at the instruction. ¡°This is, was, Lucius Sanguis, the local magister and church warden. He was a prominent supporter of the church¡¯s new Paladin but otherwise apolitical. Truth be told he was thought of as a grumpy old man by most, plenty of people disliked him, perhaps enough to kill? Anyhow, he was here today to meet with the Vicar to discuss missing funds from the church¡¯s donations.¡± The officer provided. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°So the Vicar was the last to see him alive?¡± I asked, wandering around the room and stopping at the desk, my eyes drawn to the parchment by an instinct not my own. ¡°No,¡± he replied. ¡°No?¡± I asked, looking up. ¡°The Vicar arrived after the murder and was the one to report it to us,¡± the officer confirmed. ¡°Thank you David, I think I will need to interview the residents,¡± I said, finding my footing with this investigation business. ¡°Of course sir, I¡¯ll prepare the sitting room and have the residents brought to you.¡± I simply nodded as the message on the desk rolled around in my head. Dear Inclement, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t wait any longer¡­ The half finished message was scrawled as if in haste. When David left I examined the room in greater detail, checking all the usual hiding spots. There were plans for the vicar¡¯s sermons, neatly written ledgers in a tiny tidy script, and a large flower pot that contained some kind of droopy plant. The scene seemed to whirl around my head, much as complicated magical theory questions often did; completely blocking the annoying sense of unread notifications that the System gave me. Before long, David opened the door and told me that the room was ready. leaving the crime scene, we walked along a hallway and into a comfortably appointed room. The decor had a cosy, homely feel which belied the furniture''s value. It was exactly the sort of understated fittings both me and myself preferred. Three wingback chairs were arrayed about a stout table the height of my shins. Seated in one, the rather distraught looking Vicar; the two opposite, empty. The aroma of Basing tea filled my nostrils as I sat, I lifted the cup from the table before stopping. Although I had the appearance of a flesh-and-blood man, I was still just bones. Pouring liquid straight onto the cushions may not break the illusion, powerful as it was, but it would certainly raise some eyebrows. Putting the cup down I looked at Vicar Inclement. ¡°Where were you at the time of the murder?¡± I asked in a neutral tone. The Vicar gulped down his tea before answering. ¡°Well I had left, I got word that farmer Bill was on his deathbed,¡± he began in a shaky voice, ¡°of course I wanted to get there as quickly as possible, so I went to the stables¡­ I had forgotten that Betty, my mare you see, was at the farrier¡¯s. Anyway I rushed from town, on foot, to Bill¡¯s farm. When I got there, I found it most peculiar that Bill¡¯s son, Bob, was out working the fields. I approached him asking after his father¡¯s condition. He simply pointed over his shoulder to the man in question, working behind him. Laughs were had allround, and, at that moment, I was most grateful to the holy Light.¡± I held up a hand to stall the man. ¡°Who told you that the farmer was dying?¡± I asked, curiously. ¡°Emm, well I¡¯m not sure,¡± he replied. ¡°You¡¯re not sure?¡± I prompted. ¡°Word came via runner, it was one of the young boys who carries messages,¡± the Vicar responded. ¡°Do you know who the boy was?¡± I pressed. ¡°Yes it was Mary''s son I think, the youngest,¡± he offered, after some thought. ¡°David,¡± I said, addressing the man sat beside me, ¡°could you get one of your men to fetch the lad.¡± ¡°Certainly sir,¡± he said, standing and walking to the door. The man spoke in a quiet tone with the officer standing guard outside, before returning. ¡°And might I ask, do you have your horse shoed regularly?¡± I questioned. ¡°Well, yes. Once every two months,¡± he replied. ¡°On the same day?¡± I inquired further. ¡°Indeed,¡± he responded, puzzled. ¡°Thank you Vicar. Sorry for my interruption, please continue.¡± I prompted, as I reached into my illusionary jacket to retrieve my illusionary notebook, into which I wrote with my illusionary pen. ¡°Where was I¡­ ah yes. With relief I returned, a skip in my step. However something seemed off as soon as I spied the vicarage, there was a chill in the air. When I entered the entryway, I found Mr. Cain, sitting on a bench and looking rather nervous. I asked my maid and he said Mr. Cain had come to see Mr. Sanguis,¡± the Vicar went on. Just then a knock at the door interrupted his retelling. Annoyed, David stood and opened it. Outside, escorted by a guard, was Penter Cain, a man I knew to be a local veteran and artist. I had also seen him earlier, entwined Mrs. Sanguis in the closet. ¡°I have something to confess,¡± the pale, shaking man announced before David or I could ask. Wiping his sweaty forehead he continued: ¡°I killed Lucius Sanguis!¡± Chapter 14: Murder at The Vicarage III Chapter 14: Murder at The Vicarage III I wanted to declare the case closed, wrap this whole thing up and get my holy water. I was about to open my mouth to do just that but the words that came forth were not what I intended. ¡°Vicar, would you be so kind as to retire to the sitting room with the others?¡± I asked with uncharacteristic politeness, ¡°I believe Mr. Cain and I need to have a little chat.¡± After the Vicar was dismissed - his look, one of incredulity - he left the room without a word. I directed Mr. Cain to the prime seat and waved David down, he was too excited to arrest the man. ¡°Please tell us everything.¡± I asked in a comforting voice. ¡°What more is there to tell, I did it, I''m the killer!¡± Cain blabbered, wiping yet more sweat from his brow and looking rather ill. ¡°Why did you come here?¡± I inquired calmly. ¡°I came here to kill the man,¡± he almost wept. ¡°So you say this was premeditated; then Why?¡± ¡°We quarrelled,¡± he blurted out after a moment¡¯s hesitation. ¡°Mr Sanguis is unhappy about how I sculpted his daughter, Cabbage.¡± ¡°I see,¡± I said leaning back in my chair, ¡°And how did you kill him.¡± ¡°With a crossbow,¡± he said, gaining some confidence. I shot a look at David, who, catching my meaning replied: ¡°The whole house is likely aware of the cause of death.¡± ¡°Where might you have shot him?¡± I pressed, leaning forward. ¡°In the head,¡± he replied with more surety. David sighed and I leaned back. ¡°Thought as much.¡± I said to David. ¡°I had hoped that would be case-closed,¡± he replied. ¡°What?¡± Cain asked, looking between the two of us desperately. Ignoring the man''s agitation, I asked a question, ¡°Out of curiosity, why was the deceased angry with you for sculpting his daughter?¡± ¡°She was nude¡­ or he thought her nude¡­ she wore her linens but that was too much for him,¡± Cain explained, stuttering and nodding trying to convince us of his guilt. Just then another knock came at the door. Exasperated, David stood and opened it. The look of shocked bafflement on Penter Cain¡¯s face caused me to turn and examine our newest guest. I had seen her before, she was in the closet with Mr. Cain. ¡°Mrs. Sanguis?¡± David asked, surprised. With a straight back and graceful countenance the beautiful woman replied, ¡°I am here to confess, I killed my husband.¡± I gestured and a guard escorted the blubbering Cain back to the others as he protested, declaring his love for Mrs. Sanguis. Seeing the seat once again empty Mrs. Sanguis strode confidently past Mr. Cain and sat, legs crossed. ¡°I suppose you might have questions?¡± she said, looking me straight in the eye without flinching. Once things had again calmed down, and David was sitting I began a second interrogation. ¡°You will of course forgive me if I don¡¯t take you at your word?¡± I asked rhetorically. Something was wrong with her, I could see it. She raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Why did you come here?¡± I asked. ¡°To kill my husband,¡± she answered, clearly and without hesitation. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°At what time?¡± I asked, not giving her any time to think. ¡°Just past first bell, the maid let me in,¡± she replied. ¡°What was the murder weapon?¡± ¡°A crossbow.¡± ¡°How did you get it?¡± There was a moment of uncertainty, almost imperceptible,¡°It was in my husband''s wardrobe, upstairs. He got it when he fought in the war to the north,¡± she replied, looking just to the right of my eyes. ¡°Why did you kill him?¡± I asked, concluding my litany. ¡°He was a cruel and horrible man. There is a reason that I¡¯m his second wife, I don¡¯t blame Cabbage''s mother for running away,¡± she answered, the first real emotion in her voice. In the silence that followed, I drummed my fingers against the arm of the chair in thought. David finished off the last of his tea with a slurp. Mrs Sanguis looked at us both with a challenging glare. Knock, Knock, Knock! ¡°Oh for the love of all that is bright,¡± David murmured as he stood. At the door this time there was no confessor, to muddy the waters further, but a member of David''s force. In his hand a long, slender crossbow. ¡°Sir, we have found the murder weapon. It was outside, discarded in the bushes,¡± the uniformed man announced. ¡°Are you sure?¡± David asked with surprise. ¡°Yes sir,¡± he confirmed, indicating the fresh blood spots on the wood. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, not understanding David¡¯s puzzlement. ¡°Thank you Jenkins, you did great work.¡± David said to the guard, ¡°Now get this woman out of my sight.¡± Turning to me he replied, ¡°This crossbow was made by the sand tribes to the south, this is not Mr. Sanguis¡¯ crossbow. They are both covering for someone.¡± Mrs Sanguis¡¯ posture remained stiff as she was escorted from the room. David paced back and forth, clearly annoyed. I went to take a sip of tea out of habit but had to again stop myself. ¡°Who do we have left to interview?¡± I asked. ¡°There¡¯s the maid, he¡¯s in the kitchen making more tea, and the Vicar¡¯s wife, contained in the sitting room. Oh and Mr. Hills, the curate but he¡¯s still working at the church,¡± David replied. ¡°I find a change of scenery can help one think, perhaps we can question him there?¡± I offered, standing. It was a sentiment I wholeheartedly agreed with. We walked through the house, coming to the kitchen. There were the faint sounds of conversation within. David opened the door, inside was a burly man with large muscles dressed in a frilly pink dress, alone. ¡°Who were you talking to?¡± David asked. ¡°No one, I was practising a speech,¡± the man replied in a deep voice. David examined the room but, finding it empty, acquiesced. ¡°We need to speak with you Joseph,¡± David explained. ¡°I¡¯ll be right there,¡± Joseph replied, putting down a tray of biscuits and untying his apron. ¡°That¡¯s quite alright,¡± I interjected, walking into the room. ¡°We¡¯d like to speak to you here.¡± I said, emphasising my point by tapping down on a countertop, before leaning against the cupboard beneath that spot. A woman walked in the open door at that moment, looking behind her ¡°Joseph, where''s that tea, oh sorry I didn¡¯t realise you were in here,¡± she apologised. I sighed and looked at David, ¡°Are you just letting these suspects walk wherever they please?¡± ¡°They were instructed to stay in the sitting room but my men were only ordered to stop them if they tried to leave the house or enter the study.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but we can¡¯t be expected to suffer without proper refreshment.¡± The Vicar¡¯s young wife explained with such an infectious smile that it tugged at the corner of my lips. ¡°Fine,¡± I relented, ¡°we can do the two of you together.¡± ¡°Do either of you know what time the murder was committed?¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid not,¡± Mrs. Inclement said, accidently cutting off Joseph, ¡°I was upstairs, powdering my nose. I had to go shortly after Mr. Sanguis arrived for his meeting with Basil,¡± seeing my look of confusion she supplied, ¡°The Vicar.¡± I had intended to ask Joseph for his input, but this line of questioning seemed more interesting. ¡°A meeting you say? You don¡¯t happen to know what this meeting was about do you?¡± I asked the woman. ¡°No, I¡¯m afraid not. When I inquired, Mr. Sanguis was quite insistent that it was a matter only to be discussed with the Vicar,¡± she explained freely. ¡°I see,¡± I said, taking more illusionary notes, ¡°Did he, by any chance, happen to say anything else before you left.¡± ¡°No not¡­ Now that you mention it, when I opened the door he was complaining about that ¡®bloody woman¡¯ again,¡± Mrs. Inclement relayed. ¡°Bloody woman? His wife perhaps?¡± David asked, curious. ¡°Oh good Light no,¡± Narcissa responded, ¡°he was complaining about that woman he had charged with poaching a few months ago, said he had seen her out in his forest again, bow in hand.¡± Joseph seemed to pale slightly at that but only I noticed, ¡°and you, Joseph, do you know at what time the murder was committed?¡± I asked. ¡°No, he was busy preparing lunch,¡± Narcissa Inclement replied. ¡°I can speak for myself,¡± Joseph inserted, lowering the woman''s hand she had raised to stall him. Narcissa looked a bit surprised before she conceded the point. ¡°Now that I look back on it I may have heard the snap of a crossbow string,¡± Joseph replied, looking up and to his left. ¡°You weren¡¯t curious?¡¯ David pressed. ¡°Frankly no, I was too busy making lunch,¡± he replied, somewhat annoyed. ¡°And at what time was that?¡± I asked, cutting off inspector David before he could make a retort. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ actually I do, it was right before the church rang the first bell,¡± he replied. ¡°Thank you, Mrs. Inclement, Joseph. I think that is all we have to ask you,¡± I ended. ¡°It is?¡± David asked, notebook in hand. ¡°It is. However there is still one person we have yet to interview,¡± I said. ¡°There is?¡± David asked. ¡°There is,¡± I said, grimly; swinging around, bending down, and opening the cupboard I was leaning against. Inside was a slight woman with angular features crammed into the space and staring daggers at me. Chapter 15: Murder at The Vicarage IV Chapter 15: Murder at The Vicarage IV My Life Sense had allowed me to notice the woman as soon as I entered the room, so when Joseph asked, open mouthed, ¡°How?¡± I was forced to just smile. ¡°Wow!¡± David exclaimed, ¡°I knew your Detection skill was something but how? I didn¡¯t see anything.¡± Jumping on the excuse I replied, ¡°You¡¯ll get there some day.¡± After another couple of seconds of waiting, the woman huffed in an annoyed tone and untangled herself from the tight space. Once she was free, David began, ¡°I¡¯m placing you under arrest on suspicion of murder.¡± Before either the woman or Joseph could protest I put a hand on the investigator''s shoulder. ¡°Not so fast, I believe we should interview her like the others.¡± ¡°What?¡± David questioned, incredulous, ¡°but she was hiding in the house where a murder was committed, if that isn¡¯t suspicious I don¡¯t know what is.¡± I smiled kindly at the younger man before turning from him to the woman. ¡°Would you be so kind as to introduce yourself?¡± I asked. She looked at me with a slightly puzzled expression before complying, ¡°My name is Sam¡­¡± She was cut off by Mrs. Inclement, ¡°Sam Hunter. She¡¯s the Hunter Mr. Sanguis prosecuted for poaching, he hated her.¡± David raised an eyebrow at the news before coming to a conclusion, ¡°You were trying to get your revenge, is that it?¡± ¡°She would never!¡± Joseph shouted, interposing himself between the two. The woman had remained stoically silent throughout the exchange but the faintest flush adorned her cheeks at the maid¡¯s outburst. ¡°Inspector,¡± I said in a calming tone, ¡°I think whatever is going on here is far more pedestrian.¡± ¡°You do? What is it?¡± he asked, not seeing the picture. ¡°Miss Hunter, how long have the two of you been intertwined?¡± I inquired. David still didn¡¯t seem to understand but by the smile dawning on Mrs. Inclement¡¯s face, she clearly did. ¡°Oh Joseph, darling, why didn¡¯t you tell me? You wouldn¡¯t have had to sneak around like this,¡± Narcissa Inclement gushed. Whatever tinged Sam Hunter''s cheeks seemed to be contagious as it crawled its way up Joseph''s face, they unconsciously moved closer to each other. ¡°Let me guess, you were too busy investigating each other to determine the cause of the strange noise?¡± I asked. It finally clicked for David and he spluttered before looking back and forth between the pair, ¡°but how did you get in, no one reported seeing you enter.¡± The quiet elven woman seemed to find her footing with this as she scoffed, ¡°There are any number of ways to get into a house as big as this unseen.¡± ¡°What about the garden?¡± David followed up. ¡°It abuts many other gardens and the far hedge borders a public park,¡± Sam replied, derision in her tone. ¡°Just so I can be clear here, you hunt with a bow, not a crossbow?¡± I interjected, as the thought came to me. ¡°Of course. No self respecting elven huntress would ever touch anything but an elven made bow,¡± she replied, turning her judgemental eyes on me. I nodded at the confirmation. ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± I said to David, ¡°Anyone might have entered the grounds. We should expand the search and interview the neighbours.¡± David sighed as he had when he was a much younger officer and replied, ¡°Not door duty?¡± ¡°Yes, door duty,¡± I responded, flatly. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse us, Mrs. Inclement, Joseph, Sam. And David, do make sure your men are aware of our newest guest.¡± With that I left, my instincts told me more could be learned this way. David seemed unsure of my decision but followed dutifully. We bayed adieu to the guards that remained as we left the estate, following the road along to the next house. The hedges that surrounded this property were flowering in any number of colours and, as we entered through the floral archway, it was clear that whoever lived here had a great fondness for gardening. Approaching the thatch-roofed cottage through the roses tunnel, I heard the sound of buzzing bees and could just make out the silhouettes of skep through the foliage. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. At the white door, painted with flowers, we found the cord and David rang the bell. After the few minutes of obligatory waiting that unsolicited calls required, the door opened. On the other side, a hunched-over, elderly woman that appeared to match that skeleton for age peered out through squinting eyes. She was wearing a straw hat and holding a muddy trowel. Looking us up and down speculatively until she seemed to recognise me. ¡°Mr. Pools, what a pleasant surprise. Please, do come in. I¡¯ve just stopped for my afternoon tea. Did you hear about what happened at the Vicarage, terrible business that,¡± she rattled off, turning and leading us inside. ¡°I always thought that Mr. Sanguis was a bit of a fool but I¡¯m surprised that anyone would want to kill him. The only thing he did get right was supporting that Orlando fellow, he doesn¡¯t tolerate any funny business, oh the stories I could tell you about the old Paladin, people though he spent all his time in the capital but I¡¯ll have you know there was a special someone he visited. Not a celibate that one let me tell you. Much like that Miss Cabbage, Lucius¡¯ daughter, posing nude for that artist Cain. Back in my day if a woman was to act like that she would be cast out. That¡¯s when things were done properly,¡± the old woman rambled as we came to yet another sitting room. ¡°Excuse me, but how did you know about the murder? It only happened a few hours ago,¡± David asked, his face wrinkled. ¡°I was busy trimming the hawthorn, which abuts the Vicarage, when I saw Mr. Inclement stumble out, looking awfully pale. Well of course I asked what was wrong, and offered him a cup of tea, as any good neighbour should. I was shocked when he began mumbling about murder, told me the whole story. At which point I told him, I said, you must go, fetch the constabulary! Naturally he complied, nodding all the while, and by the looks of you, you must be some sort of officer no? I suppose that makes you one too Mr. Pools?¡± she finally got around to asking. ¡°I dabble, Miss Gardener,¡± I replied, finally recognizing the woman from my weekly bowls club. ¡°Now, you didn¡¯t happen to hear anything else. Let''s say, around first bell?¡± I inquired. ¡°Hmm, let me see,¡± she said, drinking a sip of tea, ¡°yes there was something, it sounded just like someone sneezing. I thought they might be hiding in my hedge, didn¡¯t half give me a fright.¡± David gave me a look before saying, ¡°that could have been Sam.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± I replied before addressing Miss Gardener, ¡°At what time was this?¡± ¡°Seconds before first bell,¡± she replied. ¡°I don¡¯t think it was her,¡± I told David, ¡°in fact, I don¡¯t think it was a sneeze at all,¡± I said before turning back to Miss Gardener. ¡°Did you happen to see anything else suspicious?¡± ¡°Yes, as it so happens I did,¡± she replied, once she had torn her eyes from David''s puzzled expression. ¡°You know that woman, new in town, calls herself Miss Estrange,¡± she began, leaning in conspiratorially. ¡°I¡¯ve noticed that she''s been having a gentleman caller over almost every day. Not much of a gentleman if you ask me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry Miss but that¡¯s not quite what he meant,¡± David said. ¡°Ahh, but guess who it was?¡± the old lady continued. When neither of us spoke; she answered, ¡°it was Doctor Winwick!¡± When the news didn¡¯t get the response she was hoping for, she carried on, ¡°Doctor Winwick, who¡¯s been married for more than a decade.¡± ¡°Miss Gardener,¡± I responded, ¡°might it be that Miss Estrange is unwell.¡± ¡°Ohh, no I don¡¯t think so. You¡¯d have to be on death''s door to need so many visits and she looks perfectly healthy.¡± ¡°Was he carrying his bag?¡± David asked. ¡°Well, I suppose.¡± Miss Gardener conceded, dejectedly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Miss, but is there anything else you might have seen regarding the Vicarage?¡± I asked, changing the subject. ¡°Not really, only some comings and goings,¡± she responded. ¡°Any of today''s visitors?¡± I pressed. Excited at the renewed interest, Miss Gardener spoke, ¡°Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I saw when the Vicar left, about twelfth bell. He went to the stable but looked put out when he returned on foot. Then there was Mr. Sanguis, of course, arrived about half past. A coach dropped him off, I remember because the clattering of hooves disturbed my nap. Let me see¡­ then it was Mr. Cain about twenty to one.¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± David interjected, noting all this down. ¡°Oh quite sure,¡± she replied, ¡°I clearly recall him coming in from that shed he uses as a studio, entering the back of the house, before coming back out and going round to the front. He was only in there for about five minutes.¡± ¡°Was he carrying anything?¡± David asked, professionally. ¡°I couldn¡¯t see him clearly, he was through the hedge and across the garden you see,¡± she replied. ¡°Was there anyone else?¡± I asked. ¡°Hmm, let me think. Ah, how could I forget, Mrs. Sanguis also came to the Vicarage. That would be at about ten to. She came over to the hedge I was trimming and said hi.¡± ¡°Was she carrying anything?¡± David repeated. ¡°No, and the dress she was wearing was of a modern sort, nowhere to hide a thing,¡± Miss Gardener replied, annoyed. Before long we found ourselves concluding the interview and we were sent off, biscuits in hand. When we were back on the road that connected this neighbourhood, David piped up: ¡°The thing I don¡¯t understand, is the Note the Victim wrote. He had gone there for a meeting with the Vicar, could it be about the church¡¯s misappropriated funds?¡± Before I could correct him a uniformed man came running up to us. ¡°Sir,¡± he panted, catching his breath. ¡°We found something at the Sanguis residence.¡± ¡°Really, what?¡± David asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I was just told to get you,¡± the man replied, hands on his knees. ¡°Come then Mr. Pools, we should get there quickly,¡± David urged. ¡°You go ahead, I would like to visit the Curate, Mr Hills. And I¡¯m quite sure,¡± I concluded, waving David away. The two left at a brisk pace towards the Sanguis¡¯. I pondered the evidence as I meandered toward the church. As small as Market Basing was, it took barely any time to reach the site. Standing on the threshold I could feel the holy energies within. One more step and I might be able to get rid of that Lich Controlling me. I poked my little finger through and a distal phalanx fell to the sacred ground. Chapter 16: Murder at The Vicarage V Chapter 16: Murder at The Vicarage V The sound of bone bouncing off stone brought some of me back to my senses, unfortunately I wasn¡¯t the only one to hear it. ¡°Coming,¡± a reedy voice announced, followed by slapping foot steps, not feet inside. Slightly panicking, I hid my shortened finger behind my back, just in time as seconds later a tall and sallow man rounded a pew and smiled weakly at me. ¡°Mr. Hills I presume?¡± I asked, my hands clasped behind my back and my posture overly straight, I kept the corner of my eye on the tiny bone. ¡°Yes. Mr. Pools, what a pleasant surprise. I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t chat, there is still lots of work to do. We have a wedding tomorrow you see,¡± Mr. Hills answered unprovoked, unconsciously retreating. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we need to talk Mr. Hills,¡± I insisted, remaining at the threshold. Unfortunately my eyes must have glanced one too many times at my severed finger as Mr. Hills¡¯ sunken eyes lingered on the unfamiliar yellowed object with intricately carved black runes. ¡°What''s that?¡± he asked. My bones creaked as I clenched my hands together. Mr. Hills¡¯ gangly form scurried across the church floor, all uncoordinated elbows and knees. Before he could pick it up, a misplaced foot sent the digit flying back through the doorway. Without my conscious will it proceeded to fly up beside my legs, gaining speed until it reconnected with my finger. ¡°What was that?¡± Mr Hills asked once he¡¯d got his unwieldy body under control. ¡°What was what?¡± I asked, feigning ignorance. ¡°That thing, it was a bug or something I think.¡± Mr. Hills replied, with an ailing contenance. ¡°Are you quite alright? Perhaps you need some fresh air?¡± I asked, appearing concerned as I moved so he might pass. After a moment of consideration he signed, shook his head, and followed me out into the late afternoon light. We strolled for a while in an amicable silence around the graveyard, smelling the flowers. Before long Mr. Hills regained a healthy complexion, I was content to wait and see what he might say. ¡°There¡¯s only one reason you might come looking for me. Mr. Sanguis said something, didn''t he?¡± Mr. Hills asked. I simply raised an eyebrow as I deadheaded a daffodil. I hoped my resistance would provoke further explanation but it seemed to do the opposite. He must have noticed something in my expression for he immediately clammed up. Our walk continued in awkward aplomb for a few more moments. ¡°Mr. Sanguis is dead,¡± I finally revealed when a bench was in range. It turned out to be a wise choice as Mr. Hill''s expression went through an uncomprehending smile, confusion and finally shock. When the last emotion landed upon him, he ,in turn, landed heavily on the seat. The colour once again fled his features as he mumbled something to himself. ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, sitting next to the man. ¡°How?¡± was all he whispered out, staring off into nothing. ¡°Murder,¡± I replied simply. Mr. Hills nodded, ¡°They wouldn¡¯t have called you if not.¡± It took some time before the man was recovered enough to engage in conversation, eventually he stood and I led him in the direction of the Vicarage. As we walked we talked. ¡°Where were you at, or around, first bell?¡± I asked, gently. ¡°I was cleaning and preparing the church, have been all day,¡± he replied. ¡°Alone?¡± I inquired. ¡°Yes, why?¡± he asked after some thought. ¡°So there is no one to corroborate your story?¡± I pressed. ¡°No¡­ wait, perhaps. Eric might have seen me when he came in to ring the hourbell,¡± he answered after a moment. ¡°I see, I¡¯ll have to get someone to check that,¡± I replied. Further questioning proved fruitless as he was hardly in a fit state of mind, claiming he would be of more use once he took some of his anxiety medication. So we walk, him leaning heavily on my arm, back to the vicarage. When we reached the front gate, Inspector David was outside; pacing back and forth, an annoyed look shadowing his features. By this time Mr. Hills had regained enough of his faculties to walk himself down the garden path, so I left him to his own devices and came to talk with David. ¡°What was the ruckus at the Sanguis residence?¡± I asked. His face brightened slightly upon seeing me and he replied, ¡°Nothing much, certainly not worth the runner. A painting was discovered, a portrait that had been so badly torn up that all that could be made out was fair hair.¡± Upon seeing my confusion he continued, ¡°In fairness to my men, one of the constables claims that the painting was intact and hanging in the study when they first arrived but had been destroyed right under their noses. Although he doesn''t remember what it looked like, having only seen it in passing.¡± After a moment¡¯s hesitation I asked, ¡°What of the other Sanguis, Cabbage, the daughter?¡± ¡°Still no sign of her,¡± David replied glumly. ¡°You think she might have had a hand in this.¡± I only shrugged as we returned to canvassing the neighbourhood. Unfortunately none of the other neighbours were quite as helpful as Miss Gardener. Most had seen or heard nothing of note and those that had weren¡¯t consistent in their descriptions. The sun was a thumbs width from setting when we came to the last house in the area, the residence of Mrs. Estrange. A house on the opposite side of the Vicarage to Miss Gardener. Knocking on the door received a swift response although I suspect we were not who the woman dressed in black expected. Blonde curls framed a pale face, studded with two sapphire eyes. ¡°Oh, who are you?¡± the woman asked, hiding her startlement. ¡°Inspector Wainwright and Mr. Pools, we need to speak to you regarding a recent incident,¡± David repeated for the innumerable time. ¡°Then by all means come in,¡± she said neutrally, opening the door wider and stepping aside. As she led us through a corridor I could hear faint noises in the room we approached, however when arriving in the living room, there was no one in sight. That said, something about the room granted against my Detection skill. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back with some tea.¡± Mrs. Estrange explained before departing. Raising a finger to my lips I began searching the room. On the bureau I found some half finished correspondence that indicated Mrs. Estrange''s willingness to get to know an unspecified someone. I also found biscuit crumbs beneath two chairs and an ajar closet door. The last wasn¡¯t really necessary since I had Life Sense but I would leave that mess for later. On the bureau I also found a jewellery box and when David was looking the other way I swiped a pendant with a rather large ruby inside. Part of me railed against the idea of theft but that part had never grown up cold and alone on the streets, and besides that part of me had proved itself a liability, so I quashed it ruthlessly. Mrs. Estrange returned with a tray of tea as was custom. It was considered rude to decline, however following the fifth such offering, David had taken after me in refusing. She sat in a seat opposite the two of us. Her answers to the regular questions were unextraordinary. Finally we broke new ground. ¡°So you don¡¯t have any skeletons in your closet?¡± I asked, knocking on the closet in question. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. She sighed, slight annoyance tingeing her features, ¡°everyone does inspector, but if you are referring to Cabbage I think it is high time she stops hiding,¡± Mrs. Estrange replied, the last in a loader tone. Only David and Miss Cabbage were surprised when the young woman exited her bolthole. With a timid expression she left hiding, eyes fixed on the floor, red face covered by straight blond hair. ¡°Young lady, we have been searching all over for you!¡± David exclaimed when his wits returned. ¡°I know,¡± she replied meekly. Not waiting for David¡¯s emotions to ruin this opportunity I chose to butt in, ¡°Why were you hiding?¡± I asked in a cold tone. After she explained, I was almost certain I had cracked this case. Before my summations could solidify a knock came at the door, followed by another. Mrs. Estrange excused herself and moments later returned with two people in tow. First was Dr. Winwick carrying a medical bag, he was unable to divulge the reason for his visit as the second man to enter was one of David''s officers with a desperate look upon his face. ¡°Sir, urgent news,¡± the man blurted out. ¡°Mr. Hills was found unconscious in his room at the vicarage, collapsed on the floor.¡± David Wainwright stood, a serious expression on his face. ¡°Dr. Winwick, would you be so kind as to follow me?¡± he ordered. Before the man could protest Mrs. Estrange urged him on. ¡°Actually, I think we should bring Mrs. Estrange and Miss Cabbage as well,¡± I insisted. Before long, I found myself back at the Vicarage. Indeed, we found, lying in a heap on the ground, Mr. Hills. An inspection of his room revealed two key pieces of evidence. Thanks to Dr. Winwick¡¯s timely arrival we were assured that the victim would live, although it was a near thing. ¡°David, I think it is time we assemble all the suspects in the sitting room,¡± I declared. He seemed relieved at the news and some of the stress left him. Taking the Vicar aside I asked him to prepare two pints of holy water. Although he was confused, he complied; I only needed half a pint but one could never be too careful. All took their place in the sitting room, I went to Mr. Cain''s studio, the shed in the back of the garden and found what I was expecting. Now it was time to solve this mystery, I had the ingredients needed for the spell but something felt wrong about leaving without finishing the job. ? ¡°Greetings everybody.¡± I began, indicating; Mrs. Sanguis, Mr. Cain, Joseph, Sam, Mrs. Inclement, Mr. Inclement, Mrs. Estrange, Miss Cabbage, and Dr. Winwick in turn. The only one absent, Mr. Hills, as he was still unconscious. Their eyes followed me as I paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, a raging fire behind me. I began to monologue, ¡°When I first arrived here I wondered why an upstanding member of the community, a magister and church warden, would be murdered. Through the course of my investigation, I discovered any number of reasons. Perhaps his disagreements with Sam Hunter got out of hand?¡± I asked rhetorically, receiving a glare from the named party. ¡°Perhaps his quarrel with Mr. Cain, regarding the sculpting of his daughter, escalated beyond reason? Perhaps the motive was the oldest one of them all?¡± I said wistfully. ¡°With such a nebulous motive, we must turn to what we know, the facts. With the doctors'' own collaboration, we can be sure that the victim died within an hour of first bell. He was killed by a crossbow bolt through the heart. The notch on the bolt matches the width of the string on the Crossbow we discovered, discarded, in the bushes. Thanks to Inspector Wainwright we know that this weapon does not come from any of the northern wars, in which our victim served. In fact, when searching his house we discovered no trophies or artefacts from the southern sand tribes, from which this device hails.¡± I stopped, raising my finger. ¡°Mr. Sanguis is not the only veteran in this room however, but I digress. Opportunity, who here had the opportunity to kill the man. Miss Hunter, who had gained illegal entry to the property and done so without the knowledge of all but one of its occupants. This is suspicious, no? she certainly had the perfect opportunity, but not the means. Being an elven hunter she has only ever used traditional bows, not to mention the angle of attack precluded someone of Miss Hunter¡¯s height. On top of this, she was subtle in her trespass, she is a Hunter and knew how to be stealthy, something I found at the crime scene pointed to someone far cruder. The note left beside the body, the one which read, Dear Inclement, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t wait any longer¡­, it was clearly not written in Mr. Sanguis¡¯ hand. I merely had to reach over to the bookcase and pick any of the church records to see that the man was neat and meticulous in his writings. This, this was crude. Almost as crude as trying to remove from our notice, the identity of someone, in an otherwise innocuous portrait, by destroying the offending item and leaving its remains strewn across the sitting room floor. Miss Cabbage.¡± I said, turning to the young lady, who couldn¡¯t meet my eye. ¡°Correct me if I¡¯m wrong, but here is how I assume the events preceding this act of vandalism played out. Some days ago you received a letter from Mr. Sanguis¡¯ first wife, your mother, who you had not seen since childhood. A woman with whom you identified as she had escaped your fathers oppression, isn¡¯t that right Mrs. Estrange?¡± I waited for the gasps to die down before continuing. ¡°In it she expressed a desire to connect with you and a hatred for her former husband, your father. Then today, shortly after lunch, you hear men knock at your door, instead of answering you decide to listen to what they are saying. You learn that your father is dead, naturally you suspect your mother. She just arrived in town and soon after your father is dead. It has been too long since they knocked and having not answered you decide to remain hidden, whilst the officers investigate your house. You want to protect your newly returned mother. Understandably, you just lost your father and you never connected with his new wife.¡± The last only elicited an apathetic look from Mrs. Sanguis, who in the firelight seemed remarkably pale. ¡°You destroyed her painting so that she might not be connected to her former husband. Then you went to her residence to tell her what you had done whereupon you learned she did not in fact kill her former husband. I know this for a specific reason. The victim did not move here with his family until after he married his second wife. That being the case, how could she possibly know the day on which the Vicar¡¯s horse was being shod and direct him out of the house on a wild goose chase. Speaking of, David¡¯s men followed up with the messenger, who had delivered the message which caused the Vicars departure. According to him, the man who gave him this letter was completely unremarkable, so much so that he couldn¡¯t even remember the colour of his hair. I suspect an enchantment or charm.¡± Just as my undead half was about to ramble on about the differences I curtailed his explanation. ¡°Crude. This crime was crude¡­ or was it? Earlier today, as many of you know, Mr. Hills fell ill. What you may not know was that the man was poisoned. Luckily Dr. Winwick was able to attend to him within minutes. And thanks to him we learned that his usual tincture, prescribed by the good doctor for anxiety, was, in fact, exchanged for another. In the course of investigating Mr. Hills¡¯ room, I found a note hidden in his diary, clearly written in Mr. Sanguis¡¯ hand. Dear Hills, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t wait any longer, the funds which have gone missing all lead back to you. I have warned you about this before and this time I must inform the Vicar. This was Mr. Sanguis¡¯ last words. So how did it come to be in Mr. Hills room. Did he sneak out of the church, clamber through a hedge, without anyone seeing, and kill Mr. Sanguis only to retain his final words; as what, a keepsake? Then are we to infer that he chose to kill himself, since the guilt was too much. He did, after all, steal that money. How much of a leap is it to assume the rest? Crude, crude is not the right word¡­ Brazen perhaps? Brazen, yes it seems apt. They lead a trail of bread crumbles so obvious even a blind duck might follow it, all whilst staring us in the face. Here is what happened. At twenty to one exactly, Mr. Cain left his studio, entered the rear of the vicarage, left ten minutes later then went in the front. He spent the rest of time sitting in the entrance hall and waiting for the Vicar to arrive. He did not kill Mr. Sanguis. He was waiting in the entryway at the time of the murder. Next to enter the house was Mrs. Sanguis, again through the back entrance then the front. She made sure she was seen by a rather noisy neighbour. She was not carrying any weapons, let alone a crossbow. The Vicar, being a man of peace, owned no weapons so how could she kill him? There are two pieces left to this puzzle, that when slotted into place complete the picture. First, Mr. Cain fought against the Sand tribes in the southern war, he is the only one to whom the crossbow could belong. When I inspected his studio, sure enough I found other quarrels that shared a profile with the murder weapon. Second, Mr. Cain and Mrs. Sanguis were engaged in an affair.¡± Once David calmed the enraged Mr. Cain I continued. Mrs. Sanguis only stared Icily, sending shivers down my spine. ¡°Mr. Cain entered the building first, placing his crossbow and an arrow in a flower pot in the hallway. I later checked and found the imprint in the soil. Mrs. Sanguis then took the weapon and slew her husband, taking the opportunity to divert attention to Mr. Hills when she discovered what the victim had been writing. Or perhaps she already knew, even though she claimed he hadn¡¯t revealed the reason for his visit. Then by either guilt or her direction, Mr. Cain is confused, getting some critical information wrong. Followed by her own confession, preceded by the fake confession and again containing misinformation we were unlikely to ever believe. Crude, no this crime was not crude.¡± I ended my monologue. I had become too caught up in my speech and barely reacted in time to the white blur headed straight for me. White fangs glistened in the fire light as, to everyone''s shock, Mrs. Sanguis darted towards me. I stumbled back; grasping one of the anointed pint glasses, I doused the berserk Vampire with most of the liquid, some splashing back on me. Whatever I possessed that passed for adrenaline, protected me from the pain. Thinking quickly, David snapped off a table leg and stabbed it through the hissing and smoking creature''s heart while it still fumbled. I smiled; not at the completion of a case, not at the defeat of an evil vampire, but because for the first time in hours my thoughts were completely my own. There was no confusion with who I was. Frowning, I realised that also meant, the life force, the soul force that had plagued me was gone. Looking down I confirmed it. I was no longer dressed as any elderly town¡¯s man might. I was once again in my stolen monk''s robes. My hands were no longer those of a slightly chubby retiree, but the skin and bone of a lifelong scholar (minus the skin). Reaching up to my face, I could feel it was uncovered, just as it had been when I cast the illusion spell. The room¡¯s attention was turning from the remains of their first foe to that of their second; all I could think was: ¡°Shit!¡± Chapter 17: Escape? Chapter 17: Escape? Nine pairs of eyes stared at me, uncomprehending. I was surrounded. Slowly I reached out a reboneified hand toward the unspilt glass of holy water. Lifting it gentilly from the side table, with my other hand I took the coaster it had been resting on and held it on top. That was as far as I got before all hell broke loose. David Wainwright was the first to react, as before. Brandishing his ash covered table leg he charged in. With recently sharpened skills I was barely able to dodge the blow. The sudden action provoked the rest into motion. Those who would scream and flee before finally did so now. Those left were; David, three of his men, Dr Winwick and a dazed Mr. Cain, who nonetheless seemed to be looking forward to some reconciliatory violence. ¡°How long?¡± Dr Winwick of all people asked. While the other two seemed to be out for bone marrow he seemed to have kept his head although he did withdraw an oddly large hammer from his bag. ¡°How long have you been undead?¡± ¡°That is a difficult question to answer.¡± I answered as I side stepped a charging Mr. Cain, putting the over extended Mr. Wainwright at my back. ¡°Really?¡± The doctor followed up, keeping a careful distance from the fight and waiting. ¡°I¡¯m not the person you think I am.¡± I stated as a blow struck me from my blind spot, one of the soldiers had got a lucky hit in with his truncheon. I have to say it is an odd thing to see your body flying away from you and yet feel perfectly still. My head bounced off the back of the fireplace giving me an orange tinged view of the body I still controlled. Jerking myself aside of Davids follow up attack, a good gulp of the poorly sealed holy water splashed onto my bones. Now it truly felt as if I were burning. The resulting steam cloud would have been good if it didn¡¯t obscure me from my sight as well. ¡°Then who are you?¡± Dr Winwick asked, his voice seeming colder but just as measured. I tried to answer but all that came out was a cry of pain. The men that were flailing about in the mist for me turned at the sound. One of the men, Jenkins I think, had the initiative to stand in front of the fireplace so I couldn¡¯t see as the fog dissipated. When the Steam cleared and the burning stopped I felt my body being piled on. I lost track of the holy water in the scuffle. When my body was restrained and I was allowed to see it again, miraculously, the glass of holy water was two thirds full and off to the side of the brawl. The officers had used their coats to tie up my old bones and try as I might I couldn¡¯t break the bindings. ¡°I say again,¡± Dr Winwick said, ¡°Who are you?¡± as he spoke he lowered his guard and walked up to the fire. The other men, save for Jenkins, were still out of breath. ¡°I am Osseus, Archmagus¡± I replied, coughing out soot. ¡°What¡¯s an Archmagus?¡± David asked, stumbling over red faced. He only received a shrug from the doctor. ¡°Well, Osseus, where is Mr. Pools? Is he dead?¡± Dr Winwick questioned. ¡°Not yet.¡± I mumbled, trying to think my way out of this predicament. David seemed to relax some at that but the good doctor did not. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Where is he?¡± Doctor Winwick inquired, in an accusatory tone. Then it came to me, ¡°I can take you to him, but now that the Illusion is broken he won¡¯t have long.¡± David showed his shock, still too close to fighting to properly control his expressions. The doctor on the other hand seemed to mull over my words. Finally he seemed to come to a decision. ¡°I don¡¯t like this, but I think you¡¯re telling the truth.¡± he finally spoke aloud. ¡°Why?¡± David asked, the pain in his voice evident. ¡°Why would he do any of this, what does he gain from solving a murder. Is this some kind of undead dispute between,¡± He stopped a second to scan me, ¡°Lich¡¯s and Vampires¡­ What''s a Lich.¡± ¡°I think they¡¯re like necromancers, What have you done to Mr Pools?!¡± Winwick accused. ¡°First of all I¡¯m not a necromancer, though I do know the theory behind it and I may or may not have conducted some experiments.¡± I added under my flaming breath. ¡°What?¡± David asked, appalled. ¡°Nothing, I¡­ found him suffering from a head wound. I needed some supplies from the town so cast an illusion that also linked his life to my lack there of and before I knew it I was¡­ sort of roped into working.¡± I explained, the words seeming ridiculous to my own ear holes. They asked some more questions but my answers were half hatred as my analytical half, now freed of Mr. Pool''s clutches, was busy questioning how exactly my bones were still connected. In the past when a part was severed from me, say a finger, I would lose all connection to it. Why then does it feel as though my body and head are still firmly attached. Did other major bones behave the same? Could I be split perfectly in half and still feel both sides? And what exactly connected my bones together? The system had described the connection as magical but I couldn¡¯t feel any magic binding me. What else could it be though? By the time I had risen from my deep reverie I had been fished from the fire via poker and mounted atop a cane they had found somewhere. My body was hoisted on the shoulders of two rather bruised men that seemed to be eyeing one another warily. When everyone had calmed down and turned their attention to saving their beloved old man I used the Wind Breath spell to lift the holy water up between my legs to hide amongst my coat bindings. The holy water seemed to have the side effect of clearing up the after effects of my mana sickness, casting no longer hurt! Before I knew it I was heading a procession leaving the sleepy town. The two guards on watch were surprised at the turn of events, relayed to them by David, one of them chose to follow his officers while the other went to martial the militia. While David seemed to be driven by the idea of saving his friend the Doctor kept shooting me sceptical looks. He seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. ¡°You were wrong, earlier.¡± He whispered when the others were out of earshot. Drawn out of my calculations of how much mana per second would be required to maintain a constant kinetic link between two hundred and six small objects, assuming each is connected to two minus the number of points on the human skeleton, I replied, ¡°Hmmmm, what now? ¡­ How so?¡± ¡°There were more than two veterans in that room. I served on the undead plains. I know undead. You¡¯re wrong.¡± He almost hissed. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been called a lot of things, but never wrong.¡± I shot back, narrowing my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re a skeleton. They¡¯re supposed to be only one step above mindless undead. If we¡¯re unlucky they might know how to fight in formation. The few higher level whites that I saw captured could only go on and on about how they would kill everything in sight. David says your level is about the same as his, twenty, that''s not enough to overcome your hatred for the living. Before I came over it was as if you''d forgotten about us. I¡¯ve only heard about that level of control in undead generals. There¡¯s something wrong with you. This is part of a bigger plan isn¡¯t it. You¡¯re hiding something.¡± He spewed on angrily, I had turned out most of it as the maths was still going around in my head. ¡°Is this a diversion, answer me?¡± the doctor asked this time actually hissing. I only laughed as I finally figured out the equation, the magical connection was being powered by the ambient mana. It was such a subtle working that it had felt as if it was part of the natural mana flows. The amount of mana required for the connections was exactly equal to the rate of mana flux through air meaning it was basically invisible. Dr Winwick seemed about to hit me, for some reason, when David stepped in asking for directions. I pointed him toward the abandoned cabin. Chapter 18: Blood and Demons Chapter 18: Blood and Demons I was being marched across a wheat field, towards the waking demon, struggling to figure out how I might save Dante, when something in the ambient mana changed. It took me a moment to recognize the feeling. I last experienced this years ago, when I had been studying aquatic buffalo - in hopes of uncovering how they seemingly parted the water while running across its surface. I had discovered the phenomenon was not a continuous spell on their part, but a natural effect that happened when they ran as a group. The mana around me now, felt not like a stampede of water creatures, but of ones of blood abominations. ¡°On guard! Prepare for battle,¡± I shouted in a long forgotten commander''s voice. The veterans were easy to spot amongst the townsfolk as they didn¡¯t hesitate to draw knives and bludgeons, looking around warily. The others followed their lead and soon my head and body were at the centre of a circle of cautious men. Dr Winwick was inside the line, eyeing me suspiciously, but to his credit, he had taken out his healing supplies, prepared to tend any wound. We didn¡¯t have to wait long. A dark cloud came sweeping across the night sky from the direction of the forest. It boiled with blood mana stoked by anger. This was practically natural magic, the most dangerous and powerful kind. Its shadow covered the moon, sweeping across the field from the tree line, in its wake came twisted limbs and shrieking fangs. I had to turn down my mana vision to see through the miasma of blood that surrounded us. This was no stampede of water buffalo, this was far worse. ¡°Vampires,¡± I called, in the same confident tone as before. Pendants of a variety of deities were revealed by the militia, most however, seemed to venerate the Light. A few brief prayers resounded in shaky voices before the night air fell deathly silent. A scream broke the quiet as a claw tore a gash in a woman''s arm, she, in turn, tore that claw from the monster. It was the first of many. More than a dozen feral vampires, that felt far more dead than Mrs. Sanguis, attacked our group, unfazed by pain or regret. My body was discarded to the ground and the man who had held my cane-mounted skull dropped it to fend off fangs. My head rolled. Up, I saw blood and carnage; down, and I saw dirt. Up, I saw guts and gore; down, and I saw earth. I thumped to a stop against a discarded pile of coats, not my body thought I could sense it through a strange connection. Like letting go of one''s bladder, I tried to release the boney bonds. In an environment as full of tension and turmoil as this it was hard to relax. But I had pissed in worse conditions, so it wasn¡¯t long before the solid mass of coats behind me collapsed. Focusing on the bones from the head down, I was able to reconnect them; one by one. Each floating over to my skull with the power of Bone Articulation. By the time I had pulled myself together, the lines of battle had blurred. A once unified front had turned into scattered brawls between the survivors of both sides. I crawled out amongst body parts and ash, aiming for the cabin. One of the living spotted me and tried to intercept, but they were, in turn, stopped by a one legged vampire, which clawed at their face. Plenty of vampires saw me as I retreated from the battle but to them it was as if I didn¡¯t exist. They completely ignored me. Once I had cleared the carnage, I got up and began to run, holy-water in hand. More had been spilt in the fight but I was still left with just over half. The moist surface of the glass scalded me as I ran but I gave it no mind. Bursting into the cabin, the scene was much as I had left it. Mr. Pools twitching in a pool of his own blood and Dante beginning to twitch as well. I didn¡¯t have long. As screams and wails of fury and pain filled the night I began my demonic working. Using Bone Claws I carved a summoning diagram into the dirt floor of the hut, surrounding Dante. I strengthened it with some salt and then added the components. A bag of silver was placed atop the possessed¡¯s head and a ruby, pried from its fitting, rested on his tongue. I could feel the binding magic weaken as Mr. Pools drew closer to death. I began to chant the second layer of the spell as my hands worked the first. Nearing the end of the magic Mr. Pools finally kicked the bucket and the spell, holding Dante, began to unravel. It wasn¡¯t immediate, but slowly he began to move. ¡°I smell blood!¡± A booming voice said as it took in a deep breath. ¡°This is quite the welcome you have given me, mortal mage.¡± The voice tried to sound strong and intimidating. My spell completed halfway through his sentence and the voice of a powerful demon was replaced by the annoying nasal squeak of an imp. The horns, red eyes, and fangs slid out sideways from Dantes body as they formed a new form. With red skin, sharp teeth, and wings coming out of its back, it might have been intimidating if the creature weren¡¯t all of two feet tall. ¡°Great, all that effort for an imp,¡± I mumbled under my breath as the two separated. Unfortunately, although the demon was buzzing about, striking the sealing circle, Dante remained unconscious. ¡°I heard that!¡± Squeaked the imp indignantly, ¡°I am no mere imp, I am the great and powerful Sqwent,¡± It declared, after bouncing off the barrier for the third time. ¡°Ah, great, it¡¯s stupid too,¡± I complained to myself. Before the creature could blow its top I continued, ¡°Sqwent I command you, stop trying to escape,¡± I said, tiredly. He was pulled back from the edge, every time he tried to ram the barrier he was restrained by his own body. One of the peculiarities of demons is, if someone with more magical power than the demon commands them, using their name, they have to obey. It was how demon armies were controlled. ¡°How are you doing that! You¡¯re not even a mage,¡± it screeched. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°Oh right,¡± I mumbled, my exhaustion making me forget. To help recover from the mana sickness I had shielded my core so no one could see my mana. Demons had an uncanny sense for magic and if this one was even a little more powerful it would likely be able to see through my defences. Since I had been cured of any remaining symptoms, I released the hold on my core. The response was immediate, mana pulsed out of me, stilling the chaotic blood miasma for a second. Sometimes, I forgot how impactful the mana of an Archmagus could be on the environment; since my tower and the surrounding valley was warded against such interference. The pulse reached up to the heavens, and they opened. Lightning crashed and thunder boomed as the cabin was suddenly assaulted by falling water. Sqwent prostrated himself as the sudden change in mana had a more profound effect on the magical demon. His insides boiled to the surface of his skin and he vomited out offal as he gently keened. Whether in fear or admiration I couldn¡¯t tell, demons seemed to mix the two. Once the ambient mana calmed, the demon returned to normal. ¡°Please forgive my impertinence Defiler, If I had known I wouldn¡¯t have behaved so rudely. Please, spare me from your experiments,¡± the demon squeaked, the last said with a shiver. ¡°Defiler?¡± I asked, mildly surprised. ¡°Please forgive this lowly imp,¡± the creature wailed as if about to be stuck. ¡°I do not know your almightyness¡¯s true name. I have only the name they whisper in the darkest corners of the netherworld,¡± it blabbered. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Why do you know me?¡± I asked, genuinely confused. None of the other demons I had summoned ever seemed to recognize me and right now I looked completely different. ¡°Rumor of your vile power and twisted enjoyments had been circulating for centuries but when a Prince reincorporated bearing a mana scar, matching your powerfulness¡¯ signature, none could deny your existence,¡± Sqwent jabbered on, rubbing his hands and trying desperately to ingratiate himself. ¡°Zorthal was a prince?¡± I wondered aloud, ¡°Seemed a bit weak.¡± Sqwent shivered visibly at my words. ¡°Wait,¡± I said, my questioning half taking over. ¡°I was in a different world, is this world connected to the same demon realm?¡± ¡°Yes, your unholiness,¡± the demon sputtered promptly, ¡°there is one demon realm, it connects to all other worlds, realms, and planes. Save those of a celestial alignment of course.¡± When I didn¡¯t react, taking the time to ponder the implications, Sqwent gasped and added, ¡°Demon king save us.¡± ¡°What was that?¡± I asked, narrowing my eye holes at the little annoyance. ¡°Nothing, your allpowerfulness,'''' the imp squailed, smashing its head back into the dirt. ¡°Answer me Sqwent,¡± I commanded, knowing you had to be extra judicious around demons. It muttered something into the floor, ¡°Answer me clearly and with detail Sqwent.¡± At my words it¡¯s back straightened, with fear marring its features, it answered: ¡°I said, ¡®Demon King save us¡¯,¡± it repeated, unwillingly; seeing my confusion, it was compelled to elaborate. ¡°I said this because we are in the world, Cosmo-Osto,¡± it hissed through clenched teeth. Before I could ask, it went on, ¡°it is said your scariness hails from Cosmo-Vivra, a world that was disconnected from the plane of magic,¡± finally succumbing to my command it added, ¡°there were never supposed to be any mages there, let alone ones of your strength. Now that you can cast spells directly, I fear for all demon kind!¡± it finished, unable to meet my eye. His explanation only raised more questions but the sounds of relief from outside returned my focus to the immediate problem. It would appear that the town''s reinforcements had arrived. I thought of just banishing this demon, its constant flattery was wearing. Now that the two were separated, I could see that the imp was tying Dante¡¯s soul to his body. Even being parted like this was slowly eroding his soul, nothing that couldn¡¯t self repair in a few hours, but I had to hurry nonetheless. Withdrawing my notebook I drafted a contract: wherein Dante would be the controlling party and any powers their union might grant them, would be solely under his control. Sqwent was only too eager to sign, Dante on the other hand was still unconscious. A few slaps to the face remedied that, he awoke bleary and seeming hungover. I had to explain several times to get him to mark the contract with his blood. Then it took even more convincing to get him to accept the red System-prompt. The cabin filled with an ominous light as the imp was sucked back into Dantes skin, leaving it almost imperceptibly, more red. His teeth were also slightly sharpened and his blue eyes seemed purple. After the ordeal was over, Dante gasped and sank back to the ground, passed-out. I was slinking away from town, further into the country, when the heavy storm was momentarily parted at the site of the battle. A beam of holy light illuminated the night sky for miles around and from three miles away I could just about make out a golden figure at its heart. The shock stopped me from holding back the system messages that had built up. Congratulations: Warning: you have 46.3 hours to choose class skills/spells before they will be assigned for you. Status 3.0
Status 3.0
Name: Osseus ?
Titles: Archmagus(ish)... : ¨‹
Archmagus(ish): Unique With the knowledge and experience one hundred times that of a common mage with the power to match one is granted the Title of Archmagus, lacking experience in this worlds magic and with power still to be tested one (and only one) is granted the title Archmagus(ish). This Title grants: | 20 10 Intelligence | 20 10 Willpower | 20 10 Wisdom |
Spell Slinger: Common Able to use the most basic of proficiency, a Spell Slinger may be a novice mage or spell sword. This Title grants: | 2 Intelligence | 1 Willpower |
Savant: Uncommon Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to a promising start. This Title grants: | +10% experience gain in Lich Class |
Detective: Rare Able to solve mysteries and bring ne''er-do-wells to justice. This title was awarded for completing the Quest: Murder at the vicarage. This title grants: | +10 perception I Ability to work on any murder case in the kingdom |
Lord of Far-Reach Fort: Knight [locked] This is a lord title and grants the owner access to the settlement system. If owned this title is automatically selected but takes no title slots. This title grants: | acsess to the settlement system at Knight rank |
You currently have 3 Title slot(s) available
Race: Skeleton: ¨‹
Human Humans are one of the most prolific breeders in all the land. They come in a wide variety of colours and creeds and are able to take nearly any class and profession but have no innate talents for any. They are a short lived species of average height, not able to live more than a century without magical aid. Humans gain: | +10% Xp |
Zombie Zombies are the most common form of undead and can be made from most of the living races. They are known for they¡¯re lacking intelligence and undying strength and tenacity. Zombies gain. | +10 Strength | -10 Intelligence | Ravenous |
Skeleton Skeletons are an advanced form of undead, usually evolved from zombies. They typically have slightly more intelligence and agility and are harder to kill. Skeletons gain: | + 3 agility | -1 strength | Life Sense | Bone Claws | Bone Articulation |
Changing Race is incredibly uncommon and only usually happens as the result of a drastic physical change or magical mishap.
Class: Lich ¨‹
Lich: Rare Lv. 22 The Lich class has three requirements: 1. A Lich must have had a magic based class in life. 2. A Lich must be Undead. 3. A Lich¡¯s soul must have been detached from their body and attached to an item (this item can be the aforementioned body but it can also be changed). if the Lich class is available it is taken automatically. If all class slots are full it will replace your lowest Lv. class. Lich¡¯s use magic as their main form of attack, focusing on the death, poison, or elemental schools.
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ¨‹
No professions are currently available. Demonstrate aptitude in a given field to unlock a profession or apprentice under a Master. Three Profession slots are open.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Skills: SP - 1 ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.9 The undead have a natural hatred for all life, without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher level Undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Leveling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense.
Bone Claws: Lv.7 Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie making their attacks weaker but their bodies are far faster making slashing and piercing weapons an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Leveling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws.
Bone Articulation: Lv.10 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a skeleton''s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Leveling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate.
Identify: Lv.3 User can Identify the level, up to ten levels above themselves. At higher levels one can learn the targets highest leveled class, profession, title, even approximate health and stamina.
Detection: Lv.1 When concentrating user can notice things others might miss. You alsogain an innate sense when things don''t quite add up. At higher levels the missing pieces are easier to spot and may even glow to your vision.
Passive skills:
Magically reinforced bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptised in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands a chance of damaging them. Be warned this does not increases the strength of your bones'' connections.
Water Resistance: Lv.1 Chosen as the Lv.10 Lich class ability. This ability grants a resistance to water based attacks. Additionally movement is less impeded by water/rain. Level is increased by resisting water.
Soul Manipulation: Lv.1 Chosen as the Lv.20 Lich class ability. This ability grants the user the means to see souls and manipulate them in a rudimentary fashion at higher levels a practicer of soul manipulation might rip the soul out of one adversary, bend it to their will, then send it after another. This skill increases with use. Be warned manipulating souls can have irreversible side effects. It is advised not to use this on yourself or friends until it reaches Lv.25.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase skill levels.
Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.10 (max) Folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point one can create a projectile of necrotizing energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Bone Armour: Intermediate Lv.1 Lv.15 Class Spell. This Spell summons bones from the netherworld to serve as armour. The higher one''s level the thicker or stronger the armour is, depending on caster.
Learned Spells:
Wind Breath: Basic Lv.5 Melding ones mana with the air round them allows one to create small gusts of wind. Sutable for moving small objects. The strength and accuracy of the spell is increased with each level.
Shocking Aura: Advanced Lv.3 Pulsing ones mana in and out of their skin rapidly creates an electrical aura. The power and radius of the aura are increased with level.
Illusionary Skin: Expert Lv.1 Pulsing ones mana gently and continuously around one''s skin (or bones) creates an illusionary skin atop the original. The complexity of this spell allows for one to change: skin colour, hair pigmentation, eye colour, and scars/tattoos so long as they are only skin deep. This is a channelling type spell and requires a constant flow of mana to function.
Attributes: AP - 0 ¨‹
Strength: 8 (-1) Strength determines how hard one hits, and how much force one can exert and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 10 (+3) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Charisma and its effects are inverted among the undead.)
Perception: 11 Perception affects reaction speeds and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 (+1) Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 30 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
Chapter 19: Staff or Wand? Chapter 19: Staff or Wand? The next few days of travel were harsh on my old bones. We walked through the underbrush, avoiding the roads. Although I now had a spell that allowed me to disguise myself, this part of the kingdom was quiet enough that any travellers would be worthy of investigation, and I didn¡¯t know how well an illusion might fool a Paladin in the service of a light god, with truth sensing abilities. Dante still wasn¡¯t talking to me. He was holding a grudge, although he now had full control over the demon within, he didn¡¯t approve of being linked to one at all. He had, over the last day, started playing again; composing some sort of lament but he wouldn¡¯t divulge the subject. Given so much time to think, I finally got round to selecting my Class Skills/Spells. It appeared, so far, I gained a class spell every level ending in a five and an ability with every level ending in a zero. I couldn¡¯t say how that might change at higher levels. It was also evident that the attribute points from levelling up were put into perception without my intention. Whether that was because of how I had earned the level, or through a subconscious desire, I knew not, but was determined to find out. Yet another reason I wished to travel to more civilised parts. When choosing my Lv.10 Class ability, the Passive Skill, Water Resistance, I was forced to choose between: Water Resistance, Cold Resistance, and Earth Resistance. Each giving greater defence against their respective schools of magic. Since my bones were nigh indestructible, I chose based on their additional effects. Earth Resistance made traversing hash terrain easier, a tempting prospect. Cold Resistance would decrease the environmental damage from frost and snow, doubly pointless for an undead in what seemed to be the summer. Finally, Water Resistance offered the ability to better move in water or through rain. I chose this because I had no idea how my new body might behave in water. My bones no longer contained blood so the marrow would be full of air, I might just float. Then again bone marrow is like a sponge, if there was any way for water to get in I may end up stuck at the bottom of a lake. Then I had to choose my Lv.20 Class abilities, this choice was much tougher. The two I hadn¡¯t selected were still available but now they were joined by three new options. Soul Manipulation, Paralysing Touch, and Undead Fear. The last was out, as I had no ambition to go around scaring the daylights out of people, I¡¯d rather remain undetected. Paralysing Touch, did as the name implied, only really useful in combat or if one has an unwilling test subject. Soul Manipulation was interesting. I knew a spell to paralyse and had used it often but to see someone''s soul, that touched on necromancy and all records of such spells had been destroyed, or at least I had never found them. It would be most useful in my research. If one¡¯s mana was a ship, the soul was the captain. I could see the ship, understand its course and heading but I couldn¡¯t see the captain. I knew he was there and could infer what he wanted from the direction of the ship. But if I could ask him directly¡­ I would understand so much more. The manipulation part I found less appealing, perhaps it was supposed to be used to create undead which were not mindless but I had no intention to do that. Next was the class spell, being a mage class apparently entitled me to spells without the training or practice. I had been granted Necrotizing Bolt as a Lv.1 Lich and had earned a new spell at level 15. Perhaps that first spell had covered Lv.5 and I would receive another at Lv.25 or I obtained one every 14 or 15 levels, depending whether you counted Lv.1. I was again presented with three options, Freezing Mists, Poisonous Breath, and Bone Armour. The first two were boring spells any mage might cast but the last interested me. It summoned bones from the netherworld and fashioned them into armour. I wanted to see how this world''s magic might form such a portal. In my home world, any form of dimensional manipulation would be mana intensive because it would have to punch a hole through reality. That said, the mana difference between a portal the size of a man, and one the size of a pinhole, was negligible. Breaching the plane was the costly part. I selected Bone Armour without much more thought. Like a child at Fastening, I rushed through the mana patterns I had acquired with the spell, giddy with excitement. Dante shot me looks, then jumped back in surprise when the magic activated. Instead of slicing the vale, as I expected, my mana interacted with the magical plane - superimposed upon this world - they intermingled, before sliding out of reality. Moments later, my mana shot back out through the black, inky puddle that had surrounded me. In its clutches were a plethora of different sized bones, from a variety of creatures; rotten flesh still attached, that rose to form a chestplate around my centre. It took two hours of constant washing in a stream to remove the prevailing smell from my robes. The whole time Dante kept his distance. Despite the grotesque outcome I was excited, I had learned something. What it was I couldn¡¯t yet tell, I would have to let my thoughts sit in the back of my mind; until they formed a new hypothesis about interdimensional travel. In its intended structure the spell consumed 2% of my total mana, not an inconsiderable amount, in my younger days that may have been the greater part of my pool. I experimented with different spell variables as we travelled. The first thing I managed to do was change the spell''s target so I could summon the armour about a tree, instead of myself. The nights sped by as I tested. In what felt like no time to me, I was able to alter the spell. Putting more mana into the working would increase the coverage of the armour. First, there would be a helmet, then greaves, and finally a full suit. This included gauntlets, which used tiny finger bones to cover the joints. Despite how they appeared, the strength of the armour seemed to maintain uniformity and increased proportionally to mana usage. Changing the pattern of the spell, and imbuing it with intent, I was eventually able to summon bones which were completely clean, although the process took longer. Perhaps the spell had to find bones which matched my directions? Using a similar method, but with thinner strands of mana, I was able to change the type of armour summoned. This knowledge was gifted to me by the System. The three options the spell came with were: a heavy set of bone plate, a medium set with chest plate and helm, and a lighter set that seemed to use some kind of fish scale as a durable chain mail. With some finagling I was able to mix and match as required, even able to just summon a fishmail hauberk. In my final test, using half of my mana and aiming for the heaviest version, something amazing happened. A flawless set of white armour, with black runes that matched my own, arose menacingly from the inky portal. It was a scrimshaw''s masterpiece, intricate engravings covering the borders and plates, thin but strong, they slid frictionless against one another. But best of all, what made this set both light and incredibly tough, was that each bone came from a different magical beast. These were perfect ingredients for any number of spells, with the added side effect of spell resistance. With avarice, I clawed at the set. Unfortunately, whenever I did remove a piece it would slip back into that black void, disappearing from my hands. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. As it turned out, there were some limits to this type of summoning which I couldn¡¯t bypass. None of the materials could remain for more than an hour in our plane and once separated from the man which maintained the spell they would immediately return. Unfortunately the mana that held them here also prevented me from using the bones to cast spells. Dejected, I slumped to the ground with a sigh. As if to cheer me up the System chimed in. Congratulations: At least that was something. As I had been casting I was observing the movements of my own soul, unfortunately I didn¡¯t learn much as I already had an innate sense for what it was doing. Observing Dante¡¯s connection to that demon was interesting, but only for so long. Not being a mage, the only change I noted was an apparent altering of colour that came with mood. He still appeared red when looking at me. Wind Breath and Shocking Aura were last on my list of spells to experiment with as they were boring elemental spells. Having exhausted the possibilities with the summoning spell, I turned my attention to Illusionary Skin. This was incredibly useful, although far tricker than any of the other spells. It required me to maintain a shell about myself which shielded me from light and projected out an image of a living humanoid that matched my bone shape, in my case a human. The problem was: it required me to constantly move mana through a pattern whilst moving, walking, talking, and casting other spells. It was hard, even for me. Although I had practised mana manipulation in life, I had only done so on its own. I leapt at the challenge, at first the illusion would drop whenever my mind wandered, which in the silence of travel was far too often. But after only three days I was able to maintain it while casting two Wind Breaths simultaneously. It wasn''t quite second nature but it was getting there. I had chosen the appearance of an older man, still straight of back, with white hair, bushy eyebrows, a long beard and sparkling blue eyes that gave off a grandfatherly air. It was my long dead master''s visage. I did this for two reasons: first, it matched my monk''s robe, and second, it was incredibly difficult to remember one''s own features well enough to replicate, at least for me. Seeing his image again brought back a bitter warmth that was both suffocating and yet I couldn¡¯t get enough of it. Finally, we ran out of shrubberies in which to skulk. The final copse of trees, before the land turned flat, surrounded a long abandoned manor house. As night once again relented to daybreak, we took shelter. Dante and I had returned to brief and stilted conversation; I could see the anger in his soul melting. Frankly, I was surprised that he had stuck with me. The nearest road seemed bustling and, from a signpost I had sneaked a look at, we were only a few miles from our first proper city. ? A sound startled us from the unrest which made up our days. ¡°What was that?¡± asked Dante, tense. ¡°I smell humans, two of them,¡± he answered himself. He seemed annoyed at the possession of his mouth, but such open questions might be considered implicit consent. ¡°I¡¯ll check it out,¡± I said, as we heard the door to the manor open in the basement hideout. ¡°My spell should protect me from the sunlight.¡± Although I hadn¡¯t yet tested it, it should work. The enchantment had worked when I infiltrated Market Basing, but that connected me to a member of the living - immune to the woes of sunlight. I took silent steps up the stone steps, each step stepped on in step with the footsteps above. Reaching the wooden door, I pushed it open gently. Holes in the walls flooded me with sunlight. I clamped my mandible shut, closing my figurative eyes. Nothing happened. I let out a silent breath of relief. Dodging rubble and pressing against walls, I navigated the maze of ruined rooms towards the voices. ¡°A wand is far better than any staff,¡± a boy bragged boisterously. ¡°Like hell it is!¡± another retorted, ¡°you can¡¯t nearly get the power from a wand that you can a staff.¡± ¡°So what? All that power means nothing, without finesse even a zombie would see your spells coming a mile away,¡± the first jibed. There was a moment of quiet, then a thud. ¡°Oww. That hurt,¡± the first complained. ¡°Didn¡¯t see that coming, did you,¡± the second replied smugly. Poking my head around a crumbling corner, I saw the two lads - dressed in nondescript blue robes. They were between fourteen and fifteen. One was rubbing his head whilst the other was laughing. Having seen my fair share of apprentices, I decided to interject before this got out of hand. Learning from past mistakes, I limited the amount of mana visible in my core to that of myself, when I was a court magus. ¡°That¡¯s quite enough of that,¡± I declared in the tone my master had used when the other apprentices would pick on me. The one who was looking the other way jumped at my sudden rebuke but the other zipped his laughter, knowing he was in trouble. ¡°Sorry¡­Sir?¡± the Staff wielding child asked, uncertain. Falling into the character, I chided the boys, ¡°Backs straight, heads up. Is that anyway for a young magi to stand.¡± The two looked confused for some reason. ¡°What''s a magi?¡± the boy holding the Wand asked. ¡°Oh,¡±I thought to myself, ¡°how did they not know, it was the common word for any magic user¡­ wait how are we speaking the same language? Are we speaking the same language or is this an effect of the System? I could understand its messages but I¡¯d never been to this world before,¡± I was roused from my introspection by a whisper as quiet as boom powder. ¡°It must be some kind of Monk Class,¡± the staff supporter told the wand wielder, somehow thinking his hand in any way dampened the hissing. The pair looked me up and down sceptically before whispering as if I wasn¡¯t there. ¡°I thought they might have sent a professor to spy on us, this our first assignment,¡± Wand explained to Staff. ¡°Not a chance, look at him,¡± Staff replied. ¡°But he¡¯s got plenty of mana,¡± Wand insisted. ¡°So what?¡± the other asked. ¡°Aren''t apostles supposed to channel their deities mana?¡± Wand questioned. The other thought for a moment. ¡°Maybe he worships a magic god?¡± Staff finally responded. ¡°With a death affinity?¡± Wand asked. ¡°Maybe he stole the robes,¡± Staff supposed. Having decided that it was likely an effect of the System, translating for me. I decided to stop their musings before they went too far. ¡°Ht Humm,¡± I coughed, regaining the two boys'' attention, now with a slight apprehensive fear behind their eyes. Chapter 20: Woden’s School Chapter 20: Woden¡¯s School ¡°If you must know, I am undercover,¡± I lied smoothly, much as my master would have. This seemed to put the two apprentices at ease. ¡°Why did you show yourself then?¡± the braver of the two, Staff, asked. ¡°I no longer believe you are capable of conducting this task unaccompanied,¡± I responded. ¡°What, just for that,¡± Staff said, pointing at Wand¡¯s head. Wand seemed distressed, trying to get the other boy to shut up. Playing on Wand¡¯s reaction I replied simply: ¡°No.¡± Giving them the I know what you did look that my master had been so fond of. It took me years to realise he did not, in fact, know that I was the one who had placed frogs in his boots. Lacking my experience the pair looked down, ashamed, clearly they had done something wrong. ¡°From this point on, I will follow you and observe,¡± I proclaimed. My curiosity had gotten me into this situation, I felt I should break up their fight. ¡°Yes Sir,¡± they both replied, dejected. ¡°Do you think we will get detention for that?¡± Staff failed again to whisper to Wand. ¡°Zip it,¡± Wand hissed back, stamping on the other boy¡¯s foot and looking between him and me as I simply raised an eyebrow. ¡°Continue,¡± I said, stepping aside, gesturing further into the house. My face remained neutral as my mind whirred. Why are they here? I thought. They were definitely apprentice mages, judging by their mana level. They also seemed to be associated with a school since they assumed I was a professor, a magic school? I wondered as I followed the boy¡¯s through the crumbling mansion, they looked left and right with their sticks at the ready. On the back of their blue robes was embroidered a crest. The college of arms was named Woden¡¯s school for the Magical Arts, the wording circled the image, at the bottom it said Manticore. The orle was invected and argent, the field was azure with an argent pail atop which stood a manticore rampant. ¡°Manticore,¡± I murmured. ¡°Please don¡¯t take any points from Manticore house,¡± Wand Pleaded. ¡°Hmm,¡± was all I said in response as they continued their sweep of the manor. Life Sense and Soul Manipulation combined, showed me there was nothing but rodents on the property so I returned to thought. A school for Magic huh? Sounded like just the place I wanted to visit. In my old world there had been records of great institutions which gave basic education on the arts to entire empires but they had all collapsed in the undead wars. In my time, no school for magic ever survived long. Too many magi wished to guard their knowledge and other figures of influence saw a school that taught magic as a political threat. I wonder if they¡¯d accept someone of my age, it¡¯s never too late to learn. I was finally able to see the use of the sticks when a rat scurried into the corridor and Staff channelled an earth spell into his staff and a rock the size of a fist hurled out into the space the rat had been twenty seconds earlier. Wand huffed, seeing this as an opportunity to demonstrate his wands superiority. Quick as a flash, a blade of wind sliced through the air, following the arc of the short stick he held. The fat rat was left with nothing more than ruffled fur as it escaped beneath the floorboards, through the hole Staff had made. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Ahh, so that''s what the sticks are for, I thought. I should¡¯ve realised it really, atop Staff¡¯s staff was a brown gem filled with earth mana. In Wand¡¯s wand was a feather of some wind-magic bird. The children seemed downcast, so I thought I might as well take this opportunity to teach them something. ¡°You,¡± I said pointing at Staff, who perked up, ¡°you are overcharging your spell, that¡¯s why it takes too long to cast. Your staff amplifies the spell''s effects, it may be slower than a wand but not by much. And you,¡± I said turning to the other boy, ¡°you can channel your mana very quickly, which is good, but you don¡¯t follow the pattern precisely enough.¡± ¡°You mean the spell shape?¡± Wand asked, confused. ¡°Sure, whatever you call it,¡± I replied, adding ¡°just watch how I do it.¡± Slowly, for the kids'' benefit, I replicated the Spell Shape that Wand had used, squaring the corners so to speak. Raising my hand a blade of air shot out, making a snicking sound as it scored a line an inch deep on a ceiling beam. Wand only stared between me and the impact site. I turned back to Staff. ¡°And you, you have your spell shaping down pat, but you should cast faster,¡± I said. Pointing at the ceiling, I copied Staff''s spell and a pebble came out almost as fast as the wind blade. It hit the same beam, there was an ominous sound from the second floor. Dust fell and I winced before the house once again settled. Congratulations: ¡°Perhaps that was a bad example,¡± I said, sheepishly. ¡°How did you do that?¡± Wand asked, stunned. I looked at him, uncomprehending. ¡°I thought you said he had a death affinity?¡± Staff asked, his mouth still stuck open. Then it hit me. In this world, as in my old, people are born with an assigned mana affinity. At home, that meant they could only cast spells with ingredients that aligned with that mana type. From the shocked look on these two¡¯s faces, I presumed it limited the type of spells one could cast here as well. It was a stupid mistake really, my pure mana production was something unique in my old world. It made any spell I cast relatively weaker, as I had to convert to that mana type, but I could use any spell ingredient, it¡¯s part of why I became a researcher. ¡°Err¡­¡± I said eloquently, while my brain whirred, looking for an answer. Click. ¡°That''s a secret,¡± I replied, with my best knowing smile. Drawing again from my master¡¯s playbook. When the jawus hangius was cured, I was peppered with questions. Once it became clear that I wouldn¡¯t elaborate, the object of their interrogation turned to the spell techniques. On that topic, I was happy to share all the tricks of mana manipulation I had learned, stressing the need to practise slowly. Many rats were slain as they took on my advice, continuing to search for whatever it was they were after. They didn¡¯t find it on the first or second floor, or, indeed, in the attic. Finally, attention was turned to the basement. ¡°I think we ought to be cautious here, I should go down and check it out,¡± I told the lads. ¡°You think there really is a ghost down there?¡± Wand asked, hiding his fear. ¡°Maybe,¡± I replied, hiding my own relief. With great reluctance they accepted, but insisted on keeping guard with wand and staff. It seemed I had garnered some level of respect from my previous display. Plunging into the darkness I made sure to appear brave. Once I was in the cellar, I navigated back around the piles of old furniture, paintings, and empty wine racks. When I came to the lightless alcove in which I expected to find Dante, waiting impatiently, I instead found the ghost of a rather portly nobleman. With a great sigh, I asked, ¡°Where''s Dante?¡± The rat-faced man sneered before answering, ¡°if you wish to see your friend again you must answer my riddles three.¡± He twirled his thin moustache. I missed whatever happened down here. My Life Sense would never have picked either of them up but Soul Manipulation would have, if I¡¯d only thought to look down. ¡°Nope,¡± I said, shortly. ¡°Y-what?¡± the pudgy rat-man wailed, shocked. ¡°Get down here you two and you might learn something,¡± I yelled back up to the kids. After all the effort I had gone to save Dante, I wasn¡¯t gonna let some minor undead take him away. Chapter 21: Ghost Bursting Chapter 21: Ghost Bursting When the two boys finally made it through the dark maze, and caught sight of the glowing spirit. Wand was the first to react, firing off a Wind Blade, with much more power than before, it slid through the apparition with barely any effect, before slicing a dust sheet and the portrait beneath. When he caught my eye he seemed rather sheepish. ¡°You can¡¯t hurt me, the great and powerful¨C¡± the noble began but I cut him off. ¡°Great job, a bit jumpy, but you shaped the spell much more precisely that time,¡± I congratulated, some of the tension leaving at my words. ¡°How DARE YOU¨C¡± whinged the ghost. Again, he was interrupted, this time by a clap round the ear, courtesy of Soul Manipulation. I then proceeded to hoist the figure by the scruff of his neck, my other hand holding back whatever drivel it tried to spew. Although my Strength was low, it was insurmountable to an immaterial person, especially when backed by the skill. The boys approached, Staff looked like he wanted to ask how I was holding a ghost but he refrained. The glowing blue stone Staff carried, lit up the room around us. When the two boys stopped in front of me expectantly, I began the lesson. ¡°What is this?¡± I asked, shaking the subject. The two looked at one another before talking. ¡°A Ghost?¡± Staff asked, unsure of himself. ¡°Yes, indeed!¡± I encouraged. ¡°What can you tell me about ghosts?¡± ¡°We were sent here to find one and get rid of it?¡± Wand asked when Staff didn¡¯t answer. ¡°Did you not research them before embarking on this mission?¡± I questioned. The pair exchanged guilty looks. I let the silence stretch, only broken by the ghosts'' muffled invectives. ¡°They¡¯re undead?¡± Wand finally said in a questioning tone. ¡°Very good,¡± I responded, ¡°they are categorised as undead, but since they have less of a connection to life than, say, zombies, some argue they should be seen as more dead. Then again their souls are far more intact so the opposite assumption would be also fair.¡± I caught myself waffling so I stopped. ¡°Anything else?¡± Emboldened by Wand¡¯s answer, Staff spoke, ¡°they can be dispersed with enough mana.¡± ¡°Yes, this is true, however that may be too much for you two. I¡¯m sure you weren¡¯t sent out here without anything to banish it?¡± I proposed. ¡°Can¡¯t you get rid of ghosts by fulfilling their final wish?¡± Staff asked in response. ¡°Yes, excellent. There is only one problem; what if, for whatever reason, you cannot or will not grant them their desire?¡± I supposed. A firefly lit up in Wands eyes as he withdrew a vial from his robe. ¡°Holy water!¡± he proclaimed. The nobleman''s eyes widened at the sight and his protestations doubled. ¡°Not so fast,¡± I said hastily, taking an involuntary step back. ¡°There was one more thing that you failed to mention.¡± I only received confused looks, ¡°the difference between a ghost and a poltergeist?¡± I urged. ¡°Ohh, a poltergeist can interact with the physical world and a ghost can''t,¡± Staff blurted out. ¡°So is that a poltergeist?¡± Wand asked, realisation dawning. ¡°No.¡± I said with a wink. ¡°Then how are you¡­¡± Staff began. ¡°When I discovered this thing,¡± I cut in, shaking the party in question, ¡°he told me he had kidnapped someone, how might this be possible.¡± Staff looked frustrated but didn¡¯t continue. ¡°If he really isn¡¯t a poltergeist,¡± Wand said, looking at me sceptically, ¡°he¡¯s lying.¡± ¡°A fair assessment,¡± I granted, ¡°but in this case he is not, how might he have abducted someone.¡± ¡°Err..¡± Staff said, wanting to get back into the discussion. ¡°He tricked them?¡± ¡°Excellent, points to Manticore,¡± I declared, mirroring their earlier reference. Apparently it was a bigger deal than I had surmised as they both subtly, but visibly, celebrated. ¡°Htt hmm,¡± I interjected, calming the pair. Just then the nobleman slipped my grasp. ¡°I said I would tell you where he is if only you solved my riddles,¡± the fatso blubbered. I plucked him once more from the air and restrained him. ¡°Why don¡¯t you listen to him?¡± Staff asked, confused. ¡°A good question, thank you. Do either of you know why I won¡¯t let him speak?¡± I asked. Silence. ¡°Ahh,¡± I sighed, ¡°although this rat might look harmless, and indeed he can¡¯t harm you directly, he is smart enough to have tricked one person already. His greatest weapon is his words. What is a magi¡­ I mean Wizard¡¯s greatest weapon.¡± ¡°His magic?¡± Wand proposed. ¡°His mana,¡± Staff said at almost the same time. ¡°Wrong on both counts. It is his mind,¡± I revealed, pointing to my skull. ¡°Now, assuming this ghost has managed to capture someone, where might that be?¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°It would have to be somewhere in this house, probably somewhere in this basement since we were up stairs.¡± Staff responded. ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± I pushed. ¡°Because there were only sightings of ghosts at this old manor,¡± Staff said, unsure. ¡°And usually ghosts are bound to the place they died,¡± Wand added. ¡°Correct, although there are exceptions,¡± I answered. ¡°But, I don¡¯t see anyone else here?¡± Staff said, shining his light about the cellar. ¡°Look carefully,¡± I said, indicating an empty bookshelf up against one wall. Truth be told I was cheating, doubly. My Detection skill made me look in the right direction and my Life Sense told me there was a tunnel behind it, but Dante was still out of the range of Soul Manipulation. It took the boys a good few minutes to uncover the scuffs marks on the floor and the hollow back that indicated a hidden passage. ¡°But how do we open it?¡± Wand asked, looking for a mechanism. ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± I said, gesturing for the pair to step back. ¡°I think it highly likely that there may be traps.¡± Looking at the bookcase with concern, they stepped away. I readied a spell. A bubble of necrotising energy the size of a person wobbled across the intervening space, when it splashed against the bookshelf the wood began to rapidly rot. Chunks flaked off as the spell remained in place, within only thirty seconds, all that remained was a pile of dusty old scrap-wood, revealing a passageway beyond. It was cramped, filled with cobwebs and covered in dust. ¡°Bloody Nora¡± Staff gaped. ¡°Bet you that was a high level Expert Spell,¡± Wand whispered, elbowing Staff. ¡°That was a Basic spell,¡± I rebutted, not really understanding the distinction. ¡°Impossible!¡± Staff protested, ¡°Basic Spells only have basic, small scale, effects. Everyone knows that. You just melted a whole book case.¡± ¡°I just altered the spell shape slightly, changed the consistency of my mana at certain points, varied the speed at others, and added more mana to the whole thing,¡± I replied, cocking my head. ¡°But Basic spells only go up to level 10, the System wouldn¡¯t tell you to do stuff like that until a spell reached at least level 30, 40 maybe,¡± Wand replied, uncomprehending. I looked at the pair, baffled. ¡°Why would I need to follow the System''s directions when casting?¡± I asked, genuinely confused. ¡°Our teacher says that we should only follow the pattern the System has laid out,¡± Staff said. ¡°Otherwise we might lose control of the spell, then ¡®who knows what might happen¡¯,¡± Wand added, clearly imitating someone. ¡°Nonsense,¡± I said, waving away the notion, ¡°every good experiment has its risks, usually explosive. But I haven''t blown anything up in nearly a month,¡± I said truthfully. ¡°Unless you count that lightning spell¡­ No, the fort¡¯s still standing.¡± I didn''t miss the look the pair shared as I led the way into the hidden tunnel. The passage ringed the outside of the cellar before descending. Whilst walking down the steps, I heard a Cachuck and the stairs flipped into a slide; sending us hurtling down into darkness. The ghost took the opportunity and fled into the walls laughing wickedly as it did. Clack, Thump, fwack. When we had untangled ourselves and run out of groans and complaints; Staff walked over, collecting the fallen glowstone. ¡°You¡¯re a very bony old man,¡± Wand said, rubbing his head where it had been struck again by a staff. I only chuckled darkly in response as I surveyed our surroundings. Foof a stone door slid down, sealing us in an underground chamber, maybe ten by ten feet. Skeletons littered the floor, these did not possess the spark of undeath. Evening light came in through slits about fifty feet above, other stone doors lined the walls at various heights, indicating a number of means of ingress. In one corner, cradling something, was a sobbing Dante. Wand noticed him and, grabbing Staff''s arm, approached. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Wand asked, clearly concerned. Through tears Dante spoke, ¡°look at her,¡± he wept, holding up his lute to show its shattered condition. ¡°I¡¯m sure you could fix¡­¡± Wand began to but stopped at a shake of my head. ¡°You can always get a new one,¡± he tried instead. Dante cried harder at this. ¡°She is special, there will never be another,¡± Dante sobbed. ¡°Why?¡± Staff asked gently, placing a consoling hand on the man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I Don¡¯t know,¡± he cried, desperation in his voice. The ghost chose the worst time to reappear. Twenty feet overhead, well out of reach, he stuck his head out of the wall. ¡°You fool,¡± it began in a mocking tone. A full powered Necrotising Bolt whistled through him boring a finger sized hole into the stone behind. The spell did no real damage but the amount of mana it contained effectively paralysed the undead. It dropped like a leaf to the ground. I bent down, popping its soul in my hand like a bubble, leaving my phalanges covered in a pale blue goo. The boys no longer seemed surprised by my actions and continued to comfort the distraught Bard. I had intended to keep the rat-faced man for testing but it would appear he was too much of a handful. Not willing to waste a potential spell component, I scraped up the ectoplasm, slapping it into jars that surprisingly hadn''t broken in the fall. ¡°Might I borrow this?¡± I asked Wand, softly. ¡°Sure,¡± he replied, handing over his wand, looking at me inquisitively. The boy''s attention was diverted as I began my working. I used the Wind Blade Spellshape but instead of an arc, I drew a spiral with the wand. Pointing up I began in the centre and descended as I went out. The ensuing Wind Blade shot up, drilling through the ceiling grate. Congratulations: ¡°Here,¡± I said, handing back the wand to Wand, as debris fell around us. Looking up, I calculated: 1.45 maybe 1.5 times the strength of a spell without. It no doubt had a cap on strength, but I needed to get myself one of those casting tools, preferably many. Unwilling to show my ignorance to my students I chose not to ask where they got them. ¡°It will take me a while to create a path out,¡± I said, using Necrotising Bolt to disintegrate hand holds in the rock. Staff only nodded in response. There were faster methods but Dante still needed time, not just for the sun to set. It may have only been a lute but I could see Dantes soul and it was truly hurting. I had known grief, that lute clearly had some connection to his past life, yet he still could not remember. It was night by the time we all clambered from the pit. Dante had gone almost catatonic, his eyes vacant as he followed us. The boys offered to host us in their camp but I lied, and told them I ought to see if Dante had any family in the nearby city. They agreed and we parted ways, promising to find my office at Woden¡¯s for another lesson. That did make me feel rather bad and as soon as we were out of sight I changed the face of my illusion. I took on the appearance of The Archmagus of The Black Tower. A man who appeared taller than he was, slender and stiff; short, black hair and a goatee. His stern demeanour seemed to best fit my mood as I tried to maintain a comforting silence with Dante. Before long, we came to the road on which we spent the rest of the night, travelling to our first city. Chapter 22: A City Named Wiccawich Chapter 22: A City Named Wiccawich ¡°I see her face, when I look upon my lute. She¡¯s pale and gaunt. I need to see her.¡± Dante mumbled. I tried to get him to elaborate, but he refused to speak more, although unlife did return to his eyes. After this odd statement he seemed to be conversing with his inner demon; still not with me. I was not totally comfortable with the arrangement although I thought it best to let sleeping dragons lie. The road, even at night, was busy. We were passed by wagons every half hour or so. Many of which seemed to possess items of at least some magical interest, no doubt owing to Woden¡¯s. I regretted leaving those students under false pretences. I had taken on a number of apprentices, but none had ever graduated. Looking back I had used them as little more than assistants for my experiments, never teaching them, never believing I had time. Always on to the next test. I couldn¡¯t blame them for leaving. Taking on my masters form and mannerisms had reminded me, not only of the struggles of apprenticeship, but of how I had enjoyed those years. I had done my own students a disservice and, despite myself, I missed the old man. Perhaps Dantes grief was infectious, I thought, wiping away an illusionary tear. Congratulations: We passed through a number of villages and hamlets along the road. There were signs of people everywhere. The farms grew closer and smaller until either side of the road was blocked by tall houses. They seemed twisted and hunched, clearly with poor design and ill intent. Eventually, we came to a bridge, spanning a gentle river which glowed blue when disturbed. On the other side we were greeted by the largest barbican I¡¯d ever seen. The open portcullis was flanked by two circular towers adorned with a number of rather grotesque sculptures. Faces pointed outward in all directions, sneering and leering. On the lowest levels; goblins and orcs, going up through dwarves, elves, and humans until, finally above them all was a rather wizened old man with an arrow through his eye - his pointed hat, the blue tiled roof. The other side was much the same, except a woman''s visage sat atop the pile, clearly in pain. As we drew closer I could see that each and every face had some form of wizardly marking; a pointed hat, arcane runes, or in one case a wand clenched in a dwarf¡¯s jaw. The fortification wasn¡¯t attached to a city wall, and, there didn¡¯t appear to be such a thing, if not for defence then it must be decorative, or at least there to send a message. I didn¡¯t have to wonder for long as we were approached by a man in a dark red jack and skull cap. His manner was lackadaisical as he whistled to us to stop before swaggering over. He looked at Dante muttering to himself, before turning to me. ¡°Either yous magical types?¡± he slurred, squinting us up and down. He stopped when he saw my monk''s robes and sobered slightly. ¡°I am a wizard, not a monk,¡± I clarified, before he could assume. I didn¡¯t want to get in trouble with any churches. The man grinned at my words, hiccuping before speaking: ¡°There be a Wizard¡¯s tax fur enterin¡¯ Wiccawich,¡± giving me a conspiratorial glance he added, ¡°I recon there ought be a¡­n¡­ not a monk tax an all.¡± I sighed, but reached into my knapsack. All that remained was a couple gold coins I had looted from what was now legally my fort and a handful of silver. I took out the bag of silver, it should be more than enough for a bribe. As soon the pouch was visible it disappeared. The guard was opening and checking its contents. ¡°That er do,¡± he said, before staggering back to his post. I was left flabbergasted. I simply stood there a moment, mouth agape. When the guardsman waved me through I huffed, raised my hands in exasperation and entered Wiccawich. When we were safely within the city, Dante pulled me aside. ¡°I need to do something in this city,¡± he stated with resolve. ¡°I¡¯ll meet you in three nights at that gate.¡± ¡°Okay. Are you sure you want to do whatever it is alone?¡± I asked, trying to support the man. ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± he replied firmly but not unkindly. Then his features softened into a smile,¡±but thanks for offering.¡± ¡°See you in three days then,¡± I said, somewhat surprised. Dante proceeded to leave via an ally, at a jog, I was slightly concerned what that demon was having him do, but I trusted him enough to deal with it alone. Walking down the main thoroughfare at night was an interesting experience. Despite the monument at the gate, this city seemed rather welcoming. Night-time revellers were out and about in full, music could be heard from a number of taverns. Some even carried the dancing out into the street. ¡°Perhaps it was some kind of holiday?¡± I wondered, as yet another drunken man spilled out in front of me. Bending down, to help the man up, I spotted a single copper coin so I helped myself. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Choosing a drinkery which seemed less rowdy than the others I entered. I still had to skirt my way round a full room as everyone listened to a rather sad tune played by a trio of pipers. When I finally pushed my way through to the bar, my boney frame aiding the endeavour, it took a further ten minutes before a bedraggled looking barmaid came to me. ¡°What¡¯ll you be havin¡¯, ale¡¯s copper a pint,¡± she said, tiredly. ¡°Actually, I just wanted to ask a few questions,¡± I said, innocently. She looked at me, nodded at the packed bar then flopped her head back at me, clearly annoyed. ¡°You¡¯ll have an ale,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll have an ale,¡± I agreed. I found myself outback of the establishment in a nice garden where folks seemed to go for a break or to fondle one another. Mostly the latter. I stared at the wooden tankard in my hand, not quite knowing what to do with it. Scanning the walled garden, I found a gruff looking older man, sitting alone, who eyed his empty tankard as if it owed him money. Sliding the mug in front of him I offered, ¡°ale?¡± The man gulped half of it down greedily before looking up. ¡°Thanks,¡± he said with a gasp, he paused when he saw the robes. ¡°Not here to chastise me for my sins are you?¡± he asked, surprisingly jovial. ¡°I¡¯m not a monk,¡± I replied, wishing I¡¯d picked another deadman''s clothes. ¡°Guess we all have sins,¡± he responded with a smile, slapping me through the shoulder and inviting me to sit. Thankfully his inebriation didn¡¯t have him think long on the oddity. ¡°So what can I do you for?¡± the grey fox asked as I took a seat opposite him. ¡°I¡¯m new to the city and in need of coin,¡± I started. ¡°Who ain¡¯t,¡± the stranger butted in, after taking another large gulp. ¡°I¡¯m also interested in Woden¡¯s School for the Magical arts,¡± I finished. ¡°You''re a bit old to be going there,¡± he said with a laugh. I signed internally at the remark, it appeared they weren¡¯t likely to take on aged students, although¡­ ¡°Magical type are you?¡± he added. ¡°I am?¡± I replied, hesitantly. He shook his head before continuing, ¡°if you¡¯re new to the city I guess you don¡¯t have a licence?¡± ¡°A licence?¡± I asked, eyeing the well-appointed man who just entered the garden, flanked by two guards. ¡°Aye,¡± his eyes tracked the newcomer wearily. ¡°If you want to practise magic for money in this city.¡± ¡°How do I get a licence?¡± I asked, watching the guarded man as he approached a couple, broke them apart, and proceeded to berate them until he received payment. ¡°What licence?¡± the older man asked. ¡°What?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°What kinda magic do you do?¡± he followed up. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t follow.¡± ¡°Different guilds give different magical licences, for example: the enchanting guild can issue a licence to make and sell enchanted wares¡­ so long as they are not weapons, that would also require a writ from the weaponsmith guild. They don¡¯t like it if a mage comes along and sells their sword for five times the price, just by adding some fancy magic. There¡¯s also the magical builders society, they''re not a guild but they still hold the right to issue licences, and are responsible for any injury due to shoddy magical building. And the Icers¡¯ guild but I think you get the picture,¡± he waxed. ¡°I can do whatever pays best, I need money to fund my research,¡± I explained, hoping for advice. After the third couple that had been wrenched apart, people were starting to get the idea and separated prematurely. ¡°If you are willing to do anything, then I think I have something in mind,¡± he replied with a lascivious wink. At my look of disgust, he chuckled, ¡°Not that, you¡¯re too boney anyhow. The best pay in the city, in any city, would have to come from the Adventurers Guild.¡± ¡°Adventurers?¡± I asked, unfamiliar with the term. ¡°You know, the people that go out and have adventures,¡± he tried. ¡°How does that make good money?¡± I followed up, confused. ¡°You know; if a king has a long lost family heirloom, or a demon has been sighted, or there¡¯s simply too much ratechin in the sewers, the Adventures Guild is called upon,¡± he explained. ¡°So they¡¯re mercenaries?¡± I asked. He waved his hand in a so-so gesture, ¡°yes and no. They ain''t usually hired for direct confrontations. The more famous ones have something a bit different about them, they¡¯re not just fighters. For example, there was a very famous architect who fought with a whip who would only take contracts to find relics of one sort or another.¡± ¡°He sounds interesting,¡± I allowed. ¡°He was,¡± he confirmed, ¡°Unfortunately his legacy was tarnished somewhat by his son¨C-¡± He cut off as the opulent man approached our table. Bumping my knee under the table, he whispered, ¡°look alive.¡± Which to his surprise elicited an involuntary chuckle. ¡°Your worship,¡± the drinker said, with a nod of respect. Now that the rather haughty man had drawn near, I could see that he did, indeed, wear vestments similar to Vicar Inclement¡¯s - if they had been dipped in gold and worked to within an inch of their lives. He ignored my companion and addressed me directly. ¡°Brother in light, I welcome you to our city,¡± he said, bowing deeply in respect. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯m not a monk,¡± I explained. An icy silence swallowed up what little chatter remained in the garden. ¡°You are impersonating a member of the clergy?¡± he asked, raising a delicately manicured eyebrow. ¡°Well I never actually claimed to be a monk,¡± I tried. ¡°I bowed¡­ to a commoner!¡± he said in a low voice, as it hit him. For a moment he looked as though he would attack me right there, or vomit perhaps, but a quick look around at the onlookers culled his anger and stilled his stomach. My drinking buddy wisely remained silent. ¡°I¡¯m not actually¡­¡± I started but was cut off. ¡°I hope, for your sake you have something on you that can mend my honour,¡± he said, indicating his two enforcers to search me. As I still wanted to conduct business in this city, I allowed it. The only thing they seemed to find of interest was my two gold coins. ¡°Barely adequate,¡± the priest declared, upon receiving his extortion payment. He was just about to turn and leave when an idea clearly stuck him. ¡°We simply can¡¯t have an affront like this happen again; don¡¯t you agree?¡± he began but didn¡¯t wait for an answer. ¡°Strip!¡± he ordered. Chapter 23: Adventurer Chapter 23: Adventurer There were a number of particularly nasty death magic spells I knew, that would only use a little of my ectoplasm. I could cut the priest in half with a Wind Blade or crush him with a Rock Throw. I could release my illusion, and take the man by surprise with my Bone Claws. I could, but should I? I may be an undead Lich but that didn¡¯t mean I was evil. I had fought more in the past few nights than I had in centuries back home, and it was beyond time I learned to tolerate civilised living again; despite how uncivilised this society appeared to be. Standing, stark naked, as couples giggled and the priest smirked in satisfaction didn¡¯t bother me. Why would it? It wasn¡¯t even my body. I didn¡¯t even have a body. I was 1208 years old and I was beyond such petty embarrassment. Alright, maybe it bothered me a tiny, insignificant amount. And I might have secretly used a Wind Breath spell to pull down the clergyman''s trousers as he walked away, my only robe in hand. Once they had vacated the premises my drinking companion was kind enough to lend me his coat, to at least cover me up. Once I was decent, he shook my hand and introduced himself properly. ¡°Name''s Tintagel,¡± he announced, a broad grin on his face. ¡°Osseus,¡± I replied. ¡°That was smart of you, not to cause a fuss. The Church of Light has a lot of power in this city.¡± ¡°They do?¡± I asked, curious. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll tell you about it but we should go to my place. Get you some clothes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± I protested, but he wasn¡¯t having any of it. ¡°Beats drinking and feeling sorry for myself,¡± he said, downing the last of the ale and slamming the tankard on the table. Going back through the drinking room was harder the second time as the performers had picked up the tempo, and people were dancing, spinning, and twirling in a way that only seemed competent to a drunk. ¡°What¡¯s the occasion?¡± I asked, when I could finally hear myself think again, out in the cold night air. ¡°Woden¡¯s term just started,¡± he said, as if that explained it. ¡°I don¡¯t follow,¡± I replied, rather too loudly. ¡°All the Witches, Wizards, Sorcerers, and Warlocks are back safely behind their walls. They¡¯re not out in the city causing havoc. Anyone with the slightest ounce of mana from within the kingdom and without, gets sent there; for a lot of them it¡¯s too far to travel back home for the holidays, and we¡¯re stuck with a city full of magic running amuck, for six weeks a year,¡± he elaborated. ¡°It can¡¯t be that bad,¡± I protested, never having heard of so many magically gifted people in one place. He guffawed, ¡°just you wait, when half term rolls around, you¡¯ll know just how bad it gets. You¡¯ve seen the main gate no doubt, the lord built that as a reminder to all the trouble makers, to stay in line¡­ Didn¡¯t work mind.¡± I paled, thinking back on the macabre monument, it would have to get pretty bad for something like that to be a popular move. Tintagel was rather spry for his age, although he did seem to favour his left leg. He led us through a labyrinth of twisting warrens, the city too vast and sprawling to keep a clear picture within my mind. Eventually, we came to a somewhat middling district with four story tenements. Tintagel unlocked the door to a small ground-floor dwelling which abutted the river, giving it a nice view. In the residential boroughs, partiers could still be heard, though far more quietly. Leaping into a dusty wardrobe, the older man started rummaging through a lifetime¡¯s collection of clothes. Tops, bottoms, and everything in between went flying across the room as he dug through the collection, even a varied selection of women''s undergarments and a costume that might only fit a dog. ¡°Here it is!¡± he proclaimed triumphant, atop a pile of vanquished cloth. ¡°Put these on,¡± he insisted, thrusting the clothes toward me. In his hands he held a thick, canvas coat, cut in the style of a smoking jacket that, instead of being tied closed - was held together with a series of leather straps and buckles. The material was black but appeared grey from long-use. It also came with a set of similarly styled trousers; essentially cloth armour. ¡°I can¡¯t take this, it¡¯s too much,¡± I tried, knowing something like this, even in its current condition, had some value. ¡°Nonsense, think of it as recompense for the drink you bought me,¡± Tintagel insisted. We went back and forth for some time, but my current state of undress eventually won him the argument. The thickness of the garb helped hide how bone-thin my frame was; I looked like a stick when it was all tightly cinched. ¡°There, nearly look as good as me in my prime,¡± he announced, when it was finally fitted. ¡°Thank you, truly.¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± he repeated for the third time, ¡°reminds me of my adventuring days,¡± he said, wistfully. ¡°You used to be an adventurer?¡± I asked, still curious about the unfamiliar profession. ¡°I was¡­ until I took an arrow to the knee,¡± he replied, slapping the body part in question - standing, ¡°right, let¡¯s get you signed up.¡± ¡°What, now?¡± I asked, looking out at the early morning sky. ¡°Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today,¡± he quoted. ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the night, will there be anyone there?¡± I asked. ¡°There is always someone there, in case of emergencies,¡± Tintagel explained vaguely. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ? An hour or so later, I found myself waiting outside a rather utilitarian building, surrounded by tall and decadent structures, in the guild district. Tintagel had gone into the lit building first, claiming he needed to ¡°make sure the coast was clear.¡± I didn¡¯t understand why, until an elderly woman¡¯s voice came bellowing out - setting nearby dogs to barking. ¡°YOU DEVIOUS, RABBLE-ROUSING, SLANDERER! THE LEVEL OF DISHONESTY¡­¡± the banshee wail continued, but I couldn¡¯t hear it over the sound of shattering glass. I was worried for the elderly man but he sprung back to his feet without a scratch. ¡°I¡¯m sorry honey, but I had to write that, my editor insisted,¡± Tintagle tried to console as he leaped back in through the door, only to be sent flying through another window - this time a chair hitting him solidly in the chest. He staggered slightly before righting himself. ¡°OLD! YOU CALLED ME OLD!¡± the voice yelled. ¡°Not old, just¡­ you¡¯ve been a guild master for a long time and some people, not me mind, think you might ¨C retire?¡­ maybe spend more time with your husband,¡± Tintagel pleaded, the last spoken under his breath. ¡°You don¡¯t think I¡¯m strong enough, do you? I¡¯ll show you I¡¯ve still got what it takes. I can still run circles around today''s adventures. This is that stupid lord''s fault. He thinks there should be a member of the church in my position doesn¡¯t he? Well, doesn''t he?¡± she shouted, continuing her tirade. An inkwell flew out of a third window and bounced off Tintagel¡¯s head, flying into the distance and causing cats to hiss. He swayed slightly. Realising I hadn¡¯t used the skill often enough, I activated Identify. ERROR - target level is too high to gain information. He seemed to notice the attempt, shooting me a grin and a knowing wink. The woman who exited the building was not what I expected. The Strength demonstrated and the general brutish carnage made me think the woman would be a hulking barbarian but instead out stepped a hunched back crone. She had long grey hair, a wart on her large nose and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her steps were small and shuffled and in her hand she brandished a wand. She used Wind Breath to nab a passing owl, much to its surprise, and slammed it into the elderly man¡¯s face. The creature was unharmed but it beaked and clawed desperately to remove itself from Tintagel. The level of grace and precision with which she used the spell was truly inspiring, she didn¡¯t even have to look to see the bird. It was subtle, but it was as though the air around us was her mana. I couldn¡¯t tell where one started and another began. I had been relying on a millennia of knowledge and brute force to get my spells to work in this world, but I had just seen how far I had to attain mastery. I was ecstatic. With her level of efficiency in Wind Breath alone I could hurl boulders around all day and replenish mana faster than it was spent. ¡°Loretta, please. It isn¡¯t like that.¡± ¡°Loretta, is it? I¡¯d love to ask about that Wind Breath,¡± my mind focused on nothing but the magic. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked, still hot with anger, ¡°and why are you wearing Tinny¡¯s old armour?¡± ¡°I brought him here to get registered,¡± Tintagel tried to explain. ¡°Where did you meet this one, out drinking again,¡± Loretta berated. ¡°Well I might have had a couple,¡± he replied, sheepishly. ¡°I know what your Poison Resistance is, I know that a couple wouldn¡¯t do a thing. How much money did you waste this time, go on spill it!¡± Loretta demanded. ¡°Your mana is melded seamlessly with the air. How do you do that?¡± I gushed, ignoring the spat. Loretta stopped and blushed slightly, ¡°well at least he has manners, unlike some of the lot you bring me.¡± She turned to me and spoke more gently, ¡°come inside dear, we need more folk like you in the guild. IF I¡¯M TO BE REPLACED!¡± She yelled at the old man, who didn¡¯t seem phased in the least. leading the way inside, Tinny tried to follow but she stopped him. Producing two giant lead weights from a special ring she forced him to hold them out to each side until she got back. With reluctance, he agreed, and I was left alone with a fascinating Witch. ¡°Would you like a mint lad?¡± she asked, in a tone more suited to old ladies. ¡°I¡¯m fine, thanks,¡± I said as I continued to study the aura around her. I could see through which nodes it entered and exited her mana system and I was beginning to understand how it worked. She may have called me a lad but my current guise, that of the Black tower¡¯s Archmagus, appeared closer to thirty. ¡°I can see you looking at my Wind Domain, it¡¯s rude to stare,¡± she chided gently. ¡°It¡¯s a Master tier spell, you seem to have enough mana, so with maybe a decade of study, you might be able to learn a death-mana version, to suit your affinity,¡± I nodded absently as she spoke, running the calculations in my head. Working out how mana from different nodes might react with the environment and with itself. We came to a plain desk, square and unremarkable. There were two doors either side of it, leading further into the building but from here, I could only see the reception. She sat at the desk and shuffled around the papers, retrieving a form. Part of my brain, that wasn¡¯t working on the current problem, clicked. ¡°You¡¯re the receptionist, I thought you were the guild master?¡± I asked. ¡°Why not both?¡± she countered with a wicked grin, ¡°besides I¡¯ve always believed how people treat the receptionist is more telling than how they treat the guild master. That, and I like throwing fools through windows, they have a repair enchantment; see?¡± She gestured to the glass which had reconstructed itself. On the cill was inscribed some form of enchantment. I was, of course, interested but my brain was otherwise occupied. ¡°Just sign here.¡± she said and I did so. ¡°That¡¯s everything,¡± she declared, tossing me an iron pin. On its head was a shield with a map, sword and crossed wand. ¡°That''s it?¡± I asked, looking down at the rather short document that I hadn¡¯t bothered reading. ¡°All it says is it¡¯s not our fault if you go off and get yourself killed,¡± she replied, filing away the form. ¡°Fair enough,¡± I shrugged. She led me into the room to the left. opening the door, glowstones, like Wand and Staff had possessed, flickered to life, illuminating the space. At the far end of the room was what looked like a bar but was, in fact, a long line of connected desks. Seats, empty, spaced out behind it. The other three walls were covered in noticeboards on which were, placed neatly, rows of posters. Some possessed illustrations of horrifying monsters, others of various plants. Listed also was the amount of money each job paid. The noticeboards were all protected by a layer of magically reinforced glass. ¡°How do I take one?¡± I asked. ¡°You see the reference number in the bottom left?¡± to which I nodded. ¡°Take that to the desk and someone will tell you how many people, if any, are already working that job, and, when they were dispatched. First to complete the job gets the pay, no exceptions. Helps us solve people''s problems in a timely fashion.¡± ¡°And I can take any of these, there''s no prerequisites?¡± I asked, distractedly as I wandered around the room, looking at quest after quest. ¡°Of course, we don¡¯t have some hierarchy like the masons guild or the merchants guild. If you get yourself killed on a mission that¡¯s your fault, and the guild is better as a whole for it. Take whichever quest suits you and if you¡¯re having trouble, the staff will be happy to help you,¡± she went on, as if she was talking about a favourite grandchild. ¡°I¡¯ve got it!¡± I exclaimed, excited. ¡°Got what?¡± she asked, confused. I gathered the mana through the correct pathways, ebbing and flowing in certain nodes, before dispersing out into the ambient mana. Instead of dissipating, it slowly merged with the air-mana in the room until it all became an extension of my magical network. It was crude and heavy handed compared to Loretta''s version but it worked! Congratulations: ¡°Noctus¡¯ tits!¡± Loretta blurted, flabbergasted. Chapter 24: First Quest Chapter 24: First Quest Wind Domain was a strange spell. It was less of a spell and more of a technique. It turned the air around me into an extension of my mana network. If I could learn to use it accurately, I would be able to cast in any direction at a reduced cost; as my power wouldn¡¯t leak into the ambient mana, and I would be able to recycle any residual magic. Right now however, it felt as though I had sprouted a dozen waving tentacles that swayed wildly in the breeze, each covered in fine Villi, bombarding my senses with everything around me; a rather disorienting feeling. I shut off the spell and could finally hear Loretta¡¯s raving: ¡°Dual affinities! Dual affinities! How have I never heard of him before? There¡¯s only a handful on the continent.¡± She looked up from her pacing and saw that I was once again cognizant, ¡°Arrrr, I want to strangle you, how long have you been working towards that. To think you¡¯d used me to push you over the edge. What level are you?¡± she asked rhetorically, before I felt a faint itch over my skin, ¡°Only level 22 that can¡¯t be right¡­¡± She narrowed her eyes, shaking her wand at me threateningly, ¡°a Lich, how are you a Lich?¡± I tensed up at the question, ready for a fight but still answered, ¡°how do you think?¡± Her posture relaxed slightly and she lowered her wand, ¡°I know how someone can become a Lich. I also know they would have to be an incredibly powerful mage to begin with. And yet even with Identify maxed out, I can¡¯t see any other classes. I don¡¯t sense any interference; did you somehow relinquish your first class?¡± She asked with genuine curiosity. I let down my guard slightly, confused, ¡°I¡­ Well, aren''t you supposed to attack me or something?¡± Now it was her turn to look confused, ¡°Why? Because you¡¯re undead. The adventures guild is practical, you¡¯re not going around murdering people mindlessly so why should we care. Most of our best adventure¡¯s have their fair share of secrets¡­¡± she paused and waggled a finger at me, ¡°don¡¯t go telling that Church of Light lot, they¡¯ve been on the warpath ever since they got that new Paladin. Anyway, back to my question: how are you a Lich? And none of your cheek!¡± ¡°Why would I answer that?¡± I asked, now that she had calmed down. ¡°You studied my use of Wind Domain without asking, pushed you over the edge into learning it too, this is the least you can do,¡± she said, having regained some of her composure. I considered correcting the old woman but I felt that wouldn¡¯t help either of us. I internally debated what to say, she already knew I was an undead, apparently anyone with a high enough Identify skill could find me out. I was lucky I hadn¡¯t been spotted already. ¡°Is there a way to hide from Identify?¡± I asked, hesitantly. ¡°Yes¡­ several?¡± she allowed, after a moment. ¡°If you give me a way to hide my Class from the Skill I¡¯ll tell you,¡± I offered. She took her time to think it over, eventually agreeing. I gave her the bare bones of my story, not revealing any details lest it come back to bite me. I told her that I had been a magi in another world, a world without a System. The concept seemed bizarre to her and she had a million questions. By the time I got through them all the sun had begun to rise. Loretta had been initially excited by my tale but later admitted disappointment, she had hoped to find a way to relinquish her main class, Witch, because she didn¡¯t believe she would be able to gain another level in her lifetime. When I asked what level she was, she only smiled. Asking about other Classes proved more fruitful. Normally, someone could have only one class, received when they came to maturity, between twelve and sixty-six depending upon the person and their race. There were a number of theories of how Classes were assigned, the most popular being: the actions you took up until that point determined it. The only problem was, all Classes were combat based and very few kids did any real fighting. She also let me know, although one''s Class was assigned, anyone could choose their Profession and that gave similar, if less powerful, abilities and skills - but no attribute points. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Apparently, Identify gave people¡¯s combined level when assessing someone. There was no way to gain a secondary class, although some people received them. Anyone could obtain a Subclass. One attains a Subclass at levels 25, 50, and 75. Subclasses level slowly and retard the levelling of your main Class, but each level in a Subclass grants a powerful Spell or Skill. There are five levels to a Subclass. To obtain the highest level, one not only has to earn enough experience but also complete a System mandated test. Since one¡¯s main Class couldn¡¯t level up without the Subclass levelling, this acted as a bottleneck for many adventurers. ? When Loretta¡¯s interest finally waned, and she had assured me that the guild was obliged to keep my secret, it was time for her to fulfil her end of the bargain. She took me outside, where Tintagel was still dutifully holding out his weights. It had been hours, and he still hadn¡¯t broken a sweat. She ordered that he teach me Conceal and in return she might forgive the article he had written. Learning the skill was surprisingly easy if tedious. It required one to notice, and try to hide from, someone using Identify on them¡­ 128 times. I still had 1 SP(Skill Point), from increasing my Skills, but Loretta insisted they were better used to obtain Skills one couldn¡¯t so easily learn. Evidently, using 3 SP on Identify was a terrible waste, as one got fewer and fewer with each level of one¡¯s Skills. By the time I was ready to set off on my first adventure, the morning had fully arrived. If I didn¡¯t know better, I might have thought a zombie plague had struck the town. People stumbled about moaning and clutching their heads - trying to stay out of direct sunlight. Some of the employees that shambled into the adventurers guild building seemed particularly the worse for wear after last night''s debauchery. Congratulations: When I reentered the boardroom, staff were still setting up their section of the monodesk and none looked up as I entered. I scanned the boards briefly, but couldn¡¯t choose, so I walked up to the most alive looking adventurers guild worker and asked: ¡°Which job should I take?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you before, are you new to Wiccawick?¡± she asked in response. ¡°New to adventuring,¡± I replied with a grin. ¡°In that case, we have a bit of a tradition around here. Everyone takes that recurring quest as their first job, it always needs doing and someone has to do it,¡± she said, indicating a poster. I walked over to it. The Quest was to slay something called Ratechin, the image looking somewhat like a rat but with lamprey teeth. The pay was good, a silver piece per head, and there didn¡¯t seem to be a limit. The location, however, was undesirable: in the sewers. ¡°How many Ratechin are there?¡± I asked. ¡°It¡¯s Rat-e-chin, not Rate-chin,¡± she corrected, ¡°and no one knows exactly, but definitely hundreds. The sewers are filled with them.¡± I nodded in reluctance, setting out on my first quest. Chapter 25: What Lies Beneath Chapter 25: What Lies Beneath I was given directions to the nearest sewer access-point and was eager to get my first payday in centuries. As the wealthy know, wealth begets wealth and I owned a number of businesses in life which provided more than enough income to maintain my experiments. As I strode through the throngs of groggy city folk, I tried again to use Wind Domain but was overwhelmed by sensation. Eventually, I was able to stabilise a domain a hair''s width above my Illusionary Skin which had so quickly become a habit. It wasn''t much but with constant diligence I knew I could grow the spell. Walking through the city was a daymare, a goodly number of the buildings were twisted or disfigured in some way; making navigation all the more difficult. At first I had attributed this to poor building standards, however, on closer inspection, it was evident that this was the work of out-of-control magic. The main clue was a bakery that inexplicably grew wings and took flight. I was starting to see why people had so much dislike for magic folk. Woden¡¯s was clearly no help in this regard, growing mana pools and overconfidence in spell theory was as much a problem in this new world as it was in my old. Before long I came to the entrance I was searching for: in a hidden alley, where one wall had been turned into a liquid and splashed in a wave against the other. Leaving a tunnel, about half my height, leading to the sewer entrance. The wave was at an angle, so when I came to the metal gate, I was able to stand straight. To the left of the gate was a gargoyle, its twin presumably incarcerated in stone. ¡°Good sir, if I am not mistaken, you are new to these sewers are you not?¡± the imp-shaped gargoyle asked, adjusting his spectacles. I was rather surprised, but in retrospect it was rather in keeping with the city''s aesthetic. ¡°You are a golem?¡± I asked, studying the organic spell structure within the creature. ¡°Yes, I am a golem, but I would prefer you call me Ravin. Anyhow, I am obliged to warn you that there are many dangers awaiting you below. Not least of which is the rampant Ratechin population. The tunnels beneath Wiccawich are many and varied. They merged together over time and have created something that is almost alive and it doesn¡¯t like people leaving,¡± Ravin espoused. As the two foot creature spoke I moved in close, poking and prodding whilst I studied the working. To his credit he didn¡¯t so much as flinch at my intrusive actions. The spell had, at one time, made a simple golem that might carry things or do basic jobs. Except, the caster had been sloppy; Ravin was unable to move; he was cemented to the ground, and as such, couldn¡¯t be employed as intended. Fortunately for the golem, the spellshape was full of holes and all types of ambient mana had, over time, worked their way into the structure and distorted it forming an organic, inorganic life form. In that way, he was much like a magical beast, parts of him could undoubtedly be used as spell components. ¡°Ht hmm, would you like to know how you might leave the labyrinthine tunnels once your work is done?¡± Ravin asked, appearing uncomfortable under my hungry stare. ¡°What was that¡­ oh yes if you please,¡± I answered, dismissing the notion from my mind. I may be a Lich but I wasn¡¯t evil, besides Dante would be furious if he found out. But what he didn¡¯t know¡­ ¡°The tunnels both do and don¡¯t move. If you know where you are, you can¡¯t be lost, if you don¡¯t then you are. The sewers have numbers written on the walls every hundred paces or so, this entrance is between 345 and 346. So long as you keep in mind which numbers you have passed and follow that on the way there and back you won¡¯t get lost. If you misremember then the tunnels will change to suit your wrongful assumption, and before you know it, you won¡¯t know where you are. Some of the older tunnels don¡¯t have this system, so I advise you to steer clear. Oh, and whatever you do, if you see a path leading lower, do not take it - whatever you do,¡± Ravin ended in a tone mothers use on children everywhere. Throughout, I nodded along distractedly; pondering how to bring up the topic. ¡°Might I ask something of you, Ravin,¡± I asked. The stone imp stopped for a second, not expecting follow up questions, but gestured for me to go ahead. ¡°Could I take a part of you,¡± I said bluntly. ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± the civilised construct asked incredulously. ¡°Only a small part mind, say a finger or toe, purely for academic purposes you understand,¡± I elaborated, earnestly. ¡°Are you quite mad?¡± Ravin retorted, his hands on his hips. ¡°There has been some debate on the subject,¡± I allowed, ¡°but I am just curious. I would like to study a sample of you and determine its magical effects.¡± ¡°Absolutely not, now get lost before I call the guard,¡± Ravin replied. I shrugged, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I heard the gargoyle golem mutter something under his breath as I entered, but what it was I couldn¡¯t say. ? I was lost. There had been one instruction: keep track of the numbers. And yet as soon as I found a blue glowing lichen growing with trace amounts of enhancement mana, I became¡­ distracted. On the plus side, my knapsack now contained samples of a rather intriguing moss. Another Ratechin came out in front of me; unable to see in the dark, they seemed to find me by my smell. The dog sized rodent lunged, circular mouth open and eager to gnaw on my bones. I sliced it in half with my sword. I tried using the crossbow, also gained from looting the fort, but the string snapped on its first shot and I was forced to throw it away. It landed in the river of sewage that flowed in a groove in the centre of the tunnel and, from then on, had been lost. It was always time to practise magic, but there was something nostalgic about attempting half-remembered sword-forms from a bygone age. That was the twenty fifth Ratechin that had rushed me without thought, some of the rust was starting to shake off my technique. I wouldn¡¯t be able to match a real swordsman but I shouldn¡¯t embarrass myself. Ravin was right, the tunnels were almost alive. Whenever I thought I knew the number I¡¯d just passed, looking back, that would be the number I saw. Somehow I had made it from 345 to 27, likely having misread a sign. I bent down and cut off the Ratechin¡¯s left ear as proof for payment, before continuing into the darkness. In the middle of harvesting more sewer-moss, something caught my proverbial eye; beneath a layer of lichen lay the likeness of a lustrous lycanthrope laying languidly in its lair. Ordinarily, I might have thought nothing of the carving, except that my Life Sense could see the moss growing under the creature''s left fang. Curious, I pressed on the area and the beast''s eyes, which had been closed, snapped open. One was a light green, made from some kind of naturally occurring mana gem. The other was a similar object, except brown. I hadn¡¯t sensed them, the eyelids acted as a mana insulator. Now, they were giving off interfering waves of wind and earth-mana respectively, creating magical dissonance. Acting on a whim, I touched the green gem lightly with Wind Breath, it lit up brightly and the waves of wind-mana started to overpower the earth. A rumbling ensued. Next to the mural the wall shook and a nine foot blocky humanoid tore itself free. The spell work which had gone into its construction was hidden from my eyes by an outer layer, similar to the werewolf''s eyelids; that wouldn¡¯t do, not at all. It swung an oversized fist clumsily and I ducked it without much effort. I darted in, sword swinging, and clanged it against the thing¡¯s torso in a cut that would have disembowelled a normal nine foot human, but simply clanked against metal-clad stone. I side stepped another blow, examining the injury. As I thought, the coating was simple lead, perfect for blocking mana signals. My sword chipped but the lead was already beginning to peel. I worked in and out, each time slicing away more of lead casing, each time damaging my sword further on the stone beneath. My technique sharpened as the sword dulled, and, before I knew it, the majority of golem¡¯s chest was visible to my magical eye. Unlike Ravin, the spellwork was robust and hadn¡¯t morphed over time. Earth-mana was running a clear and rigid pattern creating its own internal magical system. Golems worked similarly, as I knew them, except every node would have to be an earth attuned spell component making them very costly. This example didn¡¯t even have a core; mana alone was sufficient to get it to work. As we danced, I withdrew my notebook and sketched the spellshape, taking careful note of all the positions. This creature may be powerful, but it was laughably slow, it did appear to have scared off any lurking ratechin however. Once I fully comprehended the structure, I was able to identify weaknesses and possible improvements. I jammed an earth-mana infused Bone Claw into one such vulnerability, my sword long-since ruined. It wasn¡¯t able to penetrate far, but it was enough; the monster locked solid, turned back to regular stone for at least a minute. Working quickly and carefully I etched the mana pathways into the opposite stone wall, with my improvements. I flooded the structure with earth-mana, making sure to shape the spell correctly. The magic took hold and started sucking in earth-mana from the ground, just in time. I was occupied and didn¡¯t notice the original golem had reanimated. Bones bounced around the tunnel, scattering in all directions. It took me nearly a minute to rearticulate. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Congratulations: For a moment my soul was summoned to my old tower, where I frantically performed tests on a dozen different golem designs, in this mental space where mana and money were no object. Before I knew it, my consciousness repaired to the land of the unliving. I was greeted by the thunderous booms of a golem slugfest. Both were heavily damaged and rock was strewn across the tunnel floor; mine, however, seemed to be pulling ahead. I had given it a slight edge in speed and he was using that to its full extent. Devastating strikes turned into grazing blows and crushing kicks never landed. Even so, it was a close thing, and I thought I ought to give my creation a hand. Using a partial Earth Golem spell on a fresh patch of stone I created a hand, only about the size of my own. Overcharging the construction with earth-mana, I sent it scurrying at my foe. The enemy shot a straight right at my golem, missing only by inches. A counter strike was launched but the first golem raised its left arm in defence. Just then, my hand-spider reached its target and detonated, right on one of the weak spots. The golem¡¯s defensive arm shot up uncontrollably, shattering off chunks from the ceiling. A destructive counter was landed and my golem seized the opportunity; bearing the other to the ground, raining blow after blow. I cheered him on as rocks turned to pebbles turned to dust. It felt like being back in the colosseum; watching the fights, spurred on by the energy of the crowd. When my creation rose, I made it raise its arms in victory - before undoing the enchantment; I couldn¡¯t leave something like that lying around. Click The wind-mana gem fell to the ground, free of its setting. I made sure to scoop it up before it rolled into the river of sewage. Time for round two, I thought, as I turned to the brown stone. Flooding it with earth-mana, I expected another tunnel shaking awakening but instead, a finger sized circle of stone fell from the wall. Peering into the hole, I was struck in the skull by a sudden gust of wind which separated head from body. From the opening emerged a wind elemental, made of nothing but air, it seemed angry. It wailed, the sound of wind through an endless dessert. Slicing at it with a Windblade had little effect. I ran my body clumsily over to my head and groped for it. My cloth-armour remained intact under the onslaught, which surprised me as it had no magical reinforcement. Slices that landed on my bones had no effect, save for knocking me back slightly. Seizing the opportunity, I expanded my Wind Domain rapidly. Constantly overwhelmed with sensation, it was impossible to determine where I ended and the wind began. Controlling what I thought to be my body through an upside down hazy projection that changed with every second; I made my way over to the wind spirits soul. It was a thing of innocent emotion and without the wind under its command, it was scared. I layed a deadly claw atop the shivering ball and willed a soothing feeling into it through Soul Manipulation. At first, it was skittish like a newborn foal but with a calm and constant tone it finally relaxed. releasing Wind Domain, I reeled back - disoriented. The wind spirit, again in control of the air, used it to engulf me. For a second I thought I had been too soft, but my fears were unfounded. It was using the wind, not to harm, but as a sort of embrace. When it was released, I was scrapped clean of dirt and grime and felt refreshed. I had thought once the spirit was free it would leave, but to my surprise, it zipped around my ankles like an excited puppy. If it wished to stick around that''s fine, it might prove a useful test subject. Its energy was enduring; having the potential to withstand a number of experiments. That''s why there was a smile on my face, no other reason, not that there wasn¡¯t always. Another Clink and another gem collected. Looking back up at the carving the werewolf blinked, its eyes replaced with stone. Standing; growling menacingly. After she had made her disposition clear, she stalked back into her cave and out of sight. The lair proceeded to split in two, revealing a passage. I entered without a second thought and the opening closed behind me. I found myself in a short hallway with glowstones that came to life after a moment. There was nothing here but a wooden door at the far end, so I ventured forth. Opening the door I found myself, of all places, in a study. The walls were lined with books, sadly rotted by time and illegible. A work bench sat against one wall, inscription tools and magical components strewn about haphazard. Abutting it was a desk, on which lay the rotten scraps of notes. This seemed to have been, at one time, a hidden workshop for some kind of enchanter. I stepped around the room carefully examining what I could. What few papers remained were blown about by the wind spirit and subsequently destroyed. Mildly disappointed, I packed away what I could. There was very little of note, the inscription tools were, themselves, enchanted - to cut through stone as if it were clay. They were probably the best find. There was also a fire-mana gem and a feather that seemed similar to the one I had sensed in Wand''s wand. I sat in a mouldy arm chair that creaked even under my weight. Lifting a mug from a side table, I examined it. It was moulded to the shape of a greenman''s face, there was nothing special about it. I placed the tankard absently back on the table. Smash. Looking down, the clay mug had shattered and the table was not where I thought it to be. I went to lay a bony hand on the coffee table; my Illusionary Skin had been released when I had scattered, I hadn¡¯t bothered to recast it - my hand passed through empty air. The furniture had scurried aside. I stood and tried to catch it, missed, and proceeded to spend the next few minutes chasing a small table around the room. The wind-spirit, whom I had taken to calling Vento, helped me, by corralling the troublesome thing with its airy appendages. Eventually, I was able to lay my claws on it, lifting it into the air triumphant. Vento¡¯s emotions reflected my own as it swished around the room in celebration. The table-legs squirmed under my grasp but I held firm. Flipping it over, I examined its underside; sure enough, there was a spellshape engraved into the wood. As best I could tell, it was supposed to move to catch that mug, now that it was smashed the coffee table had gone haywire. I carefully scratched a line through the enchantment and let the delicate mix of mana bleed out. Unlike the Earth Golem, this was a much more complex creation; making me believe whomever used to work here was a Golemancer. It explained the different mana stones. Unlike me, they would require a variety of different mana types to create such a thing. I spent the next half hour scouring the room for any other hidden enchantments, but to no avail. Tired, I slumped back into an armchair. It collapsed; leaving me coughing up dust in a pile of decaying fabric. I seethed for a moment but seeing Vento¡¯s concern, laughed it off. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I assured. It couldn''t understand the words, but the sentiment was enough. I took a moment to relax. ¡°Will two pounds of gold be enough?¡± one voice whispered harshly. ¡°The patriarch authorised three, but we keep the difference, so you better convince him,¡± a second came. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be hard, seeing him you¡¯d never think greed was a sin,¡± the first laughed. I stepped toward the door but the sound wasn¡¯t coming from that direction. I stalked quietly around the room, trying to find the origin of the whispers. Once Vento figured out what we were doing, he was most useful; able to detect the vibrations in the air, he pointed me towards a bookcase. I used an overpowered Necrotising Bolt to disintegrate it, silently. On the wall behind, I found a grate through which the voices could be heard clearly. As I gently pried it from the wall, they stopped talking; I froze, halfway through the act. They resumed conversation and I got back to work. Revealing a square hole, just bigger than my head, that looked out onto an underground storehouse below. Boxes and crates were stacked to the ceiling in places. Almost fifty feet beneath me a couple of guys gabbed away, seeming to be two perfectly normal humans. My Life Sense told me otherwise, there was no doubt, they were undead. Just then the yammering stopped as torchlight illuminated the far end of the room. One elbowed the other and they stood straight, ready to receive their guest. from around a corner came a very familiar clergyman, replete in finery, and accompanied by a pair of guards, a step behind. ¡°You wanted to meet?¡± the priest asked, in a haughty tone. ¡°Our master has another request for you,¡± the leader of the two conveyed, skipping straight to business. ¡°Really?¡± the extortionist asked, avarice clear in his heart. ¡°As you know, the abbot is a big supporter of Orlando''s undead hunts,¡± the second said. ¡°Who isn¡¯t, it¡¯s great publicity for The Church,¡± The priest explained in a detached manner. ¡°We aren''t, obviously,¡± the second snarled, but was held back by the first. ¡°Take this,¡± the first said, producing a vial of some queer liquid and placing it on a crate between them. ¡°Slip it into his afternoon tea, he won¡¯t taste a thing.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not poisoning him,¡± the priest replied firmly, ¡°if he dies, I wouldn¡¯t be able to withstand the investigation.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t kill him,¡± the undead assured, ¡°he will just become more¡­ amenable to our requests. No more vampire hunts.¡± I thought I heard a distant gasp at the last, but the others didn¡¯t so I ignored it. ¡°Ohh, I don¡¯t know,¡± the holy man began hissing through his teeth. ¡°There would be a lot of risk on my part, I would have to be compensated.¡± Greed gleamed in his eyes. ¡°Two pounds,¡± The first said simply, his face unflinching. ¡°Three,¡± the priest retorted. ¡°Two and a half, final offer,¡± the second said, holding his cool less-well. ¡°Fine,¡± he conceded after a moment''s thought. The first produced a heavy sack; somehow, containing the exact amount from behind the crate. Both parties noted it. Suddenly, another priest emerged from the same tunnel as the first. He was young, maybe sixteen or seventeen, his skin red with anger and his cheeks glistening with tears, trailing him was a girl of the same age, in the same dress, trying to pull him back. Crying with anger, he shouted, ¡°Iago, I trusted you, I thought you the shining example of priesthood. But this! Plotting to poison the Abbot, and dealing with vampires. I know that deep-down you are still the man I admire, look inside yourself, find the light, and vanquish these undead scum.¡± The last was said as a plea, one arm outstretched in invitation, the other being yanked back desperately by a scared young woman. The guarded priest raised an eyebrow at his laughing vampire conspirators and said, ¡°will you take care of them or shall I.¡± Chapter 26: The Magic of an Archmagus Chapter 26: The Magic of an Archmagus I might have stood by, watched the child get killed for his stupidity and looted the magical items I felt were stored below when the coast was clear. I might have, if not for Vento. He sensed in the lad, as in himself, a pure soul. I could feel his need to help the pair and I wasn¡¯t so cruel as to ignore his desire. I conveyed to Vento what I wanted of him, pulled the fire mana gem from my knapsack and began my plan. If I was to act, I didn¡¯t want there to be any way to tell what had happened here. When a pile of bones, clad in black cloth, fell from the ceiling to clatter between the three parties, Iago stopped mid order. ? He had been about to instruct his thugs to end the idiot and his friend when a strangely carved set of bones fell from above. They didn¡¯t move so Iago looked up. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± He asked, spying the hole above him. Turning to the other parties they seemed just as confused. A gust of wind came from nowhere and picked up the two children, whisking them out of the room and back into the hidden tunnels. ¡°After them!¡± Iago ordered, feeling something was terribly wrong. ¡°I beg you, wait a moment.¡± A learned voice spoke from behind him. Shivers went down his spine. He spun, clenching his sticky palms. ¡°Who are¡­ What are you?¡± Iago asked, his voice trailing off into a whisper. His gulp was audible in the silence of the room, even the vampires knew something was off. ¡°Come on, he may be a mage but his mana isn¡¯t much more than professor Periculum¡¯s.¡± The leader of the vampires, the only mage in their number, encouraged them. Iago knew the professor, a dour man who acted as Woden¡¯s contact with the underworld of Wiccawich. Iago would always maintain a proud face in front of him but he could admit to himself he feared the man a little, if this skeleton was stronger¡­ ¡°I do apologize, it is considered bad manners to lie to the dead.¡± The figure spoke, matter-of-factly. Not being a mage Iago could not truly tell what happened next but that feeling that waited at the back of his mind, just waiting to pounce, multiplied a hundred fold. His connection to the holy light, which had grown ever more tenuous over the past years, snapped leaving him alone in darkness. The vampire leader¡¯s eyes bulged and he tried to run without a second thought. All about Iago figures emerged from the boxes following their leader, there were dozens of them. For a brief moment Iago was thankful he didn¡¯t push them too hard in negotiations. The undead simply withdrew from his bag a clump of common glowmoss and a valuable wind mana gem. With motions Iago was unfamiliar with the stranger did something to the items and then he took in a deep breath, somehow. When he breathed out black smoke billowed forth, seeping into the eyes and nose of the fleeing vampires. They fell to the ground as a whole, some of the stronger ones tried in vain to crawl away. His bodyguards proved to be worth their salt however as they rushed the creature while it''s back was turned. This too was in vain, without him turning lightning shot out, boring holes in their limbs. The skeleton continued his breath circling the room. Iago had stayed stock sill the entire time, frozen in fear, but when the fog met his lungs he too dropped. It wasn¡¯t death that enveloped Iago, nor was this a curse of paralysis. He felt impossibly fatigued, it was as though he couldn¡¯t get up even if his life depended on it and it surely did. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Funny thing about components embodied with enhancement mana,¡± The undead began offhandedly. ¡°They can be used more easily to weaken than to strengthen. I¡¯ve certainly made that mistake before.¡± He chuckled grimly. ¡°If I''m going to teach you something I should probably wear this face.¡± The skeleton explained, except when Iago looked there was no longer a skeleton. In his place stood an elderly man with a long grey beard and twinkling blue eyes. Iago tried to ask the kindly man for help but all that came forth was gurgling. The vampires leader wasn¡¯t so heavily restrained and when the man pried open a create and removed an egg he was able to slur out a few words: ¡°No¡­ you can¡¯t.¡± ¡°I thought as much,¡± the man said in the voice of that monster. ¡°This here is something very special indeed. With this I can cast a spell I have been wanting to for a very long time. A friend of mine banned me from doing it, and said it was a mockery. I beg to differ.¡± Iago¡¯s certain death proceeded to remove a number of objects from his bag. Clearing an area of floor he began carving a massive and intricate diagram. In one corner he placed a jar filled with a strange pale blue goo. In another three others he place an earth, wind, and fire mana gem. In the centre he placed the egg which was as large as his torso. ¡°They¡¯re probably far enough away by now.¡± He reckoned, looking off in the direction the two kids had been whisked away in. He then began some kind of demon dance whilst speaking in tongues. ? So far the plan was going smoothly, I had immobilised all of the enemies and Vento had rescued the innocents. All that was left was to clean up. It was finally time, I could cast a spell I had wanted to test for centuries, I skipped about gleefully as my audience looked on. I became casting the first layer of the spell with my left hand, the second layer with my right, the third by my ear holes. the forth was taken care of by some arcane chanting, the fifth layer was done by the movement of my eye holes, the sixth was done by the movement of my feet, the seventh my hips, the eighth by the movement of one arm (separate of the hand), and finally the ninth by the other arm. This wasn¡¯t strictly necessary, all that was required was splitting one focus on several layers at once but the physical components made it much more likely I would succeed. The first stage of the spell took effect, using the technique from my armour summoning spell I was able to slip the centre of the circle into the plane of elemental fire. This saved considerable amounts of mana for the later stages. When I deemed the egg was done cooking I moved onto the next stage. When the portal closed I was left with a bright red egg. Using the Fire mana gem as the spark, the wind mana gem to provide oxygen, and the earth mana gem to provide the fuel: I created a pillar of flame about the egg. Ever growing, ever spinning. It grew so intense that I began to fear my Magically Reinforced Bones might melt. Just in time the egg began to crack, not from inside but from outside. In a split second the egg turned to ash, its contents long deceased. It was time for the final step. Using most of the ectoplasm I was able to forge a connection with whatever place housed souls and I sent out the call. A call where the only word was fire. Finally the spell hit its compilation and the fire vanished, leaving the chamber dark. I saw the remaining foes take a breath in relief, I only laughed maniacally. My magnum opus was at the tipping point. Either nothing would happen or¡­.. Pop¡­ WHOOOOOSH. Hundreds of feet of warehouse, containing thousands of boxes, was incinerated in an instant. All of my belongings were turned to dust, save my robes for some reason. I didn¡¯t care. I had done it, I had actually done it. Its body was made of various shades of flame. The scales have an orange hue, the talons white hot. Eyes, burning with an emerald flame, stared at me. Its wings stretched, cramped by the underground space, where they touched stone it melted and turned to slag. A voice that sounded like crackling firewood rumbled, ¡°Zeto, is that you.¡± The sound of the name caused my spine to shiver and I stopped the impromptu jig. My mood turned serious in an instant with just those four words. Chapter 27: The Ghibellines Chapter 27: The Ghibellines Something deep within Dante¡¯s soul tore desperately at its enclosure when he saw his lute break. The ghost had seemed trustworthy, even though Sqwent was screaming the opposite in his head. Why would he believe in a demon over someone who had been entrusted with a noble title. Now, more than an instrument was broken. He could not hear the words that the hidden part of him screamed, he could not yet remember, but the emotions passed that invisible boundary without impedance. They were raw and overwhelming, he knew that a bard''s instrument should be dear to him, but this was something more. The bare edges of a woman, older than he, looking pale and sickly returned to haunt his mind; he knew not why. Recovering from the onslaught of emotion was harder than he would have imagined, before long they approached a city he knew to be called: Wiccawich. Because of the presence of the magic school, the city had grown over the years, swallowing a number of nearby towns; though they insisted on still identifying as separate. It was strange what his mind would allow him to remember, it never seemed to be what was important. They were crossing the bridge from the borough of Pendle, into the city propper when Sqwent spoke up. ¡°That woman, whose presence you keep projecting in our mind. I can feel someone with mana that seems somehow connected to both her and you nearby,¡± he said internally. ¡°What? How? I can¡¯t feel mana and if she¡¯s just a memory, a painful one, but a memory nonetheless; how could you possibly feel her mana?¡± he asked, internally. ¡°Every living thing can feel mana, it¡¯s what makes this world work,¡± Sqwent explained, as if it were something everyone should know; for Dante knew it was. ¡°But I¡¯m not a mage¡­ am I?¡± Dante asked, begging to feel unsure. ¡°Of course not,¡± Sqwent squealed in their head, laughing. ¡°Mages know they can sense mana so they can, you don¡¯t so you can¡¯t.¡± ¡°What?¡± Dante asked, kindled hopes dashed. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense, you just told me I can and I still can¡¯t,¡± annoyance slipped into his internal tone. ¡°Do you think that if I told you something you¡¯d really believe it? Besides, even if you trusted me, your soul couldn¡¯t be convinced to believe it. From what I¡¯ve read, very few members of the mortal races can start to sense mana just because they were told that they could. That¡¯s also why most elves can cast, they¡¯re naturally arrogant,¡± Sqwent explained exasperatedly. Ever since Osseus had talked to him and bound him to Dante, the Imp had been much more agreeable. He still wouldn¡¯t tell Dante what exactly Osseus had done to convince him. Dante thought over what the little demon had said then stopped, staring blankly at the guard trying to blatantly extort them. ¡°Wait, you read? I took you for more of the teeth and claws sort,¡± Dante asked. Sqwent scoffed, ¡°sure it¡¯s fun to rampage on the mortal worlds but we only get the chance once in a blue moon. Demons live forever¡­ It¡¯s very boring,¡± he confessed, clearly saddened by the topic. Sqwent made a noise that sounded to Dante like someone pulling themselves together before continuing. ¡°Now, do you want my help finding that woman or not?¡± Dante almost agreed right away but something in his undead nature stopped him, it shattered the sympathy he was feeling towards the demon. ¡°Wait, how do I know you¡¯re not lying?¡± Dante asked. Sqwent breathed out sharply, then spoke, ¡°three reasons: first, I¡¯m bored, second, you keep flooding our mental space with images of her and feelings of grief¡­ it¡¯s getting annoying, and thirdly we¡¯re bound together. I could try and trick you, get you killed and escape my contract but I was stupid enough to give that damn monster my name and I don¡¯t want to spend the next century in one of his testing chambers.¡± With his newfound scepticism sated, he agreed to Sqwent¡¯s plan; leaving Osseus to conduct his business while we took care of this personal matter. Dante made sure to set a time and place to meet later, using his Class Skill, Persuasion, to help him. With excitement he set forth into the twisting and turning alley¡¯s of Wiccawich. ? He was lost. Sqwent could sense which direction to go, but once they were off the main thoroughfare, the city was a labyrinth. His predicament was not helped by this place''s magical deformities. At one point he had taken a tunnel that appeared to travel beneath a busy cartway, only to somehow end up trudging out of a pond in someone¡¯s back garden. Thankfully the occupants of the residence remained asleep as he heaved himself over the garden wall and back out onto the street. Several more trials were faced as they traversed the night, there seemed to be a festival in the city but Dante avoided the music makers, sometimes to his detriment. The loss of his instrument was still a raw wound and he didn¡¯t wish to stoke the embers of emotion. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. As they travelled, the streets got wider and the houses grander. They ran into less and less magical anomalies and there seemed to be active repair work in areas that had been affected by wild magic. A cobblestone with a mouth and eyes had been gagged and cordoned off; tools lay about the area, clearly planning to replace the creature. Looking at the stone, Dante expected to feel pity but the hateful glare the rock shot him gave him pause. Before too long they arrived at a grand gateway. The house could be seen beyond, twice as large as its neighbours and lavishly decorated. Two men stood at attention, dressed in house colours. They wore matching helmets that gleamed in the moonlight. Other houses on this street also had guards but many of them seemed drowsy or as if they wished to join the revellers. Not so these two, they were professional, with straight backs and eyes locked ahead. Sqwent warned him when they drew close, ¡°they¡¯re veterans, levels somewhere in the forties, don¡¯t try anything.¡± When Dante came within ten feet exactly they moved in unison, crossing their pikes. ¡°Halt!¡± the leftmost man ordered. ¡°For what reason do you approach the Ghibellines¡¯ estate?¡± That name, Dante knew it. It was his name, the System had told him when he first woke up. ¡°I am Dante Ghibellines?¡± he tried, unsure. The guard''s stoney facade broke slightly at that. When he looked at Dante¡¯s torn and bloody garb, scepticism tinged his features yet he did not say anything out of respect for the family. His brain clearly worked overtime, seeking a solution that did not affect the Ghibellines family if Dante were telling the truth, however unlikely that may be. The man''s tone had never been unfriendly, just stern but his next words were said with much decorum. ¡°I am afraid this lowly armsman of the Ghibellines family does not recognise his lordship, perhaps he is from a different branch. Would his lordship consent to the use of the Identify skill to verify his lordship''s identity.¡± Despite his doubt in Dante¡¯s claim, he appeared to half expect a tirade for his impermanence. Dante was about to agree to the condition when Sqwent stopped him. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, if his skill is high enough, he¡¯ll discover you¡¯re a Revenant,¡± he said. Dante froze at that, gradually he backed away from the guards. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I just remembered, I have something to do. Good day,¡± Dante spoke aloud. The right hand man seemed to smirk at Dante¡¯s retreat, though it was well concealed. Once he had backed far enough down the street he spoke to Sqwent. ¡°What do we do now?¡± Dante asked. ¡°If you want to locate this woman, you¡¯ll have to find another way in,¡± Sqwent replied simply. The next hour was spent circling the walls that demarcated the Ghibellines¡¯ estate. There was another guarded entrance on the other side of the grounds, passing straight into an inner city park. All around the wall was too high to climb and any tree that came too near was judiciously pruned. Dante had just about given up, when Sqwent noticed something. One side of the estate abutted a river, it was still walled solidly, but they hadn¡¯t been able to get close as it was right on the bank of the river. ¡°There''s something there,¡± Sqwent said, pointing Dante¡¯s hand at a spot in the water, beneath the walls. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked, not liking where this was going. ¡°It feels like illusion magic, just there, that boulder beneath the surface is a fake,¡± Sqwent explained. Dante groaned internally, but surrendered himself to what must be done. The water on the edge was shallow; beneath it, a foot of stinking mud. What¡¯s more, Dante had to move slowly and quietly so as not to alert the guards stationed on the Ghibellines¡¯ dock, three hundred feet ahead. Squelch, squish, slurp. Coming to the rock, about the size of his torso and half submerged, Dante reached out gently. Where finger should have met stone, it insead met air. His digit passed straight through the illusion without even a ripple. ¡°Well cast,¡± Sqwent admitted. Sticking his head through the illusion, Dante found the grated entrance to a Stone Shaped pipe. ¡°How are we supposed to get through here?¡± Dante asked. ¡°Give me control, just for a moment,¡± Sqwent insisted. Dante hesitated but relented, he had come this far. Sqwent possessed the Bard¡¯s body, his nails sharpening to claws and his eyes glowing red. He drew close to the rusted metal and breathed in. When he exhaled a thin stream of fire came out, to Dante¡¯s surprise. Sqwent went to each bar in turn, melting it away where it met the stone. He yanked the pipe free with a ringing sound. Dante seized back control and shot into the pipe to avoid the guards notice. When his heart stopped figuratively pounding, he used his Dark Vision to peer into the pipe. There was dirt and grime but this appeared to be used for nothing more than waste water, thankfully. Climbing up the slippery slope proved a challenge, one that required a partial possession to resolve. Sqwent had offered to take over but Dante only allowed him use of his fingertips; giving them claws. He was passing a maintenance hatch when Sqwent told Dante he recognized a familiar mana signature. Slowly Dante opened the hatch. On the other side they found a room, filled with magical sensors - reading flow rate, volume, and the like. Passing through quickly, he crept to the door. Opening it silently and looking to the right; dark, and no one in sight. Stepped out, into the corridor he whipped from behind. Clutching his stinging back, he spun. What he saw surprised him, a woman dressed in black with pale skin, wielding a whip made of blood. He recognized her, she was the bossy woman from the fort who always creeped him out, Alma. Chapter 28: Alma Again Chapter 28: Alma Again After her failure at the fort, she returned to her mistress. Camille was kind and understanding but Alma couldn¡¯t stop beating herself up over the loss, she hadn''t even tried. She waited for a while with Camille to observe Orlando. He arrived at the fort, decked out in shining golden armour, no doubt bought with gold extorted from common folk. He strutted about the place with the confidence of someone who¡¯d never seen the realities of life. When they discovered the undead gone, she expected Orlando to leave in a huff, disappointed he wasn¡¯t able to show off his skills to his lackeys. She was surprised then, when he remained, to bury the dead, even going so far as to get down in the dirt with his men and dig. He prayed over everyone, including those which had become undead. Alma was conflicted when Camille broke the raven connection that had formed an image on the scrying bowl. He was not what she had expected from a Paladin of light. Several days later, her mistress received a summons from one of the main Ghibellines¡¯ branches; she was in trouble because of Alma¡¯s failure. Despite the constant apologies, Camille insisted Alma did nothing wrong. Alma eventually convinced Camillie that she, her apprentice, should accompany her Mistress to Wiccawich, where a high ranking Ghibellines vampire had asked to meet. They flew, using Camille¡¯s flying coffin as Alma had not yet unlocked the Bat Transformation Skill. Her mistress was outwardly calm but Alma could tell there was tension as they met with her superior. Thankfully, the tall vampire, who walked with the grace of a predator, didn''t even notice her, as he and her mistress departed to talk alone. Alma was guided by another relatively new vampire, they went through a series of hidden tunnels to enter the city lair. Directly beneath the ??Ghibellines¡¯ estate, unbeknownst to any living member of the family. She had been left in a room with plain, but well made, furniture. Her every need was provided for, blood brought on request, pillows plumped, all the books she wanted. But she remained, essentially, a prisoner. Despite it having been days, and having asked her well dressed jailers several times, she knew not her mistresses¡¯ fate and her nerves were beginning to fray. She was permitted to wander the complex, no one had said she couldn¡¯t leave but she knew the doors leading to the outside world were locked at all times, and the inhabitants, few though they may be, kept their guards up around her. She was afraid what the answer might be if she chose to ask so she left the question unspoken; remaining , to her mind, free. She was wandering the corridors, when something strange happened. In a corner of the lair rarely frequented, there was a strange man. He was dressed in what might have once been nice clothes, complete with colourful frills. She could tell he was not alive but neither was he a vampire, there was still blood in his veins. A zombie here of all places? He was clearly an intruder, having snuck into the hall; crouched and believed to be unseen. A smile tugged at her lips, finally someone interesting. She sought to gain his attention so summoned a Blood Whip and struck him lightly. The face that turned to meet hers was a shock to them both, the face of a very familiar revenant. ? Dante turned to see Alma. Struck dumb for a moment, he only stared, wide-eyed, rubbing his stinging back. ¡°How are you alive?¡± Alma asked, panic lending edge to her voice, expression overtaken by a mask of cruelty. ¡°I¡¯m not?¡± Dante replied, stupidly. ¡°That monster, are you bound to it? Is it here?!¡± she demanded. ¡°Did you befriend it¡­ not the worst idea.¡± ¡°What? Osseus you mean?¡± Dante asked, recovering some of his wits. He continued at her look of Duh. ¡°He¡¯s in the city somewhere, where I cannot say,¡± he replied not understanding this lady''s anger, he wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she were mad at his intrusion, but that seemed not to be the case. After a humph of reluctant acceptance from Alma there proceeded an awkward silence, the woman stood eyeing him with the Spell still active. Having been raised with good manners Dante straightened and decided to reintroduce himself. Extending a hand he offered, ¡°Dante.¡± She slapped the proffered limb aside before saying: Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Yes I know who you are, you¡¯re that idiot Bard from Far-Reach. What in the name of Snata¡¯s arse are you doing here?¡± ¡°Well, I was looking for someone. Someone connected to me somehow, and having learned the name of this estate I believe my hunch to be right,¡± Dante responded, still eyeing the Blood Whip, one hand on his back. Seeing his expression, she dismissed the spell; moving the blood into a flask and muttering something about, ¡°just a bit of fun.¡± ¡°How did you get in, I¡¯ve looked in there, there¡¯s nothing but brooms and controls for the water system,¡± she said in an authoritative tone. ¡°There¡¯s a hatch in the big pipe,¡± he explained, gesturing back to the room. However, when they looked inside the pipe had no hatch. ¡°Where?¡± Alma demanded, anger clear on her features. ¡°Are you teasing?¡± ¡°I swear it was right there,¡± Dante began, puzzled. ¡°There''s another illusion,¡± Sqwent explained tiredly, ¡°you didn¡¯t see it because we came from the otherside.¡± ¡°Ahh,¡± Danted exclaimed, before plunging his hand through solid stone. ¡°What?¡± Alma asked, surprise overtaking her rage for a moment. ¡°And this leads?¡± ¡°Down by the river.¡± Dante answered distractedly, ¡°I must say you don¡¯t seem terribly upset at me for breaking in.¡± She scoffed, her head in the pipe, ¡°do I look like a Ghibellines to you?¡± ¡°Do I?¡± Dante responded honestly. ¡°Exactly, people of that station don¡¯t wear plain black dresses, and they aren''t locked in the basement,¡± she answered, climbing into the pipe. ¡°Wait, you''re a prisoner?¡± Dante asked, concerned. ¡°Yes¡­ No¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± Alma answered, frustrated. ¡°All I do know is I¡¯m not spending another day down here.¡± ¡°No, wait, you can¡¯t leave,¡± Dante replied, slightly panicked. ¡°Why?¡± she asked, already doing just that. ¡°I have to find someone here, I told you, I need to talk to them,¡± he said, waving his hands about. ¡°And; is that my problem?¡± she asked. ¡°Just out of curiosity, your plan for speaking to someone in the Ghibellines house, was breaking in and¡­ what? Hoping they don¡¯t call the guard. Hope they hear you out and don¡¯t assume you a criminal? Which you would be,¡± she stated, laughing at the last. ¡°Well I don¡¯t...¡± Dante floundered. ¡°What was the plan?¡± Dante asked Sqwent internally. ¡°I just wanted to see something interesting,¡± he shrugged, without shoulders. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Dante finished aloud, lamely. Alma smirked briefly before turning back to escape. ¡°Wait,¡± he asked again, this time following her. ¡°How do I meet a Ghibellines then?¡± Dante asked as they crawled, single-file, back down the slippery passage. ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± Alma said coldly. After the silence had dragged on she added, ¡°but if you had to, they are known for hosting a grand ball in Wiccawich. They even invite the common folk but they are kept separate. At least you¡¯d be able to get into the house without getting thrown in jail¡­ assuming that you got some better clothes.¡± Dante thought about it for some time before asking: ¡°When is this ball?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯ve been locked away in a cellar,¡± she snapped. ¡°But it¡¯s this season sometime, could be a week, could be a day,¡± she relented. When they emerged back into the night, Dante¡¯s exuberance for discovering more of himself somewhat dampened, they walked quickly to the bank. Back in the park, Alma called down an owl; whispering something to it. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Dante asked, unfamiliar with the language of birds. She finished her conversation before replying, ¡°If you must know, I''m sending word to my mistress, telling her I¡¯m alright - assuming she is as well,¡± she said, adding the last under her breath. She raised her arm, encouraging the creature to take flight. They watched the bird as it soared up majestically, only to be plucked from the air by a wind spell, to the surprise of all three of them. ¡°Shit!¡± Alma exclaimed. ¡°They¡¯re onto us!¡± Chapter 29: Misadventurer Chapter 29: Misadventurer Alma grabbed Dante¡¯s hand, leading him quickly out of the park and into the maze of alleyways that was Wiccawich. It caused an odd reaction in him, despite his deathly constitution his cheeks reddened and his hand began to sweat. Sqwent snickered. The ¡®reaction¡¯ was not ¡®odd¡¯ on its surface, as Alma was perfectly attractive, her raven black hair framed pale angular features. No, what made it ¡®odd¡¯ was that, in totality, he thought very little of her, or at least he thought he thought he did. When Dante met her in Far-Reach she was Pater¡¯s right hand woman. Although she didn¡¯t speak much, any command given to the Zombies was followed immediately. She was integral to the slaughter of the innocent inhabitants of the fort, perhaps including himself. And yet, seeing her beneath the Ghibellines¡¯ he had felt sorry for her, despite her brusk and harsh demeanour he could see something more. This sympathy was not so easily quashed by his undead nature. They sped through curving streets and around unpredictable obstacles. Alma fled as if chased, but Dante hadn¡¯t seen any sign of being followed. Eventually, they came to rest in an alcove, carved from the side of a house and possessing a bench protected from the weather. ¡°I think we¡¯re safe,¡± Alma declared, flustered, but unable to be out of breath. ¡°Why are you so wanted?¡± Dante asked, ¡°I thought you were some low level undead, serving Pater.¡± ¡°Ha,¡± she said dryly, ¡°I might not compare to that friend of yours but I am decently levelled and well trained.¡± Dante was about to inquire further, when they heard the sound of voices around a corner, Alma hushed him as she crept to the edge of the wall. ¡°The bats want to meet in the regular spot,¡± one voice spoke, in a circumspect manner. ¡°What?¡± a rather haughty voice replied, clearly not understanding and offended at the fact. Dante, intrigued, stuck his head about the bend - rubbernecking. In the mostly empty street, save for a few drunken stumblers, was a man in white and gold, flanked by two well armed and armoured men. One of which was holding a drunkard off the ground by the scruff of the neck. ¡°I am saying that the Bats want to meet¡­ with gold,¡± another man, dressed in a black robe, hissed - trying again. His features were completely covered but Dante knew at a glance he wasn¡¯t living. As he spoke, he was eyeing the flailing drunkard. The holy man noticed and at a sign from him the bodyguard knocked the drunk unconscious. Anyone else out on the street made themself scarce at the sight. ¡°Don¡¯t speak in riddles, tell me plainly!¡± the priest demanded. The other man took a moment to look about so Dante and Alma retreated their heads. He then leaned in and whispered something too quiet for either of them to hear. They popped their heads back out to see the white clad man grinning and nodding. The cowled man turned to leave, thought of something, then turned back. ¡°You will, of course, also receive a personal invitation to the Ghibellines¡¯ ball tomorrow night, as thanks for you - and your church''s - work. It has already been delivered to your quarters,¡± he said, and Dante could catch the edge of a sharp toothed smile. The priestly man chuckled quietly to himself as the pair once more retreated. ¡°What was that?¡± Dante asked Alma, who was staring off in thought. She took a moment but then a devilish grin alighted on her face. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°You need to get into that ball. So do I, if I want to see my mistress. Who better to take the tickets from than a corrupt priest working with vampires,¡± Alma said, gaining momentum with each word. ¡°How do you know they are vampires?¡± Dante asked. ¡°Really?¡± she asked, gesturing to herself. ¡°If that wasn¡¯t enough he¡¯s clearly working with the Ghibellines.¡± ¡°The Ghibellines are vampires?¡± he asked, trying to hide his disappointment. ¡°Obviously not all of them, the living members hold the power in the light while the unliving reinforce it in the darkness. Unum esse in tenebris oportet videre lucem is their motto. My mistress said, "Only one in darkness can see the light, or some such nonsense.¡± Alma said, not failing to notice the colour returning to Dante¡¯s eyes. Before her curiosity could get the better of her, the sound of armoured men tromping towards them stole her focus. They were only feet away, if they thought she was spying she didn¡¯t know what they might do. Deep down, a part of her still feared the church. Thinking quickly she grasped Dante bodily and slammed him against the wall. ¡°It¡¯s only a couple of young love birds your holiness,¡± a gruff voice relayed as it rounded the corner. Its master followed. ¡°Public indecency!¡± the priest shireeked, instructed his men to pull the couple apart. ¡°You clearly haven¡¯t attended enough sermons,¡± he chastised each of them. Dante looked down at the ground, red faced but Alma stood firm. Once the priest''s tirade ended, his mood flipped on a copper. ¡°Ah but I am most graciously willing to pray for your forgiveness, on an unrelated note; I am sure some rehabilitated luminaries, such as yourselves, are wanting to donate to the church,¡± he said, retrieving a hefty purse. Shaking it, he encouraged, ¡°for the orphans?¡± Dante saw that Alma was about to explode and, overcoming his embarrassment, he laid an arm on her shoulder. She shot daggers at him; he had to work hard to stop himself from shrinking away. Seeing the exchange the priest added: ¡°Of course, I may forget to pray for you and anything could happen to someone out in the city at night without the protection of the holy Light.¡± At his cue, the two thugs thumped fists into palms in a practised, menacing gesture. ¡°I have one silver,¡± Dante said, trying to defuse the situation. One of the armsmen took it without hesitation and placed it in the purse. The priest smiled at that, and turned to Alma, shaking the offertory. She stared at him so intensely that Dante could have sworn he saw unease flash across the confident extortionist''s face, but eventually, Alma withdrew a silver and slammed it violently into the purse, never breaking eye contact. The priest grinned wickedly. ¡°Thank you for your donation,¡± he said and then left, marching down the street. Dante shot a look, containing a jumbled mix of emotions at Alma; when the trio were out of earshot. ¡°What?¡± she asked defensively. They gave it some time, but eventually they resolved to follow the Light-hole, at a distance. Ducking behind barrels and skirting corners they were able to watch the priest as he undertook his nightly rounds, extorting and cajoling. His temperament seemed vastly different, depending on whom he was addressing. If he ever met another member of the church or an official he was politically polite and underhandedly understanding; offering to help one drunk councilman home without a copper. He spent the time joking and laughing with the man. When the moon set, around 1 in the morning, and most folk seemed to be retreating to their homes: the priest tiredly gave up the hunt and headed towards the massive temple that dominated the skyline. The district in which the temple, and adjoining campus, were located, was covered in plenty of greenery and walled off. Dante and Alma watched from a rooftop outside the compound as the priest retired to one of the larger rooms. They spent some time discussing how they might get in, when Alma took the lead. Approaching a gated footpath that entered the complex the pair came across one guard. Dante was surprised to see Alma¡¯s Blood Control Skill puppet the man. He was clearly struggling, but before he could break free, she took the man''s own cudgel and knocked him out flat, hiding his unconscious body in some bushes. Dante was feeling tense and uncomfortable with the situation so when a voice broke the silence, he jumped. ¡°What in the name of all that is Light are you doing,¡± hissed a woman''s voice from behind the pair. Dante froze and turned. Alma summoned a Blood Whip. Chapter 30: The Church of Light Chapter 30: The Church of Light ¡°The Church of Light, sometimes referred to as the Church due to its size, is perhaps the most prevalent religion on the continent. During the formation of the sentient races, the world was filled with monsters. They lurked, hunting in the darkness. The first priest of Light is said to be a human, who prayed for something to protect their race, at least for a time, from the creatures which skulk in shadow. This account may be false as it is perpetuated by the more zenophobic aspects of the church and is disputed by other religions, namely the Church of Mana which believes that all gods are subservient to the innate will of magic.¡± ¨C Account from a thesis on The Efficacy of Religion in a Modern Society by Minalan Mancour. ? ¡°Wait, don''t hurt me,¡± the woman wailed at the sight of the weapon. Alma tried to use Blood Puppet again but it was blocked by a shimmering, translucent golden shield. The candescents illuminated the woman''s long golden hair. She covered her short body with her arms, clearly not summoning the shield on purpose. ¡°Wait,¡± Dante said, halting Alma as she prepared to attack. ¡°I¡¯m sure this young acolyte will not stop us, if she hears why we have come.¡± Dante winked, out of the women''s line of sight. Seeing that she wasn¡¯t currently being assaulted, the stranger lowered her arms and looked between the pair warily. ¡°What possible reason could you give that would excuse this! Breaking into the church ground is one thing but attacking a holy guard, unprovoked, is sacrilege,¡± she began, amping up for a poorly practised lecture. She stumbled on her words, belying her inexperience. ¡°Miss, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll understand once you hear the truth,¡± Dante began, approaching slowly. ¡°In fact I know you will, on my word as a friend of the Paladin, Orlando Roncevaux and my name, Dante Ghibellines.¡± He finished with a flourishing bow. This proclamation received a wide range of reactions. The newcomer was at first confused, yet relaxed at the mention of Orlando. Dante couldn¡¯t see Alma tense up at the mention of the Paladin and prepare to strike him with her whip. Fortunately, he wasn¡¯t taken unawares as the second revelation caused both women to cry out in surprise. Unfortunately, the commotion had caused another young acolyte to open his bedroom curtains and see the affair. Being on the ground floor, the tall dark-skinned elf jumped forth without hesitation. He ran the hundred yards at a blistering pace chanting a litany as he approached. His hand began to glow, brighter and brighter, with the light of the sun, focused on Dante. The Bard squealed, imbuing the sound with his Fighting Words Skill in panic. This enraged the teenager and caused his calculated charge to turn into that of a raging bull. Not even the fair haired woman was able to stop him, once she had snapped out of her shock. On the plus side, he had lost all concentration on the holy spell that would no doubt have killed an undead like Dante. Desperate, he looked around for something to hide behind, but Alma had wisely stepped away. So he was left to duck and dive about the woman''s golden shield as the elf shouted invectives, his veins bulging and his eyes white. Dante wasn¡¯t able to keep up the act forever however and he was eventually tackled to the ground by the frothing zealot. Dante guarded his head from the oncoming blows but they never landed. Looking up, his attacker was frozen solid, straining to lower his fists. Out of the corner of his eye Dante could make out Alma struggling to hold onto her spell. The Golden haired teen looked between the pair, hestating, clearly not wanting to hurt either. She floundered about for a moment, but at Alma¡¯s goading she finally acted: ¡°Light, let all life live in luscious leas and lovely lakes. Lay thy livid nature to rest. Calm,¡± she chanted, placing a glowing hand on each of them. Her blue eyes glowed with a golden light for a second before the divine spell took effect. The elf relaxed, slowly looking around at the situation. Dante was forced to hold back screams as the holy mana coursed through him. To his great relief, Alma took the attention, allowing him to roll face down, and cover his streaming tears. ¡°There is a priest with white and gold robes that the Paladin has assigned us to look into,¡± she said, deciding to play into the identity of such an influential figure. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°What are you on about?¡± the dark elf ejaculated, trying to work himself up but remaining frustratingly calm. ¡°I see one of our guards knocked out and Delphine has her shield up. You expect me to believe you''re on our side,¡± he ended in a neutral tone. ¡°James,¡± Delphine began tentatively, ¡°I think she¡¯s telling the truth.¡± She then described the few actions that had occurred before his arrival. ¡°Before we continue, I think we should talk somewhere quieter,¡± Alma interjected, before James could begin his interrogation. ¡°Fine,¡± the elf relented, ¡°We can talk in my dorm room, it¡¯s small but there''s only me there. ¡°I¡¯m not allowed in the boy¡¯s dorms,¡± Delphine murmured but wasn¡¯t heard. Alma heaved the groaning Dante over her shoulder. When they came to the open window, she tossed him in like a sack of grain. Thump. She looked back at the uncertain woman and gestured with her thumb. Crowded in a cell, which contained nothing but a tired cot and a trunk full of robes, they attended to their conversation. James shut the curtains behind him and turned to Alma, glancing briefly at the form of Dante - who was cradling his injured nose. ¡°Now, What the hell are you doing here?¡± he hissed. ¡°I told you, Orlando said we should investigate a priest here,¡± Alma lied, not even attempting the Paladin¡¯s last name. He had intended to protest the issue but was stopped by a nod from Delphine. Obviously, she believed the claim. ¡°Why would he send outsiders to look into what is, evidently, an ecumenical matter,¡± James insisted. ¡°Why would he send a member of the clergy to investigate the church?¡± Alma retorted, sharply. Dante managed to get to his feet, with Delphine¡¯s silent help, as the two argued. ¡°Fine, say I do believe you, which I do not, name a single member of this chapter that is worthy of investigation,¡± James persisted, stubbornly - heat slowly returning to his voice and features as the Calm spell began to wane. ¡°Ahh, I don¡¯t know his name, but he wears bright white robes dripping with gold, ¡± Dante interrupted, with his nose stuffed by a handkerchief. Both turned withering glares on him. ¡°Err..¡± he stammered. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Alma verified, reluctantly. ¡°I knew it, this is a scam,¡± James declared, pointing at the pair of them. ¡°We told you what he wears,¡± Alma retorted. ¡°Pff, you described half the church.¡± ¡°We also know that he travels the city with two bodyguards,¡± Alma added. At this James¡¯ face tightened and screwed up. Delphine gave him a knowing look before speaking. ¡°That can only be Iago,¡± she said softly. ¡°No!¡± James fired back, now back in control of his anger. ¡°It can¡¯t be. He, and he alone, has the bravery to walk the streets at night and guide those who ¡®skulk in shadows¡¯.¡± ¡°There have been rumours,¡± Delphine tried, but James would have none of it. ¡°Impossible, he conducts sermons for the lord and takes his confession. There is a reason he is called Iago the honest,¡± James reasoned, growing more confident in his position. ¡°You shall have to join us in serveiling him,¡± Dante proposed, having gotten carried away in the lie. Alma growled at him and looked ready to start a fight then and there. Dante meant to go to her and calm her but slipped on bedding that had been strewn across the floor; smacking his nose into the Trunk. This seemed to raise Alma¡¯s spirits as she smirked. ¡°Fine,¡± she eventually said, turning her growl into a cough. ¡°It might be easier if we had some help from within the church. That way, we won¡¯t have to go round knocking out guardsmen.¡± James and Delphine took an aside to confer, whilst Alma bent to help Dante back to his feet. With her lips to his ear she whispered, ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ve forgotten what you claimed your name to be. We¡¯ll talk about how stupid that was later.¡± Dante could only sputter out blood in response, which seemed to please the bloodthirsty woman. ¡°We have agreed, temporarily, to help you,¡± James announced through gritted teeth. ¡°Until it is discovered that this is all a hoax and you are slandering the good priest¡¯s name - at which time I¡¯ll be happy to hand you to the holy headswoman personally.¡± He said with a smile, only to receive an elbow from the shorter woman. ¡°We should wait till the morning. If you need to observe his comings and goings, you¡¯ll have to wait till he¡¯s awake,¡± she added. ¡°Better to work by the holy light,¡± he amended. ¡°We shall need to see his papers,¡± Alma said, thinking quickly. ¡°It would be easier to sneak into his rooms at night.¡± ¡°I think not,¡± Delpine said, with a snorting laugh. ¡°I¡¯m sorry but this place is locked up as tight as a drum at night, every corridor is patrolled. They don¡¯t want the rich kids, the third sons or daughters that have been forced into priesthood, to run away.¡± The declaration earned her a strange look from James. She looked away, realising she may have said too much. Thinking ahead, James dressed the newcomers in acolyte''s robes. His thought proved to be wise as, when the alarm was raised, they were chastised for being in the same room after hours - the girls were sent back to their dorm. Dante was permitted to stay the night in James'' room, upon his explanation that he was newly sent and had not yet been assigned a cell. Dante could only hope Alma was permitted the same recourse. Left with no option, Dante had to wait out the night, till the death of daylight. Chapter 31: Undeath by Daylight Chapter 31: Undeath by Daylight Alma had secretly palmed something to Dante before leaving, she wasn¡¯t able to explain what it was, but it appeared to be a ring. A thick band of silver, with a number of curious engravings and set with a large blue stone. Not knowing what to do with it, he slipped it on before pondering. He lay on the floor, on a borrowed blanket. James had begun to snore - even if Dante could sleep, he wouldn¡¯t. Wait, could he sleep? He was undead, yet different. Being a revenant meant his body functioned mostly as normal. He could bleed, he could breathe, and he could defecate. But he had never felt a need to sleep. Now wasn''t the time to ponder such things, he was in dire straits - locked in a room, surrounded by holy men and women. What was worse, he couldn¡¯t slip out the window as they increased guard after the alarm. Thankfully, from what he could gather, their victim had only seen one person attack and couldn¡¯t describe them, owing to the darkness. Dante tossed and turned, unable to see an escape. Perhaps he could hide himself away in a trunk. James got up wearily, he had done so once already to use the chamber pot so Dante gave it no mind. ¡®Alma clearly had a plan, she didn¡¯t seem worried in the least,¡¯ he thought, spinning the ring about his finger nervously. He had gone back and forth on this point a number of times. There was the sound of wood scraping against wood but Dante didn¡¯t have time for it. He turned over again and examined the ring by the new light. He couldn¡¯t understand any of the writing. ¡°That''s a fancy enchanted ring,¡± James remarked, from next to the open curtain. ¡°Errr¡­¡± was all Dante could make out. He looked out at the rising sun for the first time in his unlife and only then did he realise something was wrong. Before, sunlight had rendered his flesh truely dead and left him with a spiking, tingling pain. Dante sputtered but nothing came out. His gaze was transfixed on the orb of fire. The Church campus was set on a hill and had low walls in the east, affording them an unparalleled view of the sun. ¡°Come on,¡± James prodded, ¡°Anyone would think you haven¡¯t seen it before.¡± He was clearly in higher spirits than last night. ¡°We used to watch it rise over the orange fields,¡± Dante said absently, a single tear coming unbidden down his cheek. The memory was there for an instant but fled before Dante thought to catch it. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t stare into the sun, it''s not good for you,¡± James remarked, seeing the watering eyes. ¡°Yeah,¡± Dante replied distantly, beginning a habit of morning ablutions he didn¡¯t know he had. ¡°Should I hide in here today?¡± Dante asked James. ¡°Definitely not,¡± he replied. ¡°I know the castalin believed our story last night, but won¡¯t someone notice a stranger wandering about?¡± ¡°Hundreds of people come and go from Wiccawich Church. Some stay here just a few days before being sent to any number of towns and villages. Not to mention, you arrived just when we got a new batch of trainees. And you won¡¯t be wandering, there is a strict routine around here. If we really must investigate Iago, we¡¯ll have to do it in our free time. Now come on, or we¡¯ll be late for morning prayer.¡± Dante was hesitant at the proposal, this enchanted ring might protect him from sunlight but it surely wouldn¡¯t save him from such a conglomeration of faithful worshipers, he didn¡¯t want to be noticed by the holy Light. He needed to find Alma. ¡°Do we all pray together?¡± Dante asked. ¡°Of course, in the main cathedral,¡± James replied, scrubbing his face. Dante needed an escape. They left their cell, entering an equally austere wing of the dorms. Furniture, lacking and plain. Other Acolytes moved quickly and quietly through the corridors, toward the exit. One might have expected a cacophony of chatting from such a large number of young folk, but the early hour and stern gazes of the older chaperones precluded it. They were filed out of the living quarters and into a courtyard, where he could see another line of female acolytes coming from the other wing. Dante searched desperately for Alma but couldn¡¯t see her. He looked for a way out but they were flanked by a number of older church members, eager to punish any transgression. He saw the line ahead enter the cathedral and could feel the burning from here. If he entered, there would be no coming out. Just as he was about to despair, he tripped and smacked his tender nose for a third time. There was a chorus of giggles from the mixed crowd around him and some little concern. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Oh no, you''re bleeding,¡± a familiar voice said, with a level of compassion he¡¯d never thought it could possess. Dante felt at his nose and found that it was, in fact, dry. ¡°No I¡¯m not¡­¡± he began. A swift and stealthy kick, disguised as a concerned party stepping closer, soon remedied the matter. By this time an elderly woman had approached. ¡°Let me see, let me see,¡± she said, bustling through the children. Dante looked up at her through watering eyes as she turned his face from left to right. ¡°Definitely broken, you¡¯ll have to see the nurse,¡± she declared. ¡°It¡¯s my fault he fell, I feel so bad, please let me help him,¡± Alma said, with the perfect imitation of a kind and honest girl. ¡°They¡¯re both new, I think I should show them where to go,¡± James butted in. ¡°And me,¡± Delphine added quickly. The elderly woman was about to reject James'' assertion but softened at the young woman¡¯s plea. ¡°Fine then,¡± she eventually said, ¡°But be quick.¡± She looked about at the gawkers, ¡°What are you looking at, there¡¯s nothing to see here.¡± Reluctantly, the crowd returned to its silent, sombre march. Dante was led blearily through stone corridors and down steps, to his disappointment, they didn¡¯t actually make it to a nurse¡¯s office as his nose was bruised and mangled beyond recognition at this point. He half heard the conversation between the three, as they sat him down in a broom closet. Taking pity on the injured Bard, Alma used Blood Healing on his nose. The effect was immediate, the grotesque mass of flesh returned to pristine condition, before spitting blood from its every pore. Once it was wiped away he again, whole. ¡°We have an hour,¡± James said, stubbornly. "Everyone will be in prayer, including the guards, so snooping around an innocent man''s chambers should be easy.¡± ¡°Everyone remembers the escape routes and excuses?¡± Alma asked, ignoring Dantes confused expression. Not knowing how to ask, Dante just went along with the others. They found themselves in a much richer part of the accommodations. Apparently, while the lower ranking members of the church were expected to live humbly in accordance with the tenets of their religion, the more established members were free to indulge in life''s luxuries. Even the two acolytes hadn¡¯t been here before - they were just as surprised to see the wine fountain and solid gold chandeliers. ¡°This should be the room,¡± Alma announced, standing before an oak door, covered in decorated raw hide and with the name Iago Iscariot emblazoned in gold lettering. ¡°He¡¯s done a lot for the community, this is just their way of thanking him,¡± James said defensively upon seeing the decadence. Alma opened the door into a richly appointed receiving chamber. Plush, red velvet chairs with gilded arms and legs lined the room. Paintings of exquisite scenery decorated the walls. The floor was marble with a highly patterned carpet at its centre. ¡°He has to receive nobles, they expect this sort of thing,¡± James explained, more to himself as no one else had said a word. Alma, unaffected by the splendour, marched on to the door at the end of the room. It was locked. She looked about to strike it when Dante stopped her. Pulling from his sleeve, a couple of thin stretches of metal, he had the mechanism sprung in a matter of seconds. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had the lockpicking Skill,¡± Alma said, almost proud. ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Dante replied cryptically. ¡°Thief,¡± James murmured, pushing past and into the chamber. At a look from Delphine he said no more. The room they found themselves in was equally well furnished. A livingroom of some sort with plenty of places to meet and discuss. Alma swiped a solid gold duck when only Dante was looking - when it seemed he might protest, she stared him into submission. After a number of doors were opened, the study was discovered. Delphine made sure to shut the doors behind them so that no one might spy them from the hall. James stood back and watched with his arms crossed. ¡°I promise you won¡¯t find anything amiss here,¡± he proclaimed, gesturing to the desk. ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± Alma retorted. Delphine dithered between them, not sure what to do. Throwing open the drawers there was nothing at first, just logistics. They claimed to be the financial records for the support of several orphanages, and grain for the homeless. Alma knew better, it didn¡¯t take long for her to spot discrepancies in the records, as she expected the majority of the coin was being had by people like Iago. ¡®This should be enough evidence to shut up those two snot-nose brats, that had been following me,¡¯ she thought. It wasn''t, however, what she was here for. The top draw was locked and she called over Dante to open it. Inside she found a weight of coin, a number of invitations, and calling cards the priest had received. She was rifling through for the one she sought, when a sound came from the waiting room. ¡°I tell you, there¡¯s nothing there, no one would dare enter my chambers without permission,¡± the voice of Iago floated through. ¡°But Sir, the Life Sense talisman was triggered,¡± a gruff man replied. ¡°And that¡¯s why I left morning prayer to investigate. Do you know the damage that might do to my reputation? You better hope there¡¯s at least a rat or some such.¡± Then came the sound of a key in the lock, turned first one way then another. ¡°Strange, I could have sworn I locked up before I left.¡± Desperately seeking a place to hide, Dante shot towards a nearby fireplace. His Leg caught on something before he could get there. A click followed and something surprising happened. Chapter 32: What Lies Beneath II Chapter 32: What lies beneath II Alma saw Dante¡¯s panicked dash for the fireplace - of all things - and expected - when he caught his foot on the companion set, (the tongs, poker, brush, and shovel) - that she would be treated to yet another nose dive. Honestly, the satisfaction had waned and she was beginning to feel sorry for the lad. Instead of the sound of cartilage on stone and the sight of spraying blood, something surprising happened. The tool hanger shifted smoothly, as if oiled. Soot sprung from about the fireplace. An almost silent mechanism sprung to life. One moment Dante was stumbling head first into a fireplace, the next he was gone. ¡°Dante?¡± Delphine asked, concern evident in her whisper. The sound of armoured feet entered the main chamber. ¡°See, no one here,¡± Iago declared. ¡°We really should check all the rooms,¡± his bodyguard said. ¡°Very well then, but be quick,¡± said Iago, impatiently. A shuffling sound could be heard from the fire. ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± called Dante. He was responded to by a chorus of shhh. ¡°What was that?¡± Iago asked. ¡°I think it came from the study,¡± the thug remarked. Footsteps grew closer. Delphine began breathing overly much. James¡¯ face seemed carved from granite as he thought furiously. Alma acted. The mechanism had moved too fast to see but she was sure of its function. She grabbed the other two. A hand was placed on the door. She wrestled them into place. The knob turned. She kicked the stand. The door opened. ¡°Nothing,¡± Iago declared, examining the room. ¡°What about the hidden chamber?¡± the guardsman asked. ¡°Hush,¡± Iago chastised, striking him with some papers. ¡°You¡¯ve been told not to speak of that. Besides, you see that mark? The one right there. It is only on this side of the fireplace, if it had been flipped - we would see. Now come quickly, we''ve been gone too long as it is.¡± Iago proceeded to bustle back out. His man was slower in coming. He took a moment to examine the room. The drawers were open but that wasn¡¯t unusual. His master was a messy man. Achoo came a muffled sneeze. It didn¡¯t sound like much from the man''s position however. He looked up the chimney. ¡°Must have been the wind,¡± he murmured to himself. ¡°Come along,¡± Iago called back impatiently. The man sprinted after his boss. The quartet held their breath for a moment, before the sound of key-in-lock, once more, rang out. Dante looked round. The room they found themselves in was small, just six feet by six. It didn¡¯t see the attention of the maidly acolytes so dust had built up. There were four chests, not so large. Paintings were sat, leaned against the wall, covered by cloth. Weapons were scabbarded and propped up haphazard. Old furniture and jewellery spilled across the floor. ¡°If this isn¡¯t that bastard''s hoard then my names not Maple,¡± Alma declared, her eyes lighting up as she stared around at the wealth. ¡°But your name¡¯s not¡­¡± Dante began. ¡°You can¡¯t call his Holiness a ¡®bastard¡¯,¡± James spluttered indignantly. ¡°Then how do you explain this?¡± Alma asked, swirling around, overcome by the fervour of greed. ¡°These could be church relics, left in his care.¡± ¡°Really?¡± she asked, uncovering a painting of a naked woman lounging on a chaise lounge. Delphine blushed. ¡°Tastes change,¡± James tried, but his heart wasn¡¯t in it. ¡°Dante, get over here and unlock this chest,¡± Alma demanded. ¡°Who¡¯s maple?¡± he murmured, but was ignored. The lock was tricky and Sqwent¡¯s expertise was nearly not enough, since signing the contract he had inherited the demon¡¯s skills and apparently he was a sneaky prick. Congratulations: Click, the lock sprung to. ¡°There,¡± Dante declared, pleased despite himself. Alma wiggled her fingers before taking the heavy lid in hand. ¡°Wait,¡± Delphine began, unsure of herself. ¡°Not a chance you Light stuffed bimbo,¡± Alma cackled, overcome with a greed fueled mania. She flung open the lid. Dante wore a look of surprise at Alma¡¯s outburst. Delphine wore an expression of shocked injury. Alma wore her twisted features with a vampiric grace. James wore an old white robe which had seen better days. All four, save the last, turned to looks of dismay as, again, the whirring of machinery could be heard. Over Alma''s shoulder, Dante could just make out that the chest was empty. ¡°Ahhhh!¡± they all screamed in unison as the floor disappeared beneath them. ? The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Darkness was no obstacle to the two undead, both possessed Dark vision, a fall into a seemingly bottomless pit on the other hand¡­ ¡°I could save you,¡± Sqwent spoke in Dante¡¯s mind. ¡°You have to, it¡¯s in the contract,¡± Dante screamed aloud. The others only screamed. ¡°Maybe so, maybe so,¡± Sqwent allowed, talking as if he had all the time in the world. ¡°Your friends however¡­¡± he ended, seditiously. A rather hasty and panicked agreement was reached within seconds. Dante¡¯s back exploded, flesh splattering the walls of the pit. Two great, black wings emerged, similar to Sqwent''s, only proportioned to Dante. He screamed in agony, bore down, and focused his Dark Vision about him. Delphine was first, she was closest. Dante swept back his new wings and dove. The woman started screaming when claws came from nowhere and arrested her momentum. Ignoring the woman, Dante pulled her up to an alcove he had spotted, not four feet deep in the natural-stone wall. With one safe, Dante dove again. A hellish wail escaped his maw unbidden. James was just as panicked when the sudden, unseeable drop turned to the clutches of a sudden unseeable demon but Dante again ignored his objections - getting the elf to safety. Alma was last and she had been falling for some time, whatever this pit was, it couldn''t be infinite. She had passed out of the range of his Dark Vision so he propelled himself down at great speed. The bottom of the pit drew into view with terrifying quickness, and there was Alma - not a hundred feet away. She was the only one to stop screaming, falling with a silent expression of acceptance on her face. Dante wouldn¡¯t let her die, couldn¡¯t. She was greedy, cruel, and selfish, but he pitied her. Fifty feet and closing, Dante flapped his wings recklessly. At this speed Sqwent wasn¡¯t sure that he could stop them before they hit the stalagmites that lined the cave''s bottom. Thirty feet, and he drew within a body¡¯s length. Twenty, and it became an arm''s length. Dante''s fingertips grazed her. Shlink. Sqwent took control of the wings in the final second, flaring them open. He had drawn too close to the ground, however, and he hurtled bodily into the side of a calcium stalagmite, smashing it and himself in the process. He bounced about like a pinball, finally coming to rest, alone, beneath a pile of rubble. He thrashed about, extricating himself from the stone in a show of demonic anger and might. Dust billowed up, around him, as he bellowed out his frustration in a roar that shook the cavern walls. In the Cathedral, far above, the sound could not be heard but the tremors were felt and it would later be looked upon as a sign from the almighty Light of things to come. Drained, both physically and mentally, Dante dropped to his knees, staring blankly ahead. The demonic aspects dropped away and he looked unseeing as the dust cleared. ¡°You know¡­¡± Sqwent began in a rather jovial tone. ¡°Shut up,¡± Dante managed weakly in his mind. Sqwent fell silent, leaving behind the feeling of dejection. When the dust did finally clear, he saw what he was dreading. Draped over a blood covered stone spire was Alma. Her skin pale and lifeless, she was impaled through the stomach. Without the slightest effort, memories became untangled. Alma¡¯s deathly complexion had reminded him of that face that haunted him. She was his mother, an uncommonly kind woman who had suffered much indignantly and hardship so that he might pursue his dream. He had never seen, in life, quite how far she had gone for him, but in death, everything was clear. Alma¡¯s black hair and dark eyes reminded him of a girl his age he had known back home. Many had picked on him, calling him slow witted and stupid. She had, perhaps, been the worst of them. When he performed in the town square she had been there for each show making sure to criticise his every note. When he left town, she had been the only one to try and stop him, saying that the town needed its punching bag. He had thought her excessively cruel, he wasn¡¯t able to see the best in her as he was in others. But in death, everything was clear. Dante brushed Alma¡¯s hair from her face, he didn¡¯t remember stumbling over, nor clearing the remaining rubble. He had felt sorry for the vampire, she covered her fears and insecurities with cruelty and anger. He knew he shouldn¡¯t feel sorry for her, she had made her own choices. The deaths at Far-Reach were her fault. Now he could see the brave woman she truly was, he did not fear or hate her for her choices. He respected her, he could never agree with her decision, but at least she had the strength to do something. He had stood back and let Osseus solve the issue. He didn¡¯t know how to feel about her, but in death, everything was clear. He brushed a gentle kiss across her lips in farewell. ¡°Blood,¡± A hoarse voice croaked out desperately, spitting a black fluid into Dante¡¯s eye as it spoke. ¡°You''re alive!¡± Dante exclaimed, overcome by jubilation. ¡°Obviously. Not.¡± Alma gasped out inbetween slow, laboured breaths. For a moment, all Dante could do was laugh, the relief he felt was so all encompassing. Eventually the woman''s angry stare got through to him and he cut his wrist above her open mouth. She grimaced and gagged but swallowed it down. Alma began to heal rapidly, with the rock still embedded. Calling up his demonic strength, Dante smashed the object, removing as much as he could. The Vampiric powers did the rest, knitting the skin and spitting out chunks of stone. ¡°You taste like rotten eggs,¡± Alma said, looking at him in disgust, before falling unconscious. ? It took some time before Dante could control himself. He made sure to set Alma¡¯s sleeping form aside, somewhere less rubble strewn. They appeared to be in a natural cave beneath the church, a shaft had been dug to create the trap they had fallen into. Dante was about to leave and seek the others when a voice in his head stopped him. ¡°You should destroy that necklace she has in her pocket,¡± Sqwent said, cleaning his imaginary fingernails. ¡°You,¡± Dante accused, but searched Alma anyway. In her left pocket, he found pearls that glimmered without light. It was beautiful, incredible. Dante wanted it, he needed it. Opening his mouth in awe, to his surprise and horror a torrent of flame burst forth. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you!¡± Dante snarled, prepared to rip his own head open to get to Sqwent, when the spell was broken and he suddenly felt rather stupid. The jewellery was little more than slag when Dante gave Sqwent a belated apology. ¡°Wait a minute. How long have you known she had that?¡± Dante asked. ¡°I saw her take it from that hidden room, it made her rather overcome with greed,¡± Sqwent replied, distractedly. What could take the demon¡¯s attention inside their own head, Dante didn¡¯t know. ¡°And you didn¡¯t say anything?¡± Dante persisted. ¡°Why should I? You weren''t in immediate danger and I knew whatever happened would be entertaining. Besides I ended up getting what I wanted,¡± Sqwent ended with an evil grin. Dante thought back on the deal they had struck and shivered. Looking up Dante could see that the two devotees of Light had finally summoned some. Seeing this, he decided not to use his demonic wings and instead, called up to them. ¡°Delphine, James, are you well?¡± Dante called. There was a pause. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Delphine called back hesitantly, ¡°But James has broken his arm.¡± There followed a grunt of reluctant affirmation. Dante grimaced, perhaps he had been a bit rough in plucking the young elf from the air. He had thought that they might have been able to climb down the shaft but not with James in that condition. ¡°How about you?¡± Delphine asked back. ¡°I¡¯m okay but Alma¡¯s unconscious, fine otherwise.¡± Dante could hear her sigh of relief from where he stood over a hundred feet below. ¡°We were scooped up by something, I couldn¡¯t see what - in the darkness,¡± Dante added, at Sqwent¡¯s behest. ¡°As were we,¡± Delphine shouted back, concern evident in her voice. ¡°Have you any way down?¡± Dante asked, casting his eyes about for a rope or some such. There followed a quietness, broken up by a conversation out of earshot. ¡°I know a Slow Falling chant,¡± Delphine finally called down, clearly embarrassed. If she had expected some form of scrutiny or judgement Dante didn¡¯t provide. ¡°Good,¡± he replied, genuinely relieved. ¡°Is it strong enough for the both of you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Delphine called back, relieved at the lack of teasing. The pair proceeded to float gently down from the alcove. When their light illuminated a bloody and dust covered Dante - staring up at them - James, embarrassed, cradled in Delphine¡¯s arms, asked: ¡°How can you see?¡± ¡°Dark Vision¡± Dante replied, although his memories had once more fogged over, he knew that it was a common enough Skill. When the pair were safely on the ground, they used a scrap of robe and a straight shard of rock to splint James¡¯ arm. The group debated: whether or not to wait for Alma to awaken, the unknown creature that had saved them, but destroyed half the cave floor, and whether Iago might have some way of knowing the trap was triggered. The three concluded that they needed to press on, into the cave network. Dante hoisted Alma over his shoulder, much as she had done to him, and stumbled. She was much heavier than she appeared. He shrugged off the offers of help, and decided to bear the burden alone as they ventured forth into whatever lay beneath the Church. Chapter 33: Puzzle Pieces Chapter 33: Puzzle Pieces ¡°These tunnels never end! It has been weeks since I lost the other students. We only went down into the sweetshop¡¯s cellar to hide from an angry mob. They were after us for a tiny, little prank we pulled. When the commotion had ended, all the others exited through the hatch, I followed last. How was I supposed to know that the basement counted as a part of The Underground? One moment, I was pulling myself through the hatch to the surface, the next I was in a pond. I had found myself in a subterranean reservoir filled with a variety of magical and non magical life. Although the sight was beautiful and worthy of study, I was scared and ran desperately to find a way out. I regret that now - the place had water and food enough to survive - I haven¡¯t seen it since. I made my way through caves, sewers, hidden trials, and more but never was there a way back to the surface. I have discovered that the path I have travelled can change unless I am totally sure of every stone that I passed, even the slightest bit of doubt and the underground changes. If you are reading this I am likely dead, please let my family, the REDACTED, know my fate.¡± -- An account from a journal found by some junior adventurer¡¯s next to one of the sewer entrances, no body was ever located. ? Ravin polished his glasses with a cloth. He coughed. He coughed louder. The guards cramped into the alley with him didn¡¯t move or even react. They were the most discourteous guests he had ever had. First, there had been that creepy weirdo - whose immediate thought had been to cut him open, dissect him, and now he was stuck with this. The white-and-gold clad men had been led by an overly tall man, adorned in shining armour. At that point, they had appeared to be a rather rambunctious church party, all laughing and cajoling. Not having seen the church members who were supposed to sterilise the tunnels every few weeks, in more than five years, Ravin was rather excited. After a thorough cleaning, there would be less blockages and people wouldn¡¯t stink so badly for at least a month. However, when he asked the leader of their party he was disappointed. Apparently, they weren¡¯t here to use their Sterilising Light chant, although the leader was interested to learn that this duty was being neglected, he claimed not to have time to do it himself. This piqued Ravin¡¯s interest, and, without thinking, the gargoyle asked: ¡°Then why are you here?¡± Instead of the indignant tirade he might have expected from other church members, who believed the sewers were beneath them, he received a simple answer. Apparently he was hunting vampires; they were believed to have attacked Far-Reach fort with a number of raised undead before fleeing. The man and his party were returning to the capital in shame, when the Light sent him a revelation. A number of undead were attacking a small town called Market Basing, Ravin had never heard of it. They turned out to also be vampires and Orlando, for that was the leader¡¯s name, had found a note on one of them - referencing a hidden cache of illegal goods beneath the city. Ravin was compelled to warn them of the dangers of the sewers and how best to avoid them. For the first time in years, they all listened with rapt attention and didn¡¯t interrupt. The stone creature was sad to see the majority of the party leave, he had not had such courteous visitors in a long time. When it was let known that a half dozen men would be left to guard this entrance, Ravin was elated - though he dared not show it. He had only been able to play cards with the other gargoyles and through speech alone, so cheating was rampant. Cards were a given for men on guard duty. What would he play, poker, five mens habits, or maybe catcha? Nothing, apparently. As soon as the men had received their orders - to guard the entrance - they were all seriousness, none would let up their wariness for even a moment. In the end they had stopped speaking to him, deeming him a distraction. ¡°Digger?¡± Ravin called through the Clota network, a magical network that connected all sentient gargoyles. ¡°Ravin, it¡¯s been too long,¡± a rough, gravelly voice returned, from the strangely named gargoyle. ¡°Shoo shoo, get gone.¡± ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry if I interrupted something,¡± Ravin replied, hesitantly. ¡°You¡¯re all right, it''s just those bloody birds. The bank''s pest control charm was done by a student, pretending to be a graduate. Now it attracts birds from all over the city, I can¡¯t think for feathers. Oh, no. You feathered rat I¡¯ll gut you!!! Sorry I¡¯ve been caked in excrement and they keep adding to it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry Digger, I had no idea.¡± ¡°You''re quite alright, it''s not your fault. It''s that bloody school''s problem. They said they would send a professor to fix it weeks ago.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry to impose upon you but I have a request.¡± ¡°Go ahead,¡± Digger replied, the constant sound of swatting and flapping overlapping his voice. ¡°Can you still make out the Underground entrance from your position?¡± ¡°Yep, just about. Hold on.¡± There proceeded an awful screeching and rustling of feathers. ¡°Yep, as I thought. It¡¯s surrounded by church men; lounging about, complaining, drinking, and¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡± ¡°Playing cards,¡± Digger finished. ¡°Why have you got the same problem?¡± ¡°Mine won¡¯t play.¡± ¡°Ahh, I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me I¡¯ll have to contact the other gargoyles who overlook ways into The Underground.¡± ¡°The sewer squad,¡± Digger affirmed, enthusiastically. ¡°I told you not to call us that.¡± Click, the connection was terminated. ? Two Woden¡¯s students walked through the city, apart from their four friends. They were all disguised as common folk because, strictly speaking, they weren''t allowed off school grounds in term time. It was an agreement struck between the towns lord and the headmaster, so being seen breaking the rule could end up with one in double jeopardy. ¡°Stafford?¡± the Wand wielding Wizard asked his companion. ¡°Yes Wandicus?¡± The staff wielding student replied. ¡°Do you think they¡¯re right?¡± ¡°Not a chance! We both saw him.¡± ¡°But there is no Osseus in the list of professors, not even the nominal professors who spend their time researching for the school. No one¡¯s ever heard of him.¡± ¡°Nonsense, he¡¯s a dual affinity mage! Not to mention how quickly he picked up our spells. I think the headmaster might be hiding him.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°So he can have him do the jobs that only the headmaster himself can, without anyone knowing? Or perhaps to do the school''s less savoury work?¡± Stafford said, conspiratorially. ¡°Even if that is true, No one would believe it. Our own housemates think we¡¯re making it up,¡± Wandicus replied, indicating their four friends in a group across the road. At first, they had laughed good-naturedly at the boy¡¯s outlandish tale but when they had persisted it had placed a wedge between the clique. Stafford could only agree with his friend, if he hadn¡¯t been there he wouldn¡¯t have believed it either. They walked in silence for a time. ¡°Stafford?¡± ¡°Yes Wandicus?¡± ¡°Do you really think he¡¯s an assassin or some such.¡± ¡°No,¡± Stafford replied after a disappointed breath. ¡°He was definitely a professor, he was so enthusiastic to teach us anything. He couldn¡¯t wait for questions. He¡¯s better than any of our other teachers.¡± ¡°Not to mention he was able to improve our spellshaping with just a glance.¡± Stafford grunted in reply. ¡°Hey?¡± Wandicus began, ¡°You don¡¯t suppose that it was the headmaster in disguise.¡± ¡°Hmm,¡± Stafford began in a sceptical tone, ¡°We¡¯ve only seen him from a distance, at ceremonies, but word is he took the position for the power it gave him, not to mention the money. I don¡¯t think anyone¡¯s ever seen him teach.¡± ¡°And he¡¯s supposed to have fire and water affinities, not earth and wind,¡± Wandicus added. There proceeded another silence where giggling could be heard and pointing seen from their friends across the road. ¡°We could find out,¡± Stafford eventually proposed. ¡°How?¡± Wandicus asked. ¡°At the Ghibellines¡¯ ball, tonight. The headmaster will no doubt be there,¡± Stafford answered. As they were both distant sons of faraway, minor nobility, they had been afforded an invite. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I haven''t asked anyone to go with me,¡± Wandicus replied, his attention transfixed by a member of their house across the street. His eyes never left her smile, but whenever her head would turn he looked away. Stafford slapped his friend on the back. ¡°We can fix that,¡± he said with a knowing wink. ¡°We can¡¯t just ask the headmaster,¡± Wandicus added, turning his attention back to his pal. ¡°If he knows we¡¯re students then we might end up in detention for a month.¡± ¡°How would he know, he doesn''t spend any time with the students. We¡¯ll just be visiting nobility on our grand tour. Now let''s get you a date,¡± Stafford said, dragging his friend across the street. Just as Wandicus was dragged over a sewer grate, a gout of flame shot up - engulfing the boy''s foot. His shoe was on fire and he was staring at it blankley, in shock. Before Stafford could react, Penelope (the water mage his friend had taken a fancy to) doused the flames, before running to his mates side. ¡°Wandicus Marcus,¡± she said, coming to his aid. A scream soon followed as the pain set in. Stafford wisely took a step back, if they were already on a first name basis, he thought his friend might do alright. He wasn¡¯t too worried about the burn, in a city like this they could get that healed in no time. Instead his focus followed the gazes of his fellow classmates. Gouts of flame had begun to sprout from the sewers in a line, heading out of the city. Something had happened in the underground. A wind howled past with the force of a tornado as it collected up all the fire Stafford could see. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ? ¡°What do you think about the new guy?¡± Tintagel asked, continuing to write his next article. ¡°Tricky, very tricky¡­¡± Loretta replied from further up the desk they shared. ¡°How so?¡± Tintagel questioned. ¡°He will either do great as an adventurer, he has the strength, or he will grow bored of it. It¡¯s clear his passions lie elsewhere.¡± ¡°He won¡¯t be your successor?¡± ¡°No¡­sadly¡± ¡°If that¡¯s the case, you shouldn¡¯t have sent him after rats, he¡¯ll get bored all the faster. You should have sent him after a dragon!¡± They looked at each other and both let out a chuckle. ¡°Anyhow,¡± Loretta eventually said, ¡°I didn¡¯t send him, one of the girls at the desk did. Tradition or some such nonsense.¡± ¡°We both know what can happen if you send a strong adventurer on a weak quest, the world seeks to right things.¡± A silence overtook the pair as they scribbled, each on their own train of thought. The reception used noise-isolating charms so neither the bustle of the board room nor the cacophony of the common room broke through. An entitled lordling strode in, demanding that he be given membership immediately. When neither looked up he clapped in the old woman¡¯s face, demanding to see the Guildmaster. With a casual wave of her wand, he was sent flying through the window, his cadre scurrying after him. Her eyes never moved from her work. ¡°Did you notice he was undead or are you getting blind in your old age?¡± Loretta asked, ignoring the interruption. ¡°It was the eyes,¡± Tintagel answered. ¡°The eyes?¡± Loretta asked. The ruffled noble came charging back in, demanding an apology, and was sent out another window - with but a thought. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not the one getting old,¡± Tintagel laughed, quickly turning it into a cough at his wife''s look, ¡°Sorry dear.¡± ¡°What about his eyes?¡± she asked again, returning to the subject. ¡°Oh, well. Osseus never focused on what he was actually looking at. His eyes would just look straight ahead. That told me it was some kind of disguise. Then I just had to look more closely. His breaths didn¡¯t move the air, when I fitted him with clothes they wrapped into his skin, and do you know what the biggest give away was?¡± Tintagel spoke, eager to show off his skills of observation. A uniformed officer of the law lingered nervously at the doorway. Passing the rim of her skullcap through her fingers nervously, waiting to speak. ¡°You know I don¡¯t Tinny. And spit it out Officer Singer before you give me indigestion,¡± Loretta spoke, venomously. Tintagel held his reveal anxiously until the uniformed woman said her piece. ¡°Err.. well mam¡­. Emm¡­ he seems to be claiming that you, that is you Mrs. Loretta, has somehow assaulted¡­ the¡­ erm.. Young¡­ urm¡­ gentleman. Not that I am accusing you of anything,¡± the officer rushed to add as the older woman looked at her. A voice called out from the street, ¡°What are you a woman or a woodlouse?! Get in there and arrest that crazy bitch!¡± The officer gulped at the words. Loretta raised an eyebrow and stood. ¡°What did you call me?¡± the Adventures¡¯ Guildmaster called out, ignoring the officer as she flattened herself against the door frame to let the old woman past. Tintagel followed, jumping on his tiptoes, struggling to hold in his final remark. ¡°Honestly, I expected we¡¯d have some arrogant pricks about, what with the Ball. Is this your first time away from home without a parent or older sibling?¡± Now, without the Law between them, the not-so-confident lord backed away from the shuffling old woman - his eyes fixed on her wand. ¡°You think that you can just stroll in here, kill a dragon and get out from under your family''s thumb?! I saved you from your own stupidity and what do you call me?¡± Loretta raised her wand and the man''s hands raised in defence. Suddenly, from beneath the city, there came a rumble. The sun seemed to darken and from up the street came a flash of light. Fire raged up from one entrance to the underground to another, creating a line that headed right for them. Loretta became the wind. Using its power to collect and direct the fire, she saved innumerable people from a burning death, corralling the flame. Taking flight, she followed the trail of fire as it headed out of the city - protecting as many as she could. The noble dropped to the ground, sweating and shaking. ¡°Fine, say it,¡± Loretta relented. Tintagel, who had been keeping up by jumping from rooftop to rooftop, scooping up passers by when they came close to the fire and moving them to safety, smiled. ¡°It was the footprints,¡± he let out in a rush, when he was at the apex of one jump. Loretta raised her wand, slashing down from left to right, fire that had travelled down side-passages was collected up by a sudden gust of wind and joined the main stream, saving a nearby school. People stared at the pair as they followed in the wake of the flames rushing across the city. ¡°What about the footprints?¡± Loretta asked, ¡°He was wearing boots wasn¡¯t he?¡± ¡°Yes but you can,¡± Tintagel began, before falling out of earshot. He leaped again, ¡°see an odd. Impression. In the. boot print. When he. Was changing. He took. Off his. Boots. And the. Impressions. I¡¯m getting too old¡­ Were. Of. only. The Bones. In the. Foot.¡± he eventually panted out. ¡°He¡¯s a skeleton, isn¡¯t he?¡± Loretta concentrated on the escaping inferno, she wasn¡¯t able to reach the source with her wind, but all the surface flames could be controlled. The trail headed out of the city and towards the fields, she could already begin to feel her control slipping, so saving the city would have to be enough. ¡°Tinny, you know I can¡¯t reveal any adventurer¡¯s secrets,¡± Loretta responded. Maintaining her focus on the task. ¡°I¡¯m right. Though. Aren''t I.¡± Tintagel persisted, ever more out of breath. Finally, the stream of fire passed under the wall. It continued, combusting trees and bushes from beneath and creating a path of destruction as whatever was causing it sped underground. Loretta wiped the sweat from her brow, not having pushed herself so hard in many years. Ignoring the conflagration that reached out into the country, she collected all that was left in the city into a ball. Despite her efforts, the fire wouldn¡¯t die, it persisted without oxygen. She condensed the ball smaller and smaller, converting the fire-mana into wind through pressure. When it had retracted to a roiling ball of flame the size of her head, the old woman''s control slipped. Buildings shook and glass broke from the ensuing explosion. Thankfully, she was high enough in the air to keep people out of the radius, but there wasn¡¯t a person in Wiccawich who didn¡¯t either see or hear the 1000 foot tall ball of flame which burst forth. It formed, rapidly, into the shape of an enormous head, burning emerald eyes looking out upon the city. The dragon roared, sending the nearest people flying and destroying structures. She let forth a tongue of flame that stretched across the city¡¯s skyline from one side to the other before releasing control of the fire mana, leaving the image to dissipate. Loretta floated down to rest, her back against the outside of the city wall. Tintagel bounded over - sliding down next to her. Both out of breath. ¡°We¡¯re both getting too old,¡± Tintagel finally said, between heaving breaths. ¡°You were right.¡± Loretta replied, ¡°Not only about that.¡± ? Bang. Splat. Screech. That was the last thing John ever heard. The Bang of metal on flesh, the Splat of body beneath the truck, and the Screech of tires as the brakes were applied - too late. John sat, stood? Existed, or not, in darkness. He couldn¡¯t feel, see or hear anything. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. He sighed, or tried to, nothing came from nowhere and blew out more nothing. This was just his luck. John was living alone in London, he had moved out there to fulfil his dream. He applied to every art college in the city and not a one had accepted him. Nonetheless John moved there in hopes of trying again next year, this year. He thought he could find a job and rent a place in the city but waiting tables, washing dishes, and working nights at a petrol station wasn¡¯t enough to afford the rent. He had advertised for roommates - that was his first mistake. The guy he now lived with always paid on time, often in cash, but it was his other activities that made John uneasy. So much so that he hadn¡¯t said a thing about it. He had just dodged a police raid on the flat, gone downstairs, and collected his post. To find that, once again, he had been rejected. He couldn¡¯t even return to his room and begin drawing - as he so often did to raise his spirits - he could still hear the shouts of ¡°Police, Open up.¡± When John walked down the stairs, past the armed police, no one had paid him any mind. It was as if he were invisible. ¡®That¡¯s me, the invisible man.¡¯ He thought, walking out into the rainy night - not knowing where he was going but just that he had to leave. His whole life he had been overlooked. He was the third child of four, never having anything just for himself. His brother was the smart one, his sister the kind one, and his younger brother the family charity case. He, he was nothing. John didn¡¯t have a drug problem, he didn¡¯t make six figures and he didn¡¯t volunteer for the Saint John¡¯s Ambulance Service. He just was. The final person they thought to invite to a family gathering. John had had friends in school or he thought he did. He didn¡¯t speak to any of them now, they hadn¡¯t even asked what he was doing. John had wandered aimlessly as, yet again, he debated giving up on his dream. Is it really worth it? Before he could work himself back around to his ideals - through the normal path of questions and answers he knew by heart - John was struck by a lorry and killed almost instantly. Killed by a rogue lorry, at least that won¡¯t be forgettable. It might be on the news. He thought, trying to cheer himself up. In the void no time passed, or all time passed? Time ceased to exist or never existed. Whatever happened or didn¡¯t, the blackness broke after some not-time had not-passed. His intangible soul was struck across the face by a clawed hand¡­ somehow. The aspiring artist gasped as the blackness of nothing dripped from him. John looked up into eyes darker than the void, on the draconic face of a man-shaped creature - the darkest impossible black. Looking upon him, John was not able to repress his deepest anxieties, he was nothing, no one. ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± the thing said, lifting his soul ball higher. The despair lifted as if it had never been there but John didn¡¯t know that he could ever believe in himself again. ¡°I wanna get back to my game,¡± The Darkness began, not waiting for John to get back to his senses. ¡°Let''s make this quick. I took your soul from a world that is familiar with the idea of being reborn in another world, I believe your people call it Isekai?¡± he added, looking down at a piece of paper and reading off the word. The paper had appeared from nowhere and had strange symbols on it. Scared and confused, John simply nodded. ¡°Great. You are my champion. Here are some Skills. Go cause chaos and try not to die again so soon,¡± the thing said with a wave of its claw. Just as it was about to cast John aside, a creature of green oozing tentacles burst into the black nothingness, that was somehow different to the void of before. ¡°Great news,¡± the thing declared. ¡°What is it Yamete?¡± the dragonoid asked the tentacle monster. ¡°Some Lich has burst into this world and started reeking havoc, that Light bitch won¡¯t be on your arse anymore. You don¡¯t have to summon a villain, her Paladin has something to do.¡± ¡°What?!¡± John tried to cry out, but nothing happened - he was ignored anyhow. ¡°Typical,¡± The Darkness complained, ¡°Well I guess I¡¯ll just keep this one in storage. Looks like I can come back to the game now; did you get snacks?¡± Before John could utter another word he was plunged back into the fluid darkness where time did not not, not not not, not exist¡­. or not? ? David Wainwright sat on a bench in the graveyard. It rained. It hadn¡¯t stopped raining since the funeral. David had sat here all night. Many men had been lost but looking across at a gravestone he truly grieved for but one. ¡°Mr. Pools Died as he lived; in the pursuit of justice. Retired at age 50 but never stopped helping till the end.¡± ¨C the headstone read. David had had no real family, none that he would care to mention but Mr. Pools or Detective inspector Pools was as close as anyone had come for Mr. Wainwright. When he first joined the Police force he was hot headed and overeager. It was always Mr. Pools that got him out of those close calls, afterwards, they would visit the pasty stall, sit by the river and talk. He would ignore whatever advice the older man would give and head to solve his next problem with the same brutishness as before. Nevertheless the older detective would be there to bail him out and he would reiterate those same lessons, however many times it would take to get into his thick head. David wiped his tired, sore eyes and looked up to the raining sky. ¡®Why is fate so unkind?¡¯ he thought. ¡®Is she not a god in the pantheon of Light? should she not work to better the world?¡¯ It was a question possessed by many, for all the lesser gods and goddesses in the Light¡¯s pantheon claimed to strive for good, but not fate. She was ever fickle and whimsical, never to be controlled by another. A pair of gangly limbs sat themselfs beside him. Where before they had been uncoordinated and hesitant, now they were graceful and competent. ¡®The fight with the vampires hasn¡¯t been all bad it would seem¡¯ David thought, with a wry chuckle. ¡°Mr. Wainwright.¡± ¡°Mr. Hills.¡± The two mens¡¯ greetings were all that was said for a time as the rain poured ever on. Eventually, once David had become used to his presence, Mr. Hills spoke. ¡°It hurts doesn¡¯t it. Losing something I mean,¡± he said, looking ahead at the graves of the fallen. ¡°Someone you mean?¡± David asked. ¡°Hmm? Yes of course.¡± ¡°If I were a younger man, I might not have the strength to admit it but yes, yes it does,¡± David finally said, letting the rain take up the silence between them. ¡°What will you do?¡± Mr. Hills asked. ¡°What can I do?¡± David responded. ¡°Revenge?¡± Mr. Hills questioned. David looked at the man strangely before laughing darkly. ¡°Again, if I were a younger man I might try it. And when I came back covered in scars and clinging desperately to life, Mr. Pools would tell me what a fool I had been before splitting a pasty.¡± Rain came between the two men again as they returned their gazes to the gravestones. ¡°What if I told you there was a way to gain the power you would need to get your revenge.¡± Mr. Hills began but was interrupted by a great earthquake. The two men grasped desperately at the bench for support. In the distance it started, something orange and bright hazed by the rain. It quickly drew nearer and resolved itself to be a line of fire, headed straight for them. ¡°Shit!¡± David cried. Just before the inferno hit the isolated graveyard, far outside town, the flames disappeared. The earthquake, however, only grew stronger. David''s eyes followed the motions as it went under the graves then, on the other side and in a field, fire burst forth. From beneath the ground came a roaring, enraged dragon, its body nothing but fire and growing by the second. Rain turned to steam on its hide. David''s heart burst from his chest and his breath caught. It swung a carriage sized claw down but was stopped by a heretofore unseen foe. With an almost casual ease the old man turned aside the attack leaving it to burn up a copse of trees that had stood longer than David had been alive. ¡°Shit!¡± the inspector reiterated when, once again, he could breathe. Chapter 34: Ghibellines’ Ball Chapter 34: Ghibellines¡¯ Ball ¡°The Ghibellines family is perhaps the largest and most influential in all the kingdom. Contributing to their position, not only among the peerage but the common folk, is their annual Ball. Every Ghibellines house, in every city in the kingdom, holds the grandest ball of the season. They open their estates to the peasantry, with the exception of the house itself - of course. Grand feasts, dancing of all sorts, and fireworks - make up the display. Despite the presence of stinking peasants, there isn¡¯t a member of the gentry who won¡¯t attend their nearest Ghibellines¡¯ Ball, for there is no better opportunity to get into the good graces of the family. Or rise in its ranks for the more distant members, relegated to lording over rural towns and villages.¡± -- An excerpt from The power of balls by Scroticus Sackus. ? Navigating the cave beneath the church proved to be harder than the party expected. Not for any physical reason but because of its contents. They came to one chamber where the walls were lined with rusted cages, stacked atop each other to the roof of the cavern. Although long abandoned, the use of these cells was evident. All three conscious members could feel the anguish and despair which still lingered here. The sombre Delphine and James didn''t say a word as they sped through. At one point, they thought that they had come to an exit. A long narrow shaft that ascended directly up. Rungs were hammered into the wall. By the acolyte¡¯s reckoning it should put them somewhere on the edge of the temple ground¡­probably. They ascended and somehow found themselves in a sewer tunnel, the stink was too much even for the undead. ¡°Shit,¡± James cursed. ¡°Yes, we can all smell that,¡± Dante remarked, still carrying a sleeping Alma - covering her nose. ¡°No, you idiot. I¡¯ve heard of this but I always thought it was just a rumour,¡± James informed. ¡°The Underground?¡± Delphine asked, with a mixture of disbelief and fear. ¡°Yes,¡± James confirmed. ¡°What¡¯s ¡®The Underground¡¯?¡± Dante inquired. After a mixed description that the pair had gained through gossip. Isolated to the church grounds as they were, their knowledge was lacking. Dante was about to ask if they couldn¡¯t just turn around but when looking back - he saw that the hatch they had climbed through disappeared. They wandered about for hours with no direction. At some point, Alma awoke but was groggy and slow. While leaning on Dante¡¯s arm for support she revealed, in a whisper, that eating undead blood had negative side effects and she¡¯d need human blood before long. The pair stumbled along, one anxious the other hungrily looking at their two companions. Luck appeared to be on the group¡¯s side as after some time voices could be heard. Cautiously following the sound, the voices resolved themselves to be familiar ones. It was the sound of Iago and his cronies, counting aloud some kind of numbers. James wanted to go to him immediately but Alma managed to hold the boy back. They watched as he passed a tunnel over. They had meant to follow but again Alma kept them all back. Soon it was clear why, two figures were stalking the Priest, walking with loping graceful steps - not making a sound. Again, James tried to break free but again he was stopped. They ended up following the followers at an equal distance. When Iago departed the sewers, using a hidden door, they weren¡¯t able to see the mechanism. Thankfully the two stalkers could, and they, in turn, saw them. A specific brick was pressed and a passage was opened. This new pathway was scent isolated which came to everyone¡¯s relief and after a quick Sterilising Chant from the acolyte the group smelled as fresh as daisies. The path was much narrower so they had to keep a greater distance. It terminated in a large store room, from the entrance they could see Iago but the two followers disappeared. When James heard the truth of Iago¡¯s actions, he couldn¡¯t hold himself back, and neither could Delphine. Although she tried her best. Dante didn¡¯t follow the pair as Alma had stopped, frozen still. It was as if she had seen a ghost, and she wasn''t already a vampire. Dante tried to move her but couldn¡¯t, her muscles tight and trembling. He followed her gaze to the middle of the room where one bone fell after another. The bones seemed odd to Dante. Slightly yellowed and engraved with strange black runes. It finally struck him when they began to articulate. ¡°Osseus?¡± he asked but was cut off by a sudden wind. It carried the two acolytes from the room, kicking and screaming. It whisked them along at blistering speed but didn¡¯t seem to attach to Dante and Alma as it did the others. Alma began slipping off the cushion of air and Dante grasped her catatonic hand, but it only ended up dragging him off as well. They had gone so fast that he didn¡¯t recognize the place they found themselves in when they fell and in the blink of an eye the acolytes were carried out of sight. They were no longer in the passage or the sewers but a strange underground cave that seemed to have grass growing on its flaw. ¡®What was that?¡¯ Dante tried to stand but his hand was being held in a death grip by an unmoving Alma. Having tumbled from the fast air current they were a tangle of limbs upon the grass. Using his other three appendages Dante extricated himself as best he could. Looking Alma in the eye, he spoke her name calmly and softly. She seemed to snap back to her senses, backing away from Dante¡¯s closeness. Pulled back by her own unrelenting grip on his hand, she released it with disgust before remastering herself - back straight. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Dante asked, concern evident in his voice. ¡°Fine,¡± Alma lied. Trying to control her shaking - not able to look Dante in the eye. He laid a hand on her shoulder to calm her but it was shrugged away. Dante frowned and sat a distance away on the grass. A silence stretched between them but Date was content to wait. ¡°I promised myself I wouldn''t do that. I thought I could be strong,¡± Alma eventually said, clearly chastising herself. A tear may have come to her eye but she covered it with a punch to her own face. ¡°You are strong,¡± Dante said, without an ounce of doubt or embarrassment. She blushed but didn¡¯t reply. Some time was spent with the pair listening to the sound of subterranean crickets. With time Alma came back to herself, fueled by self loathing she stood ¡°Come on, we''re going,¡± she declared, still not meeting Dante¡¯s eye. ¡°Where to?¡± Dante asked, just trying to get her to talk. ¡°I don¡¯t know, anywhere!¡± she snapped. Dante followed along as the chirping of insects returned. They headed in the direction the wind had gone, soon finding themselves in a most peculiar forest. Instead of branches and leaves the trees seemed to be nothing but roots growing up, stringy tendrils floating in the air as if possessed. Neither of them said a word about the odd plants and neither allowed even the smallest grasping root to touch them. They lost the windswept trail at some point. How, they knew not. The destruction it had caused just seemed to cease. Likely disappeared into The Underground carrying the two acolytes with it. From between the white whispering feelers came a weird sight. A cottage that wouldn¡¯t look out of place in some idyllic retirement village. One story, furnished with a thatched roof, and limewashed. A rose bush grew up one wall but didn¡¯t seem to have any flowers, or even buds. ¡°That¡¯s definitely haunted.¡± Dante remarked without inflection. Alma didn¡¯t halt in her forward march. ¡°Where are you going?¡± he asked, with some little concern evident. ¡°Where do you think?¡± Alma replied, churlishly. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, are you scared?¡± she taunted, trying to hide the involuntary snort of mucus. Dante rushed after the determined woman - trying to get her to turn away but she wouldn¡¯t be dissuaded. Creak. The wooden door swung slowly open without much effort. Alma stomped into the kitchen and Dante stepped carefully behind her. The room was well stocked, the walls lined with pots, pans, cooking implements, and jars. The pair had just made it to the dining table when there came a Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Bang. Dante flinched, Alma spun; a Blood Whip at the ready. Dante turned to see the door slam, his heart hammering. Behind them clay smashed as a line of oat pots shattered on the floor. Alma clenched her weapon tight, circling slowly. Dante twisted to face the sound, his face as pale as ever. Twang. Dante spun at the new sound. A knife had appeared, as if thrown, in the back of the door. It still wobbled. Dante repositioned himself again at yet another sound, that of an old woman cackling. His eyes landed on the most witch-like witch a witch could be. Messy grey hair, a long crooked nose, and half missing teeth completed the image. She sat at the table¡¯s head. Unfortunately for them both, all the spinning had left Dante rather dizzy, when combined with the shocking appearance it caused him to land, back first, in the woman¡¯s lap. It was a move some swooning lady might perform so that she could be swept up into a prospect¡¯s arms. Dante was no fainting waif however. Oof, Crack, Thud. Dante landed, the woman Oofed, the chair broke. Before either could react, the witch had a Blood Whip at her throat. ¡°Who are you!¡± Alma challenged the already detained witch. ¡°Really?¡± she questioned, although it was muffled beneath Dante. Realising this he rushed to get off the presumably frail old lady. She spat out a mouthful of dirt that had transferred from the Bard¡¯s now rather tired clothes. ¡°What were you doing swimming through mud?¡± she spat, in a surprisingly good natured tone. Still raw, Alma was having none of it. ¡°I asked you a question,¡± she near hissed. ¡°Keep your hair on,¡± the old woman complained, joints creaking and popping as she made her way back to her feet. Something grey slipped from her head revealing tightly tied black hair beneath. She snatched it with an as yet unseen speed and in the blink of an eye had it back on her head. Dante stared in confusion as his heart slowed, after all the frantic spinning. ¡°Honestly, you come into my house and start demanding things¡­ I was only playing a harmless prank.¡± Dante couldn¡¯t catch any more of the mumbling that occurred in the rest of the arduous rising process. When it became evident that Alma wasn¡¯t about to put away her weapon she answered: ¡°The name¡¯s Nora, Nora the Naughty Witch,¡± she declared, as if they should recognise it. ¡°You know¡­¡± she encouraged. ¡°Famous the city over for my pranks and scoundreltry.¡± She looked between the pair, shocked. ¡°We¡¯re not local,¡± Dante explained, feeling sorry for the woman, who looked quite put out at the lack of reaction. Not really knowing what to do, Alma unsummoned her weapon. ¡°Can I ask, are you a Witch?¡± Dante asked, not able to hold back the question. ¡°Well of course I¡¯m a Witch. I don¡¯t live in a cabin in the woods, nor grow warts for nothing. It¡¯s all branding,¡± she explained. ¡°Woods?¡± Alma murmured under her breath bitterly. ¡°Now,¡± the Witch continued, clapping her hands, ¡°What are your two wishes?¡± ¡°I thought that was genies or djinn? And why two?¡± Dante asked but was drowned out by Alma¡¯s immediate shout for ¡°Gold¡±. A tiny coin, smaller than a pea, pinged off her forehead. ¡°There are two wishes because there are two of you,¡± the wishing Witch explained, addressing Dante¡¯s questions. ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± Alma began angrily, ¡°I want more gold than a king,¡± she amended. ¡°That is more than some kings, besides you¡¯ve had your wish. Boy, what do you want?¡± she asked, ignoring Alma¡¯s stomping. ¡°Emm,¡± he began, not wanting to take anything away from his companion. When it became clear she wouldn¡¯t give her anything more he answered. ¡°I would like to know, and be known by, my family,¡± he said, choosing his words carefully. Alma huffed. The witch wiggled her hands in a manner that may have been mystic before looking off into the distance. Several seconds passed before she returned to herself. ¡°Difficult, very difficult. I can try my best but I¡¯ll need something from you,¡± she finally said. Alma paced, annoyed. ¡°What do I need to do?¡± Dante asked, resolute. She shot him a surprisingly impish grin before announcing: ¡°You must answer my riddles three!¡± Alma slammed her fist on the table to stop the annoying woman. ¡°I thought that was Ghosts?¡± Dante asked, having heard something of the sort from the only ghost he had ever met. ¡°Hush,¡± the Witch said, striking his shin with a cane that had appeared from nowhere, ¡°I¡¯m old, I can do what I like.¡± ¡°Get it over with then,¡± Alma demanded, fed up with the whole thing. ¡°Fine, fine. Here¡¯s your first one: A Witch on her travels meets three Fates. One is called Truth and always speaks the truth. The second is called Falsehood and always tells lies. The third is called Wisdom and sometimes speaks the truth and sometimes lies. The trouble is that the Witch does not know which is which. Therefore, she asks each one a question. She starts with the Fate on the left and asks her: ¡®Which one is standing in the middle?¡¯ The Fate replies: ¡®Truth¡¯. She asks the middle one: ¡®Which one are you?¡¯ The Fate responds: ¡®Wisdom¡¯. She asks the last one: ¡®Which one is standing in the middle?¡¯ The Fate replies: ¡®Falsehood¡¯. The question is, which Fate is which? First, second and third?¡± Dante took some time to think it over but it was Alma who answered, ¡°Wisdom, falsehood, truth.¡± When Dante looked at her, questioningly, she responded, ¡°Riddles used to be a great way to part drunkards from their coin,¡± and shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s correct!¡± The Witch declared, somehow fluctuating the light with her laugh of delight. ¡°Next one, next one: The thought of me brings sickness The sight of me, despair Falter while in battle And you''re sure to find me there. When you fall most ill Make sure to have a care To leech me for your treatment Will take you elsewhere.¡± ¡°Blood,¡± Alma replied, without hesitation. ¡°Very good,¡± the Witch clapped. ¡°But this is for the young man¡¯s wish so he must answer the last.¡± Reluctantly, Alma agreed. ¡°No legs have I to dance, No lungs have I to breathe, No life have I to live or die And yet I do all three. What am I?¡± she asked. Dante sat, thinking about it. Alma clearly got it right away and seemed ready to punch it into him. ¡®No legs, doesn¡¯t breathe, but lives and dies?¡¯ Dante thought. It was certainly a hard one. Dante¡¯s eyes searched the room as he pondered the riddle. They lingeried on the hearth for a moment and it came to him. ¡°Fire,¡± he said, at first softly, ¡°It¡¯s fire isn¡¯t it.¡± He smiled seeing the look of pride on Alma¡¯s face. It quickly passed when she realised it was there. ¡°Excellent,¡± the Witch cackled. This time it seemed far more sinister. The candlelight intensified - with a wave of the women''s cane the two were hurtled into the fireplace without a moment to react. Before they could so much as scream they were engulfed in green flame. Dante let out a sound of pained surprise only to realise it didn¡¯t hurt. Thinking the fire may be some form of transportation spell, he waited. Just as he was about to get up, the floor disappeared from beneath them and they fell, the fire some sort of distraction. Down, Down, Up? Gravity flipped and they found themselves popping out of a well. Around them was the courtyard of an excessively large house. A complete staff of servants bustled, not even noticing the newcomers - so busy with their preparations were they. Dante was, again, about to stand when he heard a cough directly above the pair. He looked up to see a rather serious looking man, dressed smartly in black, seeming not at all pleased. ? After Alma was able to produce a piece of paper, the butler''s manor changed completely. As it turned out they had appeared on the grounds of the Ghibellines¡¯ estate, just as they were preparing for the night¡¯s festivities. Alma at some point had swiped an invitation and it granted them some immunity from the majordomo''s wrath. He was clearly displeased at the sudden, unexpected arrival but hid it behind a mask of professional passivity. Apparently, it wasn¡¯t unusual for some of the noble guests to arrive ahead of time and expect rooms to be prepared for them. As such, they were escorted to the guest wing of the manor. Now that the earlier excitement had worn off, Alma was looking worse than ever. Clearly low on energy, with bags under her eyes and laboured sounding breathing. She looked at the maid that followed her into her rooms hungeraly. Dante spent the next few hours being fussed about by a number of servants, not knowing what he was supposed to do, he let them go about their work. His clothes were taken, he was bathed thoroughly, then dried off by men who seemed to see it more like polishing a statue than treating a person. After he was red raw he was to be dressed. When being undressed he had been measured and whilst he was washed, clothes had been prepared. A variety of styles and colours were laid before him. Dante''s mind reeled at the level of wealth this alone represented. How rich must the Ghibellines be to be able to treat every guest in such a way? When asked which family he was from, in order to emblaze their emblem, he paused. When he asked them to leave it blank he was given odd looks but obeyed. Not able to choose which outfit he asked for the advice of the most senior servant attending him. He ground his teeth as he chose the same outfit that Sqwent had been raving over since he saw it. A red tunic, with silk embellishments and puffy shoulders. The trim and buttons black, it came with a matching pair of hose and a one shoulder cape. Dante felt ridiculous wearing it but hardly felt in a position to complain. He reunited with Alma in the hallway. She seemed far more vivacious, a skip in her step. He was relieved when he saw the same maid as before leaving Alma¡¯s room, although she seemed pale and drawn she was still alive. The pair were as ready as they could ever be for a Ball in high society. Chapter 35: Dragon Chapter 35: Dragon ¡°Zeto, is that you?¡± the fire dragon I had created and bound a true Dragon¡¯s soul to, asked. I froze - turning. ¡°How do you know that name?¡± I returned, a chill running down my spine. ¡°No, you are not him. You wear his skin,¡± the Dragon hissed after taking in a big sniff of me and sucking up half the remaining dust into her inferno. ¡°You cannot know him,¡± I stated resolutely. ¨C Dragons rarely interacted with mortals, and although I had befriended one, our relationship was singular and built on a joint love for knowledge. ¡°He would have said,¡± I added, losing some confidence. The beast examined me with its emerald eyes. ¡°You knew him?¡± she took another sniff, ¡°He trained you.¡± Then another; this time she hopped back, wings out stretch and tail poised to strike. ¡°Lich!¡± she hissed. ¡°What of it?¡± I asked, ¡°Please, you must tell me what you know of my master.¡± I urged. Still ready, she answered, ¡° I fought alongside Zeto in The Undead Wars. Thousands of mortals were lost in that never ending fight. It was only thanks to his spell, using my life force, that the Lich¡¯s soul was finally destroyed. No more phalactory¡¯s, no more possessions.¡± There was so much information in those few words. So much I didn¡¯t know and so many questions raised that my curious spirit forced its way to the fore. ¡°Zeto stopped the war?¡± I let out, unable to hold back the question. My master had only ever said he fought in The War, he never told me. The Dragon laughed despite herself, the bellowed breaths drying out my already arid bones. ¡°He was never one to boast.¡± she said, the slightest smile tugging the corner of her muzzle but it was wiped away in moments. ¡°The destruction that self-proclaimed overlord created was so great that it was agreed between all living creatures that if another natural lich should rise they would be destroyed immediately. Since your master was clearly too soft it appears I shall have to correct his mistake.¡± ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± I replied, not wanting her to think less of the man. This however was the wrong thing to say. ¡°You killed him!¡± she bellowed, her flames growing hotter. I was about to correct the dragon when my words were cut off as I was engulfed by a breath of flame. Not ready for the attack I was swallowed entirely. When the smoke cleared I was left, to my surprise, unharmed. Again my robes had withstood the attack, if barely, smoke began to rise from the outfit. ¡°What on Cosmo-Osto are these made of?¡± I wondered. The Dragon was enraged by her attack¡¯s ineffectiveness. I had begun testing the fabric with a variety of different mana types, seeing if this world''s magic System might reveal more of its secrets when I noticed what the creature was doing. Having taken the majority of my power during the summoning she was still not satisfied. Sucking in all the ambient mana from the surroundings she would shorten the duration of the summoning but that attack would have surely hurt. Using as little mana as possible to get a satisfactory effect, I activated Bone Armour. A black inky portal appeared beneath me, its depth amplified by the growing light of the dragon. Her scales about her chest and throat had amplified from orange to white hot and still they grew. Yellowed bone plates, adorned with sinister black runes, clamped themselves around; my feet, the dragon reared back, my legs, she raised up her head, my waist, she rolled her head behind her, my chest and head, the air began to vibrate from the concentration of unspent mana, my left arm, her head snapped forward and the attack was launched. Where before, her fire breath had emitted a cone of destruction now a beam of white hot annihilation was realised. Unable to move from the grip of the incomplete spell, I launched a Wind Breath at myself. Just in time, the unattached right armpiece was disintegrated in the blink of a non-existent eye and I was thrown clear. I didn¡¯t believe that even my Magically Reinforced Bones could have withstood the silent attack. Curious about how such a concentration of fire-mana, given form by this world, might react with the earth around us. I looked back to see a head sized hole carved into The Underground. It exposed the multiple layers of closely packed tunnels that lay one behind another, much to my surprise. Taking the time in the middle of a fight however proved to be a mistake. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. When I had looked away, the Dragon had cooled to a dull red, smoke pouring off her, when I looked back, a white claw was a foot from my head and closing fast. Using Shocking Aura I momentarily disrupted the spellshape that was the Dragon, causing the attack to pass harmlessly through me as unwilled mana. Now I could see the rest of her as she sped past, turning an entire section of that wall to slag and revealing a sewer tunnel running parallel (full of cooked rats). I realised something - that big attack she had used, although it was powered by ambient mana (a trick of dragons) it had also used up ten percent of the power I had embodied her with. That won¡¯t do at all! I thought. There was still plenty of testing that needed to be done. Clearly, she had thought the same as her last claw attack had been far more reserved. The main of her body was still a cooler red but she had empowered her right claw with the white-hot fire and was able to maintain most of the gathered mana after the miss. She spun at the end of the recently box-filled room, hind claws sizzling into the stone floor to halt her momentum. As soon as she stopped, if not before, she leapt back at me, right claw poised. I had already proven my theory: that lightning could be used to break the bonds of mana, and disrupt a spell. Time to see What wind mana might do. I met her upcoming fiery attack with a Wind Blade. As perhaps could be expected, the reaction was violent. Her claw expanded three times its size in under a second causing an explosion. Unfortunately, I was rather too close. I was reminded of home as I bounced away, ping ponging down an exposed sewer tunnel. The stone chipped on impact and my armour cracked. Time to try my next Idea! I thought, exuberant. I hadn¡¯t had a proper experiment like this in years. She did not sit idle, flapping her wings to catch up. The walls of this mysterious space turned to lava at her passing, though it did seem to require some effort to wade through. Angered by the slowness, the creature increased her heat and thus her pace. Flames shot out from her at regular intervals, shooting down the nearby tunnels and passages. A tail, enhanced in the manner her claw had been, shot for my ribs. I had since gotten to my feet and continued to propel myself away from the beast with successive Wind Breaths. It was time to test the extent of my control over the Wind Domain spell. Extending it a foot about my person, I commanded all the air to depart with haste, creating a vacuum. I realised my mistakes nearly too late. First, the Wind Breath ceased to function. Second, although the fire could no longer burn when it drew close, the heat had not been diminished. As a matter of fact, the lack of burning seemed to intensify it. To my great fortune the first mistake nullified the second. Instead of shooting down the sewer tunnel in a straight line, as the lady Dragon had expected, my trajectory became a parabola. The tail skewered the air above me as I fell into the steaming effluent. My earlier assumption proved correct - the unprotected right arm of my black robe evaporated from the closeness of the enhanced attack. I saw, briefly, the snarl of frustration on the beast''s face. I had fallen between her tail¡¯s end and her body but the confinement of the tunnel, she had to melt herself into, prevented her from striking immediately. What shall I try next? I thought. Releasing Wind Domain and holding my proverbial stomach. I used another overpowered Wind Breath to shoot me back out into the tunnel, water dripping from me, just in time. The mistress, in her frustration, had intended to destroy me by simply running me over. She screeched in fury as I again evaded her clutches. The tunnel opened up into a much larger culmination of tributaries just ahead, its height and width large enough for the dragon so she would not be so slowed again. She bellowed out her relief as I shot out into the cavanus tunnel followed by a flame breath. I noticed just before it landed that the red hue that had taken over her flame had disappeared and the orange returned as her body no longer had to expend energy in melting the stone. As this coming attack wasn¡¯t glowing white, I took the opportunity to test Necrotizing Bolt against my creation¡¯s breath. I had expected no result, as it was (to my mind) meant more for organic material. I should have learned from the spell¡¯s effect on stone, it could turn it to dust as its withering effect had some component of time to it. The flames sputtered and sparked, burning its mana-fuel in no time at all, but only in the cone affected by the spell. Crash. I had slammed, with the sound of crumpling bone, against the far wall in the wide open tunnel. Too intrigued by the results of my test I had failed to notice the dead end. I looked to the left and right where two streams of filth continued on a circular course. I was unable to follow either path however as the fierce lady had drawn in, one white glowing wing covering each direction. Having hemmed in her unfortunate prey she took to gloating: ¡°I have learned much in the land of my ancestors, I should have no trouble extinguishing the spark of your soul with a single attack.¡± She proceeded to rear back her white glowing jaws, attacking a target which had no escape, me! Chapter 36: Death Chapter 36: Death The Dragon Struck down at me again. I used Shocking Aura to disrupt her maw. It worked for a moment but she was expecting it. This time, the spell-disturbing effect lasted for less than a second and I was forced to dodge out of her head before the effect expired. She reared back to try again. Time for a new experiment! I thought, running the calculations in my head as fast as I could. She lunged in again and, out of time, I activated it. Using what I had seen of the spell shape for Shocking Aura and Necrotizing Bolt I attempted to make my very first original spell using this world''s magic. One moment a Dragon''s teeth were bearing down towards me, the next everything was white. I found myself, yet again, in my tower. What had I done wrong? I questioned internally as I paced up and down the experimentation chamber, fleshy feet slapping against the stone floor. This being a soul space, I was able to recreate the spell exactly - without having to bear any of the consequences. Why does it explode? I thought, walking around the spell shape I had projected out of my body and onto a dummy. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± I exclaimed aloud in a eureka moment. ¡°Of course, I had used more from the Shocking Aura spell than I wanted and the lightning was interfering with the stability of the Spell, causing mana to fall into its favourite state - an explosion. I figured out the issue just in time as the world, once again, turned white. I found myself in a crater at the end of a sewer tunnel, a ring of fire surrounding me. As pieces reattached I noticed that the armour had remained summoned despite being blasted apart along with my bones. Perhaps this is a way to bypass the restrictions of the Spell? It appears the dragon¡¯s soul had been blown away by the explosion but she would no doubt return from whatever bit of fire she had taken host in, shortly. I noticed, in passing, an odd thing about the flames about me. They flickered and burned as if in slow motion. I ripped my attention from it, I didn¡¯t have the time. Reconstructing the spell shape as it had been in my soul space I activated the construction. Congratulations: The rock beneath me began to crack and crumble, even under the low powered version I had started with. I smiled at my success. But the hole I was standing in beginning to fill in with sewer water and an earth shattering roar convinced me it was time to get moving. Using a combination of my new Spell (to erode the rock in an area around me) and Wind Breath to propel me forward, I was quickly able to tunnel out into the earth. I had hoped this idea might have given me more time to think of my next move but the orange glow at the start of my tunnel turning to red showed me that the dragon was still in hot pursuit. The chase began anew. It continued for some time as she slowly shortened the distance between us. My low mana meant my options were limited but I still wanted to use this opportunity to learn as much as I could about this world''s magic since my big mouth had put talking out of the question. I tried moving closer to the surface but the dragon''s flames made quicker work of the loose soil than the lower rock so I dove back down. Without a proper flight spell I wasn¡¯t going to risk aerial combat with a dragon. Although the thought me an idea. I led the gaining beast deep into the earth before erupting upwards, hoping the sudden change in direction would give me more time to test my idea. Unfortunately she was no greenhorn and caught onto the tactic quickly. I went upwards too fast and ended up shooting out of the ground. It was dark with heavy clouds above. Rain pelted down, cleaning my reassembled armour. I only had a second to feel relieved at the lack of dirt and humanoid waste when the fire dragon burst forth from the earth like an apocalyptic geyser. Shooting myself back over what appeared to be a graveyard I had just gone under, I anticipated my trajectory as I tried again to use Wind Domain. A veteran of battle, the dragon didn¡¯t let the change of scenery, nor the rain evaporating off her and draining her mana, slow her in the least. She launched another enhanced claw straight at me. This time, when it drew near I used my hand to extend my Wind Domain to meet it. As before, when the fire met the vacuum I created with the spell it winked out but its heat continued forward. Expecting this, I created a pocket of enriched air. I had shunted all the air out my domain and to the right of my outstretched right hand bones, held in place by a circular pattern of Wind Breaths. For a moment, I thought my idea was incorrect and my bones were about to be turned to dust. My unprotected right hand began to blacken and I cursed myself for not using my armoured left in the tenths of a second I had to think. I was, however, proven correct. The body of heat, being of a fiery nature, found the pocket of concentrated air and rushed out of the vacuum. From afar it may have looked as if the attack was deflected if it weren''t for the fact the starved flames suddenly came upon a feast of air and doubled in size. The Explosion, not as large as before nor confined to the tunnel, had less of an impact. Still, I was sent spinning to the earth. I felt freshly turned soil for a second before my still active Necrotizing Aura turned it to dust, sending me back under. The Wind Domain and Aura seemed to conflict somehow, doubling the nausea and disorientation. I, once again, released my domain; only to realise someone had been saying something. No, screaming something over the storm. Looking up from my freshly re-dug grave, I saw a pair of silhouettes framed by the fiery dragon above, still off balance from the missed attack. ¡°You!¡± the figure accused, but I heard no more as I melted my way through something goopy before it turned to dust. Emerald filled the hole above and quickly the two humanoid figures were replaced by the head of an enraged reptile. The underground chase was back on. Trying to play for time as I struggled to think of my next experiment I rooted my way back down into the tunnel the dragon had melted in the rock. As she sped after me, wings melting the tunnel wider as she flew, I evaluated our mana levels. I was at about a quarter full but the constant drain of melting through earth had left the dragon at about half her original mana. That won¡¯t do at all! I thought, I¡¯ll have to stick to existing tunnels from here on. There was only one problem with that plan, without the earth to slow her she was faster than me and gaining quickly. I used Rock Trow to collapse the tunnel behind me several times but with limited success. It did however give me the time to try my next test; throwing rocks. The mana infused stone didn¡¯t really do much when it came in contact with the mana infused beast - melting the same as any other rock. I did, however, still feel a connection to the spell as it turned to lava and I got an idea. Miles had passed in minutes and I found myself, yet again, in the sewer system. This time, however, the Dragon didn¡¯t have to melt her way about and was focused on speed. For every two feet I travelled she gained one. She was 100 feet away when my next test was ready. Using the spell shape for Rock Throw but altering it in the way I had seen the mana naturally change when turning rock to lava. I closed my eye holes tightly, expecting another boom - it never came. A glob of magma was spat at the dragon and¡­ absorbed? Congratulations: The rock cooled rapidly and shattered but the heat was absorbed by the creature of flame, slightly increasing her overall temperature. While this was fascinating, she had gained 50 feet and was closing fast. Still in the open tunnel, she was able to move freely. I had become too caught up in my testing and the nearest narrow tunnel was out of range. I looked up, thinking to try the same thing as before. I shot several Necrotizing Bolts up at the roof of the arched tunnel to weaken the way forward and speed my passage. I expected to break free from the rock shelf, blast through dirt, and make it to the surface. Insead I blasted through into a forest of white waving tendrils. I didn¡¯t have time to wonder as the dragon was hot on my heels, shooting another flame breath that destroyed the feelers. I was disoriented for a moment before I looked up and learned that we were still underground. That moment cost me however. I was barely able to dodge an enhanced tail strike as the dragon clawed her way up into the cavern. I leaned back but it scored a line through my helmet and chard a scar above and below my eye socket. I was thankful for two things; that I didn¡¯t feel pain, and that she hadn¡¯t hit any of the runes which enhanced my bones. I shot myself up with an overpowered Wind Breath and the dragon opened her wings to follow. I glanced back - bursting through the roof of the cavan, the floor was burning but I glimpsed a strange sight through the flames: a cottage that seemed untouched by the fire. I shook my head at the ridiculous thought. I broke free into the night air at last, but I hadn¡¯t gone 20 feet into the sky before an explosion rocked me from the side. It was followed by another brightly coloured blast from my left then my right. All colours broke around me reminding me of the mage artillery on battlefields long ago; except I had always been the one launching them not caught up in them. This attack cost me. The dragon launched up from beneath the ground, wings outstretched in a regal display. Unable to make her out from the expanding flames which filled the air, I didn''t see her till it was too late. A fiery jaw clamped down on my left foot and despite the intangible nature of fire I was yanked down towards the main body. ¡°Shit!¡± was all I could think to say. ? Dante was nervous; he was nervous when he had been dressed like a lord, he was nervous when he was led down to the ballroom, arm in arm with a relaxed and somehow excited Alma, he was nervous when the footman asked their names so they may be announced. He gave only his first name so as not to cause confusion. Unfortunately, this made him the least important guest in the eyes of the nobility so, when they were immediately let in, they were loudly announced to no one - save the quartet of musicians who were still tuning their instruments. Dante was briefly stunned upon stepping into the room as the decadence floored him. The rest of the manor had been grand but not to this extent. The floor was polished patterned marble. The ceiling held a mural of a war between shadow and light, with the darkness slightly ahead. All the fittings were gilded. The walls displayed elaborate frescoes depicting independent scenes which reflected the greater image on the ceiling, duels and such. A buffet table was laid out all along one ridiculously long wall, all kinds of food Dante had never heard of were neatly arranged into any number of diplayes. 20 foot floor-to-ceiling red velvet drapes framed equally large windows made from tiny panes about the size of his palm. The pair drifted over to them and looked out. The room was on the second floor and they could look out over not only the elaborate gardens and courtyard where the commoners were beginning to flood, but also most of the city - glistening with magical lights in the darkness. They were left alone for only a few minutes before the next least important couple was announced. As two-by-two the nobles entered Dante wanted nothing more than to exit onto a balcony, descend one of the attached stairways and get lost in the gardens. He had seen, to the left, a hedge maze. Alma was all too eager to mingle with the guests before the dancing; so, reluctantly, he did so too. The couples arrived as: man and woman, man and man, woman and woman, elf and dwarf, and any variation thereupon. But they separated into groups of men and women to discuss whatever it was nobles talked about. Alma left to join the women and Dante was left, an awkward addendum to the male cliques. The only reason he hadn¡¯t left was that Sqwent assured him, the person who¡¯s mana he had felt, who was somehow connected to his dead mother, was here at the ball. Alma had been worried about coming here, since she had been trapped in the basement. But the few vampires who did recognize her dared not act and make a scene. Dante¡¯s mysterious connection didn¡¯t appear until near the end of the list, amongst the other Ghibellines. ¡°Alighiero Ghibellines,¡± announced a footman as the giant doors once more swung silently open. Dante looked up from the throng of noblemen of all races and was just about able to make out a man with brown hair and blue eyes that matched his own. Sqwent confirmed it, that was the man he was looking for. He tried to make his way over to him to talk but the man was of the hosting family and consequently swarmed by petitioners and well-wishers alike. Before long, the last of the guests, a king or some such, was announced and the dancing was to begin. Dante had lost this opportunity to talk but he was determined to seize the next. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Dante had been trained to dance at the Bards college and was considered to be a better dancer than a performer by his professors, not that that would be saying much. Alma on the other hand had no idea how to dance and the situation was made worse by the pair''s distraction. Dante kept looking over to where the mysterious man he felt he knew was dancing while Alma kept glancing in the other direction at a tall slender woman with a pale complexion and blonde hair. The Dancing seemed to take an age but at some undetectable signal, the nobles began drifting over to either the buffet table or the balconies and the gardens beyond. Both of the pair¡¯s targets went to the gardens and they followed suit. They were separated at the bottom of the stares: Dante¡¯s prey went left, toward the hedge maze - a woman on his arm - Alma¡¯s went right into the rose arches, a man on hers. Dante became lost in the maze, Sqwent could tell him the direction but not how to navigate the dead ends. He laid eyes upon his mark - reflected in them, a myriad of colours. Dantes gaze followed the pairs as they looked up at the fireworks, while impressive he was about to ignore them and press on when all of a sudden a dragon made of flame burst up from below and left Dante speechless at the incredible details in the display. ? The teeth dug viciously into my left ankle boneplate, I looked down and through the bombardment could see some kind of party below. This city loves to party, I thought, my mind in a mild panic. I tried to break free by pushing myself in all directions with Wind Breath but it didn¡¯t help. Each influx of wind only tightened her grip. The armour on my leg had begun blackening and turning to smoke. Her whole body started to turn white hot. It was too late for me to use Shocking Aura, I might fall straight into her body and burn to a crisp. With only 5% of my mana left I thought desperately for a solution. Despite my struggles I was brought ever closer to the glowing beast. My armour had nearly completely evaporated and my foot was about to be turned to dust. Just then, a pillar of light shot down from the clouding sky - striking the dragon in the neck and momentarily disrupting the construct''s form. It was enough. With a judicious use of Wind Breath I was able to break free and was sent flying across the night¡¯s sky. I looked up to see the origin of the attack and saw nothing. I looked down and could see a glowing golden figure ascending to join the fray. The dragon noticed it too and seemed to bubble over with rage, if she had a calmer head she may have forgiven the attack and sought an ally in the newcomer. Dragons, however, are not known for their kind and forgiving nature. Her pride and arrogance led her to expend the energy she had been gathering and that she had gained from the light into a beam style flame attack shot down at the ascending knight. Being the valiant sort, the interloper wasn¡¯t able to dodge, behind him a manor full of people watched on in awe. He summoned a shield of solidified light but as soon as the attack began I could tell it wouldn¡¯t hold. I was about to let fate take its course when a familiar face below, amongst the hedges, caught my eye. It did so as it was about the only one not focused on the display overhead. Instead Dante was talking animatedly with an older man. Cursing myself for a fool I used another Wind Breath to dart in and aid the stranger. I drew close to the clash of spells which gave off so much energy that I nearly was sent flying from the mana turbulence alone. The mix of light-mana and fire-mana gave me an idea however. ¡°Do you have any mana-infused glass?¡± I asked the figure, with a childish enthusiasm at my latest plan. I was barely audible over the keening sound of the two spells striking each other. ¡°What?¡± he shouted, clearly confused by the question. The armour and voice all of a sudden clicked in my head and I recognized him as the Paladin we had met on the road. ¡°Orlando, mana-infused glass!¡± I called out. He looked at me for a second, clearly not recognizing me. Then he took one hand from the shield, causing it to crack all the faster and retrieved from a pouch at his waist, a small circular disk and tossed it to me. I bobbed up and down in the air, held aloft with Wind Breath - I nearly missed the monocle, fumbling the catch, before hooking it with a boneplated foot. Examining it quickly, I could tell it was a monocle designed to identify magic items. It would do perfectly for my purpose. With each second that passed the shield cracked further but I worked without pause. floating up any bit of stonework I could find loose below, even a loose roof tile, I began engraving glyphs on them. ¡°I can finally fly!¡± cried one bit of stone, when it drew closer I saw a stone gargoyle, covered in bird poop flapping his sculpted wings. I dropped the figure, not wanting the magic to interfere with my spell. This seemed to only excite the figure further: ¡°Weeee!¡± Shatter. Each piece of now enchanted stone was then held in a circular pattern about the impact site. Despite clearly being up to something, the dragon continued the beam attack, no doubt spurred on by the sound of cracking glass which filled the night and was echoed by cries of fear and alarm below. I held the monocle off to the side, one side aimed perpendicular to the beam at the point of impact, the other off into the night. I began chanting, the spell I was using was an amplification spell, as I had so little mana I was forced to use mostly the mana given off by the two spells colliding. Inspired by my earlier move with Wind Domain I prayed this would work. The spell began as it should, absorbing the excess mana from the clashing spells and directing it to the monocle creating a new ray of both fire and light which shot out into the air. As I had seen when learning Shocking Aura, mana in this world almost had momentum. Soon the spell wasn¡¯t satisfied with just the excess and started eating away at the two other spells. Seeing this the Dragon tried to redirect her attack but the interaction between the three spells couldn¡¯t be broken so easily. Suddenly Orlando¡¯s shield broke and the balance was upset. I saw a gleam of victory in the emerald flames. Orlando however was not beaten so easily. He put himself at the focus of the ring of stones and allowed the weakened beam attack to strike in the centre of his golden breastplate. It didn¡¯t take long before all the mana was sucked from the spell and through the monocle, out harmlessly into the air. Boom, an earth shattering sound rang out, shortly followed by an earthquake. I turned in the direction of the sound. The spell I had created had worked better than intended. Although the light and fire beam had started the size of a monocle by the time it had reached the mountains on the horizon it had grown rapidly. One mountain in particular had gained a hole large enough to see through from here and gravity wasn¡¯t happy about the sudden change. The top had caved in causing an explosion that could be felt from here, miles away. Again my distraction nearly cost me for the dragon had taken the opportunity to come in close for an attack. Enraged by the failed attack she was now white hot, burning mana constantly. Clang. Her claw bounced off a shining golden greatsword raised in my defence. ¡°Thanks,¡± I hailed. Glad the Paladin had survived. Checking everyone¡¯s condition things were dire. Although at first glance Orlando appeared unscathed, swinging his sword clearly pained him. His chest was no doubt burned. The Dragon was at a third of her original mana but I however was at a measly 1 percent. I had to be careful even using Wind Breath to keep me aloft. With the first symptoms of mana poisoning setting in, I was left dazed for a moment as the Paladin fought tooth and claw, sword and dagger against the dragon. Each blow sends sparks and shock waves across the city below. Thunder. The last shockwave came not from the fight but the heavens and their opening splashed me with water bringing me back to my scenes. The storm I had seen over the graveyard had reached us. The heavy rain slowed the dragon and depleted her mana faster but the Paladin was tiring faster still. The time for experiments was over, if I did nothing my master''s old friend would kill me and a rather kind Paladin. Well maybe there was time for just one more. ¡°Silver!¡± I called out into the now hazy night as I fought the rain to stay aloft. I could only guess where Orlando was by where the dragon''s attacks were aimed. My guess was confirmed by an answering grunt through the shower. Again thunder boomed drowning out anything he may have said. ¡°I need silver,¡± I elaborated, staving off an oncoming drowsiness. There was no answer. A tail swung sparking off a sword which revealed for a second the haggard form of Orlando. At some point he had lost his helmet and blood dripped down his face, washed away only to be replaced each second. I thought he might not have heard me and I was about to call again when a whooshing sound came through the darkness. I strained my eyes but couldn¡¯t see a thing. Suddenly a burning feeling overtook me and I nearly lost concentration, which would have made me fall from the sky. Looking down I saw a pure silver sword sprouting from my chest. It had gone straight through my bone chest plate and was stuck between my ribs, unable to damage them but hurting as much as holy water. I withdrew the enchanted weapon, the handle thankfully coated with leather. ¡°Sorry,¡± came an honest apology through the night. When I didn¡¯t reply it was followed with; ¡°Are you well?¡± in between frantic exchanges. ¡°Fine,¡± I shouted back through gritted teeth. This only prevocated a good natured laugh from the insane Paladin who seemed to be enjoying his fight. The Dragon, frustrated with the pace, took the opportunity to dart towards me. ¡°I need more than this,¡± I called back, afraid to ask but in need. The Dragon swooped in on me and I let go of my wind spell, dropping like a stone - pushed faster by the monsoon. Still I was barely able to evade, my helmet scraping her white hot underbelly. As I fell, something hit me in the chest - not a sword this time thankfully. I grasped at it, finding Orlando¡¯s pouch, a spatial bag. For a moment I was overcome with a longing for my spatial rings, containing tons of spell components, that were lost to the abyss. ¡°There¡¯s more in there,¡± the trusting Paladin replied, resuming his battle with the beast. I held my lower altitude as I rummaged through the pouch. Searching, I was able to find a dozen silver swords in total. Each enchanted to slay the undead, though they wouldn¡¯t work on me. I stayed below the fighters as I began floating the swords in as large a circle as I could manage, about 500 feet in diameter. I ascended with the circle of silver swords until we were at a level with the fighters, putting them in a mid air ring. Too focused on their frantic battle, neither noticed. I checked how everything was going: Orlando¡¯s left arm was hanging limply at his side but it hadn¡¯t seemed to slow his glowing golden form. The Dragon was down to a quarter of her original mana, but I was down to 0.5 percent mana. My head began to throb but I continued my preparations. I moved each limb and chanted to focus my mana into a seven layer spell. With the tiniest amount of mana possible put into each part. I connected to the storm. 0.3 percent mana. I felt each inch of the cloud¡¯s expanse. 0.1 percent mana. I started draining the mana into the conduits. 0 mana, there wasn¡¯t enough left, the storm pulled back and what little mana had started to move into the swords was removed. I felt my body start to fall as gravity took over. Is this it? I thought in the sudden stillness that enveloped me. I¡¯m to die here, having escaped death once? My mind cast back to when I had first gained my tower. Other Archmagi used theirs as fortresses or symbols of power but I was just excited to have a place where I could run my experiments in peace without fear of destroying the building. That was all I¡¯d ever wanted to learn. Learning was all I needed to make me happy. When I had become undead I had not despaired, when I had fallen into a totally different world seemingly controlled by a system I had not feared, these were opportunities to learn and fulfil my dream. Now, completely bereft of mana and about to be killed by a flame dragon born of my own curiosity, was it not also a perfect time to learn. All this happened in less than the blink of an eye. Drawing strength from a source I knew not before today, I halted my momentum and that of the sword circle with another Wind Breath it was more powerful than I expected and I was nearly sent flying. Congratulations: Inky blackness billowed out from me, covering my armour in a suspended fluid that floated with me. The disruption hadn¡¯t been long enough to cancel the spell and I returned to it. Mana flooded the swords so easily I might have thought this was a cantrip. With every passing second however I felt less and less¡­ me. Apathy threatened to overtake me but my excitement for the outcome of this new spell was able to overcome it for now. The power of the storm fell so quickly into my spell that I was surprised when it overloaded and backed up into my vessel. Instead of popping, as I expected, the inkyness around me absorbed it and turned into a cloak of dense lightning clouds. Congratulations: The dragon caught Orlando off guard with an overhead tail swipe, causing him to disappear, cratering a potting shed below. She turned to me, blazing with anger. She was littered with scars which for some reason would not heal, steam billowed off her forming a shroud which trailed her much as my cloak of storms did. ¡°YOU MUST DIE!¡± She hissed in a bellowing fashion between wheezing breaths. Pain tinged her words, and clearly not just physical. She charged at me, each beat of her wings diverting sheets of rain. I hovered firm, having finished my spell work. When she was 100 feet away I held my hand to the sky. The storm calmed, rain stopped and the clouds began to lighten. She sped up with the lack of rain. When she was 50 feet away I lowered my right hand extending an exposed distal phalanx at her. Nothing happened but my expression didn¡¯t change. When she was within ten feet I could see the premature victory in her eyes. I was no longer able to muster fear or excitement as the spell finally activated when she was a breath away. Each of the swords, crackling with lightning, pointed at the dragon. Beams of purple lightning laced through her form, freezing her in place. She spasmed as parts of her disappeared and reappeared, her soul holding desperately to the manifestation. Just as it looked as though she would endure, I drew my hands back and clapped. From my hands burst forth a shockwave, the thunder to a thousand lightning strikes. Across the city windows shattered in protest. Her form was finally dispelled. Blown apart into sparks. Her screams of pain and defiance ceased. A spark floated past my ear and replaced the sound with a final whispered message: ¡°Please, if there is anyone who you care for in this world, choose death.¡± Even I, with my lack of social skills and through the fog of apathy could hear the pain that was held in that simple message. It felt as though I could maintain my Wind Breath forever but I knew I shouldn¡¯t. When I released it I dropped like a brick. I landed lightly on a large balcony. Getting up I fought off pain burning up every inch of me. Looking around there were a number of well dressed people of all races who seemed stunned into silence. Seemingly out of habit one rather portly looking bearman offered me a glass of wine as I stumbled about trying to walk it off. At least I think it was at one point wine, staying out in the rain had replaced it with water. The crowd looked up at something and the stunned silence was replaced with raucous cheering. I looked up, still moving about awkwardly in an attempt to quell the pain. Orlando landed beside me, despite the battle he looked every inch the Paladin. The blood, bruises, and dented armour only complementing his wide white smile. I cursed, the pain only growing worse. To this crowd I had already become an afterthought but not to Orlando. ¡°Please, let my goddess heal you,¡± the Paladin said in a reassuring tone, indicating what must have looked like severe injuries. An arm burned to the blackened bone and an eye struck and evaporated. I may have agreed, so convincing was he, if it were not for the constant pain. ¡°No,¡± I snapped, pulling my hand out of his grasp. He wore a puzzled expression. Before I had a chance to explain a number of things happened at once. The duration on my Bone Armour spell ended and the plates receded back through a portal to the underworld. The crowd began to gasp. A golden light overtook the Paladin¡¯s eyes and he swung faster than he had in the battle with the dragon. The last thing I saw was my body flying away beneath me. The last thing I heard was a single cry from somewhere below. The last thing I thought was he¡¯s wearing a wig! before blackness finally claimed me. Epilogue Epilogue I awoke in darkness to the sound of metal clanging on stone. I tried to stand but couldn¡¯t. I felt as though I had been rolled through a mangle, my loosely connected bones feeling like powder. ¡°Hey you, you''re finally awake.¡± Came Orlando¡¯s voice in response to my pained grunting. ¡°What happened?¡± I slurred through the worst hangover imaginable. I felt as though I would be sick which led my mind to sluggishly ponder what a skeleton throwing up may look like. ¡°Is he alright?¡± A young woman''s voice came from the darkness. My Life Sense began to return in a haze of swimming monotone. I vaguely remembered the woman¡¯s voice and her plain white robe seemed familiar but I couldn¡¯t place her. The sight of a dark elf similarly attired behind her set more bells to ringing and I was forced to squeeze my eye holes shut to stop the infernal clanging. I tried to block out more of the ever-brightening life out with a hand, but I was met again with the infamous sound of metal clanging. I braved opening my sockets once more and looked to my left, only to see I was chained to the wall of a dank dungeon, the walls carved from the rock. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that¡­ and the earlier incident.¡± The Paladin apologies sheepishly. Outside of others attention the man seemed to lack his large and confident persona. The words took time to penetrate my thick skull and as they did I looked blearily about the room, only able to focus on one thing at a time. As far as I could tell there were only three¡­ maybe four people around me, all church members. I was trapped in a cell, probably underground. I might have seen more cells across an open cavern, each barred with iron, but it was hard to tell. If this was a prison then I was the only occupant judging by the relative quiet - which I was most thankful for. ¡°You decapitated me?¡± I half stated half questioned, finally recalling my last moments. The dark elf seemed uncomfortable at the semi assertion but neither of the younger clergy said anything, leaving what may be an interrogation to their senior. ¡°Why?¡± I asked when no response was forthcoming. ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± he replied, surprising me not only with his sombre tone. He crouched to look me in the skull as I was chained in a sitting position. At that moment I just wanted to cast a spell to break free so I might meet the man eye to eye. Unfortunately I was beyond mana poisoning at this point, I was likely suffering from soul sickness. Even looking at mana may cause me to pass out. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°Explain.¡± I instructed as the room continued to spin. ¡°I will,¡± he replied, not losing his serious heir, ¡°but first I have to ask you; were you the one who summoned that dragon?¡± A moment passed where all I could hear was the young lady¡¯s nervous fidgeting. I thought of lying but I really wasn¡¯t up to the mental effort. ¡°I was testing a spell I¡¯ve been waiting years to use.¡± I tried to explain. The woman gasped and the elf huffed as if to show that he had expected as much, although he wasn¡¯t fooling anyone. ¡°I see.¡± Was all the Paladin said in reply, his tone flat. ¡°Normally I would have you tried in front of a council, but the church would have too much sway and in this city I don¡¯t trust them.¡± ¡°What about us?¡± The woman asked. Orlando''s expression changed to that of a warm smile as he looked upon the pair. ¡°I can see into the hearts of people and I know that I can trust you.¡± He replied sincerely. The dark elf lad blushed at this and looked away. ¡°Anyhow,¡± Orlando continued, turning back to my sorry bones, ¡°I shall have to keep you locked up until such time as you might have a fair trial. I have seen your magic and I have no doubt once you regain it you could break out of any jail so I¡¯m sorry but I¡¯ll be forced to dismantle you.¡± I lowered my head in mild shame, it had been quite some time since I had felt so chastised for one of my experiments I had almost forgotten the embarrassment. The dark elf seemed annoyed at the stated outcome. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just judge him? You are a Paladin.¡± he said. ¡°I was getting to that.¡± Orlando replied without an ounce of annoyance at the young elf¡¯s tone. ¡°I can not trust myself to be a fair judge.¡± There was confusion on the faces of his followers. ¡°My powers are great but they come with some small drawbacks.¡± This seemed to shock the pair, clearly it wasn¡¯t common knowledge. ¡°The Light inside me has a violent reaction whenever I look upon what I know to be undead. I can suppress it now but you caught me by surprise earlier, exhausted by the battle I was unable to quell the Light¡¯s wrath.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean the Light wants us to destroy that thing?¡± The elf asked, heated. Orlando placed a hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder to calm him and replied, ¡°You forget that I can see his true heart as well. From the first time we met in the forest I knew him not to be a villain. Although now I realise he may be working with a different moral compass.¡± ¡°What of Dante?¡± I asked groggily. My sight was again diming and I could feel the blackness once more creeping in. I hadn¡¯t meant to utter the words but they had left my jaw of their own accord. ¡°Dante?¡± The pair of youngins asked in joint surprise. ¡°The Bard who kept trying to get you released?¡± Orlando asked rhetorically. ¡° He kept singing your praises at what remained of the party until the nobles grew sick of his voice and threw him out on his ear. Since then I haven¡¯t heard of him; Why?¡± Orlando ended with suspicion. ¡°Hmm.¡± Was all I was able to muster in response through the growing lethargy. For some reason I felt happy, perhaps because my friend''s true nature hadn¡¯t been exposed. Unable to fight it off any longer, the darkness finally claimed me. Status 4.0
Status 4.0
Name: Osseus ?
Titles: Archmagus(ish)... : ¨‹
Archmagus(ish): Unique With the knowledge and experience one hundred times that of a common mage, and the power to match, one is granted the Title of Archmagus. Lacking experience in this worlds magic and with power still to be tested one (and only one) is granted the title Archmagus(ish). This Title grants: | 20 10 Intelligence | 20 10 Willpower | 20 10 Wisdom |
Spell Slinger: Common Able to use the most basic of proficiency, a Spell Slinger may be a novice mage or spell sword. This Title grants: | 2 Intelligence | 1 Willpower |
Savant I : Uncommon Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to a promising start. This Title grants: | +10% experience gain in Lich Class |
Savant II : Rare Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to an exceptional start. This Title grants: | +15% experience gain in Lich Class |
Detective: Rare Able to solve mysteries and bring ne''er-do-wells to justice. This title was awarded for completing the Quest: Murder at the vicarage. This title grants: | +10 perception I Ability to work on any murder case in the kingdom |
Soul Devourer: Epic Consuming the stuff of souls comes with both rewards and punishments | +20 inteligence I People who do not know you act negatively towards you |
Lord of Far-Reach Fort: Knight [locked] This is a lord title and grants the owner access to the settlement system. If owned this title is automatically selected but takes no title slots. This title grants: | access to the settlement system at Knight rank |
You currently have 3 Title slot(s) available
Race: Skeleton: ¨‹
Human Humans are one of the most prolific breeders in all the land. They come in a wide variety of colours and creeds and are able to take nearly any class and profession but have no innate talents for any. They are a short lived species of average height, not able to live more than a century without magical aid. Humans gain: | +10% Xp |
Zombie Zombies are the most common form of undead and can be made from most of the living races. They are known for they¡¯re lacking intelligence and undying strength and tenacity. Zombies gain. | +10 Strength | -10 Intelligence | Ravenous |
Skeleton Skeletons are an advanced form of undead, usually evolved from zombies. They typically have slightly more intelligence and agility and are harder to kill. Skeletons gain: | + 3 agility | -1 strength | Life Sense | Bone Claws | Bone Articulation |
Changing Race is incredibly uncommon and only usually happens as the result of a drastic physical change or magical mishap.
Class: Lich ¨‹
Lich: Rare Lv. 25 The Lich class has three requirements: 1. A Lich must have had a magic based class in life. 2. A Lich must be Undead. 3. A Lich¡¯s soul must have been detached from their body and attached to an item (this item can be the aforementioned body but it can also be changed). if the Lich class is available it is taken automatically. If all class slots are full it will replace your lowest Lv. class. Lich¡¯s use magic as their main form of attack, focusing on the death, poison, or elemental schools.
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ¨‹
No professions are currently available. Demonstrate aptitude in a given field to unlock a profession or apprentice under a Master. Three Profession slots are open.
Skills: SP - 1 ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.9 The undead have a natural hatred for all life, without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher level Undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Leveling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense.
Bone Claws: Lv.7 You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie making their attacks weaker but their bodies are far faster making slashing and piercing weapons an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Leveling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws.
Bone Articulation: Lv.12 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a skeleton''s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Leveling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate.
Identify: Lv.3 User can Identify the level, up to ten levels above themselves. At higher levels one can learn the targets highest leveled class, profession, title, even approximate health and stamina.
Conceal: Lv.3 Hide from other''s Identify type skills and spells. Doesn''t work if the other party''s skill is conciderably higher level.
Detection: Lv.1 When concentrating user can notice things others might miss. You alsogain an innate sense when things don''t quite add up. At higher levels the missing pieces are easier to spot and may even glow to your vision.
Passive skills:
Magically reinforced bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptised in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands a chance of damaging them. Be warned this does not increases the strength of your bones'' connections.
Water Resistance: Lv.1 Chosen as the Lv.10 Lich class ability. This ability grants a resistance to water based attacks. Additionally movement is less impeded by water/rain. Level is increased by resisting water.
Soul Manipulation: Lv.10 Chosen as the Lv.20 Lich class ability. This ability grants the user the means to see souls and manipulate them in a rudimentary fashion at higher levels a practicer of soul manipulation might rip the soul out of one adversary, bend it to their will, then send it after another. This skill increases with use. Be warned manipulating souls can have irreversible side effects. It is advised not to use this on yourself or friends until it reaches Lv.25.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase skill levels.
Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.10 (max) Folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point one can create a projectile of necrotising energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Bone Armour: Intermediate Lv.20 (max) Lv.15 Class Spell. This Spell summons bones from the netherworld to serve as armour. The higher one''s level the thicker or stronger the armour is, depending on caster.
Death''s Touch: Advanced Lv.1 Lv.25 Class Spell. This Spell kills anything that does not resist with but a touch. Increasing the level decreases the mana consumption and increases the level of target that the spell works on.
Learned Spells:
Wind Breath: Basic Lv.5 Melding one''s mana with the air round them allows one to create small gusts of wind. Sutable for moving small objects. The strength and accuracy of the spell is increased with each level.
Wind Blade: Intermediate Lv.3 Sharpening the air with one''s mana onc can create a blade from nothing but wind. Properly used this can even cut through steel.
Rock Throw: Intermediate Lv.1 Pulling from the earth one can shape a projectile from rock. This is a simple attack spell for earth mages and is very versatile.
Magma Lob: Intermediate Lv.2 A super heated version of Rock Throw this spell does what is says on the tin, perfect for when things are heating up.
Shocking Aura: Advanced Lv.3 Pulsing one''s mana in and out of their skin rapidly creates an electrical aura. The power and radius of the aura are increased with level.
Necrotising Aura: Advanced Lv.4 Withers everything in an area about the caster. This spell is more mana intensive than Necrotising Bolt but covers a larger area, perfect if one finds oneself trapped in the belly of a beast.
Illusionary Skin: Expert Lv.9 Pulsing ones mana gently and continuously around one''s skin (or bones) creates an illusionary skin atop the original. The complexity of this spell allows for one to change: skin colour, hair pigmentation, eye colour, and scars/tattoos so long as they are only skin deep. This is a channelling type spell and requires a constant flow of mana to function.
Earth Golem: Expert Lv.1 Shape the earth to your will, then give it one of its own. This spell has two parts, first one can shape the earth into whatever form they prefer, then one can breath life into their creation. Higher levels of this spell lower the mana cost and increase the amount of mass which can be animated.
Wind Domain: Master Lv.1 A master ranked spell that puts all the wind within one''s domain under one''s command. This spell is tricky to use because the air in the area of affect becomes part of the caster for the duration on the spell. However when mastered one becomes effectively the only wind mage within their domain.
Storm Cloak: Unique Become the storm.
Attributes: AP - 0 ¨‹
Strength: 10 (-1) Strength determines how hard one hits, and how much force one can exert and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 11 (+3) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Charisma and its effects are inverted among the undead.)
Perception: 11 Perception affects reaction speeds and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 (+1) Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 30 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
Prologue Lv.2 Lich Prologue Time had flown by, indeterminate as it was in this place. It may have been months, it may have been days. My compulsive experimentation didn¡¯t help my tenuous grasp on the construct of human perception. In this soul space I was able to test the limits of the new magic I had discovered in Cosmo-Osteo. In the past as soon as one question had been answered I rushed to answer the next, often neglecting sleep and sustenance. Without the need for either I would have thought that my arcane experimentation and documentation would be endless. And indeed I had fattened the library in my imaginary tower with all my theories and theorems. Yet something felt missing, I felt hollow. Nothing I was doing scratched the itch of my curiosity and soon I lost all momentum. One night, as my mind decided it was night, I simply stopped. I was halfway through a new inscription that would repair broken glass when it happened, for the first time in over a millenia I simply couldn¡¯t continue. Had I lost my resolve, my passion to learn at any cost? It had happened to other Archmagi, once they lost whatever spark drove them they stopped using the anti ageing spells and chose to die. I never thought that would be me. No, that wasn¡¯t me. My passion still burned, though my sight of it was clouded by a smokescreen of some emotion, I knew not what. Why? There was only really one answer. My recent adventures had lit a new passion in me, one for exploration and excitement. And, although I had distanced myself from such people in life, I was developing a liking for combat. Stuck in my soul space, with no means of escape until my earthly vessel was restored, these new embers were being suffocated before they could even burn. I set down my inscription tools. Closing my eyes I took a breath. When I opened them again I had changed the soul space to put me alone into the depths of space. I looked about, at the remembered constellations from my old planet. I thought it may be fuzzy in places but my subconscious appeared to have filled in the gaps. I let my eyes take in the expense as I floated, crossing my legs. I took a moment to luxuriate in the feeling of flesh about my bones once more. As my current problems rolled about the inside of my mind a memory struck me. My master¡¯s twinkling blue eyes poked out from his grey, hairy face. I was the only apprentice at the time, we sat cross legged atop a snowy mountain peak. I had been trying, unsuccessfully, for days to turn my unattributed mana into fire mana so that I may - with the aid of an ice-snake¡¯s tooth - finally warm myself. Each time I passed out from hypothermia my master would revive me with a smile and a wink saying, ¡°You¡¯ll get it next time.¡± After one particularly near death experience I stood in a fit of pique and threatened to jump from the peak. My master; who had been sat beside me the whole time, who didn¡¯t have a spell to protect him either, smiled a kindly smile before speaking plainly: ¡°Whenever I find myself at the end of my rope; I meditate, reset my mind and start anew.¡± ¡°Medicate?¡± I asked, never having heard of the idea. The old man chuckled before sitting me back down and instructing. As he taught I cleared my mind completely, focusing only on my breathings. I let all my worldly woe blow away on the frigid winds until there was nothing and my mind was an empty void. We spent days on that mountain and I never felt the cold. When I snapped out of it I was able to perform the spell without any issues. Since then I had forgotten the experience, possibly because of the weeks I spent in convalescence, suffering from frostbite. After that day I had returned to my rather bull headed approach of smashing my head into problems and hoping they broke before I did. Looking back I was surprised that it had worked for me this long. I giggled at the memory. Perhaps I should try meditating. Time being what it was, it did what it did and happened. I sat floating in space with an empty mind and turbulent heart. At some point, impossible to know when, the two became one. My consciousness seemed to fall into my frustrations and fears. Within this metaphorical heart I found myself, sitting in space, meditating. I could see myself from without. I began to try and focus and started to lose the image. Understanding instinctively, I stopped trying to control the vision. The perspective moved about the very real boundaries of my soul''s space. A spherical wall sat invisible about my body with only a 100 foot radius or so. It must move as I did throughout the soul space, or maybe it was the soul space? I tried to escape but there wasn¡¯t a single crack in the dome. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. My incorporeal form floated back towards my flesh sac and I noticed something. A dark purple gleam seemed to come from within my core. Curious, I tried to float into myself. I was sucked in as soon as I came in contact with my purple core. I was somewhere different, somewhere familiar. I was in the abyss, the space between space - what comes at the end of all things. Yet in my current state I felt no fear or pain. Unlike my physical form it appeared that the abyss had no effect on my spiritual projection. I turned around as best I could in a place with no sense of direction. Behind me I could see a purple core, exactly the same as the one within me. I moved into it and again sucked in. I found myself once more back in my soul space, my connection finally broke and I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realised I was holding. Looking out from my eyes at the start once more a smile tugged at my lips. If I¡¯d known that meditation could be the basis for some kind of astral projection I would have tried it months ago. I may now have a path to the abyss but that would satisfy my new found itch for adventure. There was nothing there, literally nothing, even the higher concepts of reality didn¡¯t exist there. Then again it was the nothing that resided between space. Did my soul space exist as an actual pocket of space within the abyss? Maybe I could use this. I settled in for another meditation session. It was easy enough the second time to find myself in that state of projection. Once more I entered myself and appeared in the abyss, a not black void of everything. It might be described as dark but not even the concept of light existed there. I spent some time trying to focus on my bones, on the world that I had left, on where I wanted to go. Before me, without any fanfare, there was suddenly a blue marble - as if it had always been there. It was of a similar size to my purple core, maybe slightly smaller, but it had far more detail. I saw my own core next to it, it had moved or not it was hard to tell in a space with no space. The blue marble, which I somehow knew was Cosmo-Osteo, had a white haze covering it in some places and the blue was broken up by irregular sections of green, brown and grey. At both the top and bottom were patches of white. I was looking at the entire planet. Again I reached into it with my intangible form and again I was sucked in. Before I entirely left the abyss I felt something cold brush past me. It gave me chills, all the more so since I had felt no sensation at all in my projected form until that point. It was over quickly and I was left wondering if it was my imagination. I was sent flying towards the planet in my spiritual form. Wind rushed past but I couldn¡¯t feel a thing as I remained intangible. I broke through the clouds and found myself looking down on a flat land. To the far west there were mountains that seemed to hold up the sky, one among their number appearing oddly short. To the east there was a great expanse of wild forest. To the north and south there was water as far as the eye could see. Directly below me and approaching fast were the roads and hamlets that acted as the mana paths and nodes of this kingdom. In its centre was a sprawling city, on the westside, slightly separated, was a castle half the size of the city itself. Beyond it there were other cities in the distance, before the mountains but they were too far away to see. I was dropping straight for the centre of the city; where, on a hill, sat a giant church and surrounding compound. I phased straight through the structure and found myself hurtling through a natural cavern. The walls were pocketed with long forgotten cells, the bars made of rusted iron. My projection ignored these and headed straight for a familiar looking cell. I zoomed through the bars, through a wooden chest with far too many padlocks and bounced off a familiar looking skull. The black runes and burned scar over one eye created quite the intimidating visage and for a moment I was shocked before I recognized myself. The strange pulling that had brought me here so quickly ceased. I could still feel a connection to my skull but it no longer tugged at me as I was unable to inhabit it. I gained a slight sense for my other pieces and they appeared to be separated in all directions and not at all. I tried to touch myself but being an immaterial spirit nothing happened. I floated my head back out of the sealed chest and examined it. It was made of oak and banded with iron. The locks were not only mundane but some were magical in nature. Around both the chest and the cell were wards which sustained themselves on the ambient mana. Thankfully they didn¡¯t impede my spirit, one was designed to obscure and the other to protect from magical attacks. Orlando clearly didn¡¯t want anyone putting me back together. Upon reflection I couldn¡¯t be overly mad at Paladin for summoning such a creature in the city. I might have expected him to have slain me on the spot. I floated out into the cavern, it appeared to have been long abandoned. The place hadn¡¯t seen life in quite some time. There was a buzzing then a sort of clicking sound. Connection reestablished. Congratulations: I was somewhat relieved at the message, in my soul space I could recreate the systems skills and spells with my imagination but I wasn¡¯t actually able to use them or level them up. I float away from the morbid place and along some tunnels and into the underground. Despite the destruction I had no doubt caused there, the almost sentient group of tunnels seemed to have healed themselves. I soon became lost and tried to strike the wall in frustration, I went straight through it. Cursing myself for a fool I floated up through the ground and found myself in the heart of a bustling street. I tried instinctively to dodge a carriage that rumbled through me. I looked about in wonder, seeing the vibrant city with new eyes. No one looked back, in my current state I was less tangible than a ghost. None the less my new found passion for adventure and excitement was thrumming and I couldn''t wait to explore the city in my new form. Chapter 1: The Tower I Chapter 1: The Tower I I spent the next few days floating about the city. I tried to discover what had become of my Bardic friend but I couldn¡¯t find hide nor hair of him. I avoided returning to the church for fear there may be a Paladin there that could see me. The city was abuzz with news that the term at Woden¡¯s castle had once more begun. This combined with the repairs that had been made to the city led me to believe that I had been gone for some time. With the school on my mind I floated over to see if I might impose on a lesson or two, one is never too old to learn after all. Unfortunately when I came within 10 feet of the castle¡¯s complex I was rebuffed by a ward. Try as I might there were no cracks above or below. I had just given up and was floating, annoyed, by the staircase which led to the main entrance when something or rather someone caught my eye. Three lads, two of which I thought I recognized, were leaving the building by the main gate. They walked through the ward and I could see them better. Although one did carry a staff and another a wand they weren''t the boys I thought they were that said given their striking resemblance they may be related. The two wood wielding boys seemed to be comforting the younger looking lad in their centre. The central boy appeared maybe 14 with short black hair and circular glasses. ¡°Nevermind, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get in next year.¡± The wand wielding comforter said. ¡°Yeah Hal, all your test scores were perfect, your mana pool was only a touch too low. Come next year you¡¯ll be golden then you can show those professors what a mistake they made in not accepting you sooner.¡± the staff wielding lad added. The pair were wearing manticore robes the same as my one time students but the rather sickly looking boy between them was wearing plain black robes. They walked down the path towards the city and I floated behind them. Hal didn¡¯t respond for a while, he looked as though all his dreams had been shattered. ¡°I can¡¯t go back.¡± he finally said in a meek voice. ¡°What?¡± Staff asked, either not hearing him or not understanding. ¡°I promised my family I would get in, whatever it took. I¡¯ll look like such a fool. My father said I didn¡¯t have the talent for it. I simply can''t go back.¡± He moaned, shaking his head before placing it in his hands. ¡°Then don¡¯t.¡± Staff said. ¡°What?¡± Both Hal and Wand asked in unison. ¡°Just don¡¯t go home. Stay in Wiccawich for a year until you¡¯re accepted. Your family doesn¡¯t have to know.¡± Staff said. Wand looked at the boy incredulously. ¡°He can¡¯t lie to his family like that.¡± Wand said. ¡°No, I can. That¡¯s a great idea.¡± Hal responded, lighting up at the thought. ¡°How will you live without your family''s support?¡± Wand added. Hal¡¯s face fell at the realisation. ¡°He can become an adventurer!¡± Staff retorted with growing excitement. ¡°You¡¯re a good enough fire mage to make a killing as an adventurer.¡± Wand tried to convince him it was too dangerous but the idea had become set in the young man¡¯s mind. While they talked I noticed something interesting. Staff had called Hal a fire mage and neither of them disputed it. He wasn¡¯t, looking at his mana core I could tell his mana was naturally unattributed just like my own. Unattributed mana tended to change based on what was around it, if he only practised fire magic it might appear that he had an incredibly small fire mana pool. Assuming one is not looking for pure mana. I wondered if the lad knew what an incredibly rare gift he had or if he thought he was a fire mage. If the professors had known they would have snatched him up in a heartbeat. Then again not even I had met another like me. Feeling a kindred spirit in the boy I followed him. When the three reached the city gate the two students were turned away as per the city¡¯s agreement Woden¡¯s students were not allowed in when school was in session. I followed Hal as he headed, with some life back in his step, toward the adventures guild. I was surprised to see, when he entered, that Loretta wasn¡¯t at the front desk. Instead one of her underlings was sitting there filing paperwork. Hal introduced himself and stated his intentions. He was told that his life was his own responsibility in a rather bored tone then asked to sign a waiver to receive his badge. When he did I learned his full name was Henry Price and he was part of a middling noble house from a foreign land. We entered the board room and it looked much as it ever did. To my surprise there was still a ratechin quest and it was still traditional for newbies to clear the sewers. I thought most of them would have been burned to cinders during my fight with the fire dragon but apparently nothing could keep nature down for long. Hal took the quest and skipped along to the recommended entrance. He made his way through the half tunnel half alley and was greeted by Ravin the studious gargoyle. He gave his rehearsed lecture although throughout he seemed distracted by some form of grief. Hal was kind enough to ask what was bothering the creature. We learned that today was the birthday, or creation day, of a close friend of the gargoyle. Another such creature who had sat atop the roof of the bank, apparently he had been destroyed during the dragon attack. I felt a pang of regret as I remembered the sculpture I had accidentally destroyed, a creature that had been so happy to finally be able to fly. Hal tried to comfort the magical life form but was rebuffed and waved on into the sewers. I followed along as the lad walked through the tunnels with obvious trepidation. He held a fireball ready, both to light the way and to attack anything that might jump out at him. I found the display a little funny as I could see that there was nothing for miles. Eventually his posture relaxed, perhaps too much as when he did finally encounter a ratechin it caught him unawares. I saw the beady red eyes staring at the boy from within a darkened alcove but he did not and walked on past. I tried to warn him but I couldn¡¯t be seen or heard in my current form. I tried to attack the beast as it leaned back on its hind legs and prepared to strike, again I ran into the same problem. I tried to cast a spell, anything, but being only a spirit I had mana but no means to shape it. I was left to watch, helpless, as the giant rat attacked the boy from behind. He screamed as the creature came from nowhere and bit into his neck. He launched his fireball, too close to his own body, and the screaming intensified from both parties but the beast didn¡¯t release his grip, only biting down harder. Blood sprayed out and painted the sewer tunnel. I kept trying to do something, anything but to no avail. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. I had felt a connection to this lad, I had wanted to teach him to show him that he wasn¡¯t the weak mage others thought him to be. The rat-like creature burned up so much that it couldn¡¯t move any more but the damage was already done. Hal slumped against the wall of the tunnel, slick with his blood. His skin grew paler by the second. I tried to insert myself into his wound, to staunch the blood flow, nothing. I watched as his heart slowed, each beat losing more and more blood. I had seen death before, too many times. There was a reason I locked myself away in my tower and submerged myself in research. I was about to turn away in despair when a glimmer of light caught my eye. Within Hal¡¯s chest there was a pin prick of white light. I moved in closer to examine it. Inside his heart there was a core, much like the one I had seen in myself, though a fraction of the size and colourless. I had never seen these things before and was curious what other things my astral form would allow me to see but for now I forced my curiosity down. Desperate and with no other option I interacted with the core. As expected my spirit was sucked inside. I opened my eyes as the last drops of blood dripped from my body and I died for a second time. Congratulations: Notification: ? I passed out. When I woke up my Soul Manipulation told me that I was alone, Hal¡¯s soul had moved on. I took a moment of silence as tears rolled down my cheeks. Once I had settled myself I turned to my situation. It felt wrong to feel happy for another''s misfortune but I couldn¡¯t deny that I was. I was alive! Technically dead but close enough. There was much exploration that could have been done in my intangible form but I had forgotten how good it felt to be real. Shaking off the sombre mood with years of experience I stood and examined myself. I was wearing large black robes that were covered in the young Wizard¡¯s blood. Nevertheless I checked all the pockets to see what I had. There was: a few coppers, a notebook, sticks of charcoal, a fire attributed ring, bone handled knife, a ball of twine, six six-sided dice, and a letter from the boy¡¯s father; coldly wishing him luck whilst implying he won¡¯t make it and would have to find his own way home. A rather tragic story all told. I stooped down and with the lads old, but well made knife, I chopped the ear from the creature so I might get the bounty. The creature, despite its charred and blackened skin, tried to wriggle away - not yet dead. Not wanting to waste anything I created a spell that used the last of its life force to heal the tear in my neck with the help of Soul Manipulation. The wound was sealed, leaving a faded scar, but it couldn¡¯t bring my body back to life. Hopefully that could dissuade people¡¯s suspicions somewhat. I would need to gather some spell components to deal with the stiff jerky movements and defend me from sunlight. I had thought to use Illusionary Skin but I discovered when casting the healing spell that Hal¡¯s mana pathways and pool were underdeveloped. Limited as I was, I would have to find a budget option. Having learned from my past mistakes I had taken note of the numbers the late aspiring Wizard had passed in his journey through the sewers, making it easy to go back the way we had come. On the way I discovered some of the glowing blue moss I had found the last time I was here which contained enhancement mana. I also found some mushrooms hidden away in a dark corner. If I was using normal sight I would have probably missed them but I retained my Life Sense. The dark mana in them also helped hide them but they couldn¡¯t escape my notice. Using these two ingredients I improvised a single layer spell that would create an aura of faint darkness about me. It wouldn¡¯t be enough to be visible, at most someone may think my skin is a slightly darker shade, but it should keep the sun from turning this body into a limp mass of flesh. Congratulations: With my Sunscreen in place I headed once more for the exit. When I stepped back out into the light I was relieved to find that the low level spell did indeed work, although it would only last for a day or so. When I passed the guard gargoyle he was shocked at my appearance, I explained that the blood wasn¡¯t my own. I wasn¡¯t even lying. After that he seemed much relieved. With his direction I then made my way to the nearest herbalist¡¯s. When I stumbled in, I ignored the strangely smelling dried herbs and potted fly catchers that nipped at passing customers. I looked about with an experienced eye until I found what I needed. A herb which increased someone¡¯s finesse. I didn¡¯t recognize the plant, how could I, I came from a different world, but the little mana it contained told me its effects. I used half of Hal¡¯s coppers to purchase the plant. Then I retreated to an unobserved alley and created another low level spell using some leftover moss and the herb I had purchased. Congratulations: It allowed me to move more smoothly so as not to be smited by a passing church goer. Maintaining the two spells was barely within this body¡¯s limits but doing so would be good for my new mana network. Next I got my robes cleaned and dried with my remaining coppers, seeing the state of me the owner of the wash told me to scrub off in the river. By the time I was done my clothes were ready and I returned to the adventurers guild. Still Loretta was not about. This was probably for the best as she would definitely be able to see through my Conceal skill, just the fact I was using it had already raised some eyebrows. Not that Identifying someone without permission is something someone would admit to. I got a strange look from the staff when I returned with a single ratechin ear, still they gave me my silver without question. Looking at the boards I selected a quest which suited me: A mysterious tower has appeared in the village of Urila. The folk there sent three brave young men to investigate but they haven¡¯t returned. They have managed to get together one gold mark for investigating the tower and recovering at least the bodies of their fellow villagers. The village chief has reported that ever since the tower appeared there have been non stop storms about their village with constant lightning strikes. Danger level: 3.5/5 I remembered the quest number and went to the counter. The lady looked at me strangely when a child said they were going on such a dangerous quest but she didn¡¯t stop me. She only told me that no one else had taken the quest, despite it being up for several days. I had expected as much, the risk to reward was terrible. I had taken it, however, for a number of reasons: I found my way to the market and a farmer¡¯s caravan was only too happy to have an adventurer ride with them, even as young as I appeared. So it was that I set off on my first proper adventure. Chapter 2: The Tower II Chapter 2: The Tower II Three days I spent travelling with the caravan. People would leave as they reached their farms and by the time I came near the coast it was only me and three other farmers with their horses and carts. Throughout the journey I was treated well by the farmers and their families, who came with them to market. It was clear some of them were not confident I would be of any help in the case of a bandit attack but no one complained about giving me a bowl and letting me sleep under the wagons; overall they were good honest folk. Their speech and mannerisms were slightly different than I remembered before I had my forced nap but I put that down to regional variation. Each night I refreshed both my Sunscreen and Minor Finesse spells, thanks to the system I didn¡¯t need as much mana to maintain the effects. Unfortunately the system granted spells weren''t quite as good as the ones I had devised. Sunscreen did stop me from flopping down on the floor, dead, but it was far from perfect. I got a nasty surprise one morning when I rolled out from under a wagon only to feel like I had been rolling around in pine needles, the sensation would persist as long as I was in direct sunlight. Congratulations: Thankfully the uncomfortable feeling lessened when the spell levelled up. When I added a third spell, using salt and mana-infused steel from an old knife someone had given me as a gift, I was left with only a trickle of mana to myself and it would take a week or more before Hal¡¯s mana network might grow enough for me to be magically combat ready. Congratulations: With that spell in rotation I didn¡¯t have to worry about my zombie flesh rotting off the bones. There was one thing I felt slightly bad about, not being able to eat the farmers'' food. It smelled delicious and clearly had love and attention worked into every bite, but I was unliving in a zombie¡¯s body and the internals didn¡¯t work so I was forced to secretly discard the grub each night. The caravan only took me so far and I walked the last few miles to Urila on my own, to the great chagrin of the kind folk. I waved off their concern before waving farewell and set off. When I was about three miles off, based on the description the caravan gave me, the rain started. My journey thus far had fairly nice weather and this felt unseasonal. On the plus side the constant itching I felt under the sun ceased as soon as the cloud covered me. The muddy trail grew ever more treacherous as the rain increased in strength the closer I came to the village. It was a strain on my new body. I crested a hill in the trail and emerged from a patch of trees. When describing the route the old farmer had said that you could see the sea from here and I had been quite excited. I couldn¡¯t see the ocean; but there was plenty of water, sheets of it fell ahead creating a curtain that blocked off the great blue. Miffed, I continued on to the village. The village was less of a village and more of a tribal settlement, a dozen poorly made wattle and daub huts formed a ring on a hill that overlooked the sea. In the centre of the circle was one properly constructed structure; a town hall/pub by the look of it. It was three stories tall and made of solid stone. Unable to stand the chill any longer (not that it could actually hurt, though it was uncomfortable) I pushed against the oak door. It opened with the sound of thunder, unrelated, and a room full of hardy if damp folk turned their attention from the great fire place and looked at me. ¡°Hello, good to see a fresh face.¡± a whistle toothed, bedraggled looking elderly man declared from the front of the pack. The hostile gazes of the village folk seemed to recede at the leader''s warm welcome. ¡°I wanna know how the Chandrian were defeated!¡± complained a petulant child. Clearly his age forgave his impropriety as the community seemed to cheer at the kid¡¯s outburst. ¡°Hush now, it¡¯s not often we get guests, I¡¯ll finish the story later.¡± the village chief chided gently. ¡°What can we do you for?¡± the elderly man asked, stepping forward. The other three dozen or so people taking shelter in the room devolved into their own conversations. ¡°I¡¯m here about the quest you sent to the guild.¡± I said, taking off my robe and hanging it on a hook, leaving me in my relatively dry linens. The old man took my robe and rested it by the fire to dry. As he did so a couple of the nearest families started talking hurriedly in whispers and glancing at me. One burly looking man stood in a corner of the room and stared at me with his arms crossed, huffing contemplatively. ¡°Excuse him,¡± the leader excused upon his return with a thick woollen blanket that I wrapped about myself to stave off the chill of death, ¡°no one can work with this constant storm, we¡¯re a fishing village and although the fish love rain the boats don¡¯t. Simon over there tried to go out anyway and his boat filled up with water and sank.¡± I looked at the muscled man with concern, ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry, he¡¯s half fish man, you couldn¡¯t drown him if you tried.¡± I took a closer look at the man, his tanned muscles did indeed have a pearlescent gleam. I was overcome with an urge to dissect him and see if he had both gills and lungs or a separated system entirely. My gaze must have been too intense for the man as he looked away pretending he hadn¡¯t just been eyeing the newcomer. The old man, with his wild grey hair and platted woollen jumper, coughed to regain my attention. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Awfully young to be an adventurer.¡± the village chief said, not unkindly. I reached over and turned my robe to show the badge. ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t doubt it.¡± he said in response. He seemed to debate saying more before opting to stay quiet. He instead led me to a couple of chairs in the corner of the room so we might have some privacy, as I could already hear the gossip spreading through the crowd. ¡°I do apologise for that,¡± the old man said, referring to the tongue-wags, ¡°With everyone out of work, what with this tower and all¡­¡± ¡°I understand,¡± I allowed, wanting to get right to business. ¡°Speaking of the tower.¡± I prompted. ¡°Right so, what do you want to know?¡± he asked. ¡°Everything. When did it appear? What does it look like? Has this storm been here the whole time? When did you send those men to investigate?¡± I listed. For a moment he appeared overcome by the incongruity of my age and business-like demeanour. ¡°Okay,¡± he began in a drawn out fashion as he thought on the matter. ¡°The tower appeared about a month ago, during a fierce storm, and since the tower got here the storm hasn¡¯t seceded. It¡¯s about a mile east, in the forest. We knew about it immediately because the huntsman lives out that way and rushed to report in the night, minutes after its appearance.¡± ¡°Is he here?¡± I cut in, intrigued. ¡°No, he keeps to himself, he¡¯s stayed in his hut in the eastern forest.¡± old man 3 replied, not offended by my interruption. ¡°Hmm, where was I? Ah yes, The tower is about six stories in height, made from a dark stone no one here can identify and with a blue tiled roof. Let me see, what else. Jack, Josh, and John, three of our strongest lads, left as soon as the village got word of the tower''s arrival. They haven¡¯t returned and it¡¯s scared anyone else from going, that¡¯s why we gathered what we could and sent word to the adventurer¡¯s guild.¡± The rest of the information I got from the man wasn¡¯t worth mentioning save that every seventh day the storm would ease up to a little rain but never stop. I decided to go on the lighter day, three days hence. That was perfect for me as by then this body should have grown enough to use little magics, I had to try and find the ingredients for fire spells because the fire attributed ring this body used to use as a focus would make them more powerful - about 30% by my reckoning. I was permitted to sleep in the town house for the next three days. I spent the time with the villagers. At meal times people would take turns to tell stories and the rest of the time people talked and played games. To my delight Hal¡¯s dice were subtly weighted and I was able to turn my one silver into two before folk became suspicious. The rest of the information I gained from the other villagers was less than useful, nothing more than exaggerated gossip: The Tower was a punishment from the god of storms as no one had died in the last great surge, There was an evil wizard that had come here to enslave the people, and my personal favourite that the fish having had enough, formed a society and began their attack. In that case the rain was supposed to stop them from suffocating. I knew immediately something was different when I pretended to wake on the seventh day, sleep is something the living dead can never have. The constant sound of rain hammering on the shingles was far quieter. I looked out a window and could finally see the ocean through a light drizzle. A day before I had managed to convince the half fishman to bet an ice pike¡¯s tooth he gained in a youthful adventure, with it I could cast some small fire spell. I did, of course, have Magma Lob but that was too mana intensive for this body. I could probably use it in a pinch but I would be left with mana poisoning. The villagers had warmed to me and were sad to see me go, the village chief even gave me a rusty spear that had been his grandfather¡¯s in some long forgotten war. I bid them farewell, dressed in my finally dry clothes and headed east. It was easy to make out the tower, even within the forest, now that the rain had let up. It was exactly as described. My curiosity pulled at me to head straight there but there was one place I had to go first. I followed a path, little more than a washed out game trail, through the deciduous forest until I came to a small clearing. Within was an old log cabin, moss growing to fill any gaps. I trudged to the front door and was about to knock when it opened to show the door frame filled with an eight foot tall bear kin. I was taken aback for a moment as the imposing figure stared down at me. He was dressed in a bearskin coat of all things and had a rope coiled around his body, a bow strapped to his back, and an axe as long as I was tall held in one giant paw. ¡°Beary the hunter?¡± I asked, redundantly. The villages hadn''t told me his race, no doubt they were chuckling to themselves back in the hall. The Bear kin growled out the side of his muzzle, as if annoyed that someone stood in his way, I stepped aside. He walked out into the rain, closing his door before answering. ¡°What do you want, pipsqueak?¡± he asked in an annoyed tone. ¡°I have some questions about the tower," I said, showing him my guild badge. ¡°What¡¯s a scrawny thing like you supposed to do?¡± he replied derisively. ¡°Besides I¡¯ve had about enough of this infernal rain so you won¡¯t have to worry about this quest for long.¡± he said, swinging his axe in a chopping motion towards the tower, about a half mile away. ¡°A pup like you should head back to his mother.¡± he declared with a tone of finality before turning his back to me and lumbering off into the forest to put action to his words. I was left stunned for a moment, no one had spoken to me like that in hundreds of years, not that it really bothered me. In fact it made me feel as youthful as my appearance would suggest. ¡°Wait.¡± I finally called after him, having to jog to match the beast kin''s long loping strides. ¡°I¡¯m a Wizard.¡± I called, using the local term. At this Beary stopped and raised an eyebrow at me. I felt the discomforting tingle of someone trying to use Identify on me. The Bearman¡¯s eyebrow rose further before he snorted and turned back to his march. ¡°If you were a Wizard at your age you¡¯d be at Woden¡¯s, everyone knows that, and you certainly wouldn¡¯t have the Conceal skill. I know your type, you¡¯re the sneaky sort and I don''t want that at my back.¡± he ended, putting a paw subconsciously to a pouch at his waist. ¡°Some Wizards prefer adventure.¡± I answered without lying. To prove my case I shot a Necrotising Bolt at a nearby bush. Using it with the intended amount of mana only made the leaves shrivel and blacken rather than disintegrating it entirely. Beary looked at the dead bushes with wide eyes and turned to me all serious, ¡°Promise me you will never do that again in this forest.¡± he said in a tone that brooked no arguments. Shocked at the sudden tone I killed my excitement and bowed in apology. This seemed to satisfy the beastman and he returned to his resolute walk. In an attempt to get to know my apparent fated ally better I asked a question as I ran alongside; ¡°So why the sudden change of heart? You could have gone with the earlier party.¡± ¡°I told you, I had enough of the rain.¡± he replied evasively in a gruff voice, not meeting my eye. ¡°Wait,¡± as the image of his first appearance replayed in my mind. When he opened the door my attention had been stolen by the unexpected bear but my brain had noticed something in his house. ¡°Your dog, I noticed a shaggy old girl wrapped in a blanket and sneezing. You''re doing this because your dog is sick?!¡± I said as it hit me. He didn¡¯t answer, only staring dead ahead, his eyes seemed damp even in the rain. I decided not to press the issue but I thought to myself that he was perhaps not as scary as he at first appeared. At the pace Beary set it didn¡¯t take long to reach the tower. The storm grew heavier and heavier as we came to it. Lighting struck a mental spike on its roof at regular intervals. I was thankful I came on a calm day as I didn¡¯t think it would be possible to get to the tower otherwise. When we were within ten feet of the dark stonework all rain ceased, it was calm here at the heart of the storm. We both took a moment to prepare ourselves. Before us stood a great oak door, slightly ajar. There was a streak of blood across its surface. We looked at one another, resolve hardened in Beary¡¯s eyes and he pushed the door open. Chapter 3: The Tower III Chapter 3: The Tower III Creak. I held tightly onto the Ice-pike¡¯s tooth, ready to cast a flame spell at the slightest provocation. The door swung open to reveal¡­ an empty entryway with another door three paces in. Both myself and my impromptu bear companion let out breaths neither of us knew we were holding. I couldn¡¯t be certain but I had a growing suspicion this body was having an effect on the way I thought and behaved. Beary stepped in first and I followed. On closer inspection there wasn¡¯t as much nothing as I had thought. Two sets of eyes, one human one beastkin, tracked the blood trail that was visible on the front door. It led across the floor of the entryway and continued behind the closed door ahead. Scratches made with scrabbling fingernails marked the stone floor, to do that whomever was dragged across here must have been desperate. ¡°Blood¡¯s dry, been here four or five weeks. Most likely those village boys.¡± Barely analysed in a professional manner. ¡°You a tracker?¡± I asked, more to break the building unease I felt. ¡°Hunter.¡± Beary answered, simply. He then proceeded to stalk forward on silent paws, I stood behind, spell ready. He placed his hand-adjacent appendage on the knob. There proceed another spine tingling creak as the door swung to. There was no sudden attack. The opening revealed a bare stone room with no furniture. The hexagonal chamber was large but empty, save for a chandelier twenty feet above alight with magestones and a statue half again as tall as Beary. The figure was what took both of our attention for although the stone gargoyle, a sculpture of a demon footsoldier, stood stock still and gave no signs of life; its clawed hands and feet were caked in dried blood and rotting viscera. The bodies were nowhere to be seen. Beary grasped his woodaxe tightly and steeled himself to enter. He was about to set his foot across the threshold when I stopped him with a tug at his fur. ¡°Let me check for traps.¡± I offered, he stepped aside to oblige me. ¡°Knew you were a thief.¡± he murmured but I didn¡¯t acknowledge the remark with a response. I may not have been a traps expert during life, though I had researched a number of magical ones, but my attention to detail had saved me a number of times from what would have otherwise been disaster. I found the remnants of a tripped tripwire, one half of the line on each side of the entrance. As far as I could tell it was connected to a series of holes in the ceiling above, I thought perhaps arrows flew from them. Examining the floor I could indeed make out corresponding divots which may have come from arrows. The evidence was again lacking however. ¡°See anything?¡± Bear asked, tersely. I was about to answer in the negative when something caught my arcane eye. Ever since I had consumed part of my own soul to cast a spell my magical senses had been dimmed, even so this would have been hard to notice. A mana network, much like that of a golem¡¯s, ran through the floor. No, now I could see it, mana pathways ran everywhere throughout the structure. But like looking at a letter through a murky pond it was impossible to tell what it said. If mana were running through it that would be a different story. An idea formed, maybe not the most ethical, but it would allow me to study this design. ¡°All clear.¡± I finally said to my newest ally, deciding not to share the discovery. I stepped aside and gestured him through. Again he hoisted up his courage by its bootstraps before charging head long into the room. I hadn¡¯t been expecting the sudden assault and clearly neither had the designer of this defence as the demonic golem was slow to activate. I saw mana rush through the pathways and towards the statue. I took out Hal¡¯s notebook, I hadn¡¯t read it out of respect, and skipped to a fresh page. Frantically I scribbled out the mana network with charcoal. Instead of trying to draw every detail, which would have been impossible in the brief time it took to activate, I noted down sections of the magical circuit I recognized: Switch rounds, thump overs, and T flip flops to name but a few. Most of the required mana had entered the Golem and it was beginning to move, as if breaking free from ice, when Beary ran it over. Given the size difference I expected him to bounce off like hitting a brick wall, or a giant stone statue, but instead he was able to bowl it over. Not all the mana had moved into the golem and its wings, not reinforced with mana, shattered against the stone floor. The excess mana that had been sent to the guardian now rushed back along the mana pathways to wherever it was stored. Unable to waste the opportunity I frantically added to my notes leaving the giant bearman to grapple with the infernal statue. While I was frantically scribbling I saw, from the corner of my eye, the two wrestling on the ground. Beary tried to hold it close and negate its strength advantage, his axe discarded to one side, as he struck tight blows and chipped the stone. He wasn¡¯t able to keep it up however, the golem got a clawed foot between the two pushing Beary away. The beastman managed to spin, avoiding the full force of the attack, still he received a gash to his right flank. As he rolled across the floor he snatched up his axe and held himself in a readied crouch, one hand covering his wound. For a brief moment they tested each other with tentative strikes while circling, then the creature seemed to remember it was a construct that couldn¡¯t feel pain so it stole a page from the Hunter¡¯s playbook. Charging before the big man could react, the Golem took its turn to knock his foe over. I heard something snap as Beary struck the ground, the stone giant on top. I wanted to help, but I wanted more to jot down all of the mana network that I currently retained, mana had only passed through it for seconds but much was still imprinted in my mind and I didn¡¯t want to lose it. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Beary was clearly an experienced grappler and slippery enough to avoid any puncturing fangs or claws but injured as he was he took a good few concussive elbows and knees. Perhaps forgetting his opponent Beary tried to bite it about the neck only to recoil in pain. The gargoyle took advantage of the lapse and grabbed the Beastkin¡¯s neck in the crook of its arm. ¡°Little help?¡± My pal half growled half wheezed from his choke hold. I took a final note before setting aside the book and rushing to his aid. With one spell on my mind I ran up, and, speaking the arcane words, cast my fire spell through the fire attributed ring. The Ice-pike¡¯s tooth being consumed in the process. Congratulations: Fire sprayed from my open palm engulfing the golem¡¯s head. I didn¡¯t expect the flames to do anything to stone, they weren¡¯t hot enough, though it was always good to test one¡¯s assumptions. No, I used this attack because I could see the glowing mana network within the creature and whoever had designed it had made a mistake common amongst golemancers - the visual mana nodes were placed in the eyes (I preferred putting them in the nipples, no one expects it). Unable to see, the golem acted as any living creature might and blocked its face with its arms, releasing the nearly unconscious Hunter in the process. He gasped for air as he scrambled back. I waited until he looked mostly hail before releasing the spell. ¡°Can you keep its attention?¡± I asked, a plan in mind. ¡°Yep.¡± Beary affirmed, shaking himself out for round two. He took the fore, and I stood behind waiting for an opportunity. The Golem swung a haymaker. Beary caught it close to the body with his forearm, clearly paining the broken appendage. Still he took advantage, swinging the blunt side of the axe round, causing it to chip the well sculpted abs. It stuck out its maw and tried to bite him but missed as he slipped out of range. Frustrated, it tried a once successful tactic again, charging in head first. Beary had been expecting this, he spun out of line and landed a 360 blow on its exposed back. With the thing over extended and off balance I took my time to aim. A Rock Throw focused on speed zipped forth and smashed against the mana node in the knee. This was just the push it needed and it collapsed to its hands and remaining knee. Beary didn¡¯t waste a second, with the head now in range he brought down his axe in an overhead strike, pushing his broken arm to the limit. The skull and axe met in a cacophonous boom. The head snapped off the axe and went flying, the gargoyle''s head cracked in two. A glowing earth mana stone fell out, leaving the body nothing more than inanimate stone. Beary, not knowing this, stood on guard for a moment longer. When he was sure it wasn¡¯t going to get back up he spun to face me. ¡°What was that?¡± He growled, teeth clenched in pain. ¡°A golem?¡± I tried innocently. ¡°You know damn well that¡¯s not what I¡¯m talking about.¡± he snarled. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect much from you but those spells were good. Would have been a great help if you didn¡¯t space out for the first half of the fight.¡± ¡°Sorry, I just wanted to examine the building''s magic.¡± I said, pitiably. Beary only growled a warning in response.¡±Sorry.¡± I said again looking down at the ground. This seemed to be enough and he spun to look for his axe head. I stuck my tongue out at his back. He seemed to sense something and turned only to see me in the same position as before. I laughed internally as he returned to his search. There was no doubt about it this body was having an effect on me, either that or I was still incredibly childish. ? Beary retrieved his axe head, pocketing it away. He used the broken handle and rope to splint his arm and bandages he carried to fix his side then he came over to see what I was doing. I had collected the mana stone for later use. Feeling I ought not be selfish I offered it to the Beastman but he refused, saying I should have the magicky stuff as he couldn¡¯t use it. I was still selfish enough not to tell him exactly how much a stone like this would be worth and just took the gift. ¡°The rain¡¯s not stopped.¡± Beary remarked, poking his head outside. ¡°This isn¡¯t all the tower has to offer, this is just the front door. That''s why I needed to examine the mana network in use.¡± I added, covering for myself. The Hunter didn¡¯t seem to follow so I walked over to the centre of the room. Where the Golem had started there was a heavily engraved silver disk embedded in the ground. ¡°This acted as a mana conduit.¡± I said pointing at the thing. ¡°Most of the time the earth mana the golem¡¯s core constantly produced went to power other things in the tower; I don¡¯t know what. But when there are intruders it redirects power back into the guard, giving it a jump start.¡± I explained. ¡°How will that help me dispel the storm, it clearly wasn¡¯t powered by the golem¡¯s core.¡± Beary asked, genuinely interested in the mechanics of it. ¡°Like I said, this is just the front door.¡± I replied, looking around at the six walls. ¡°If someone comes in here who the building doesn¡¯t see as an enemy then they have to recite the entry phase, best as I can tell they get three chances before the defences activate.¡± I examined my notes which informed my answer. ¡°So we just have to stand here talking till it opens?¡± he asked looking up. ¡°We could.¡± I allowed, ¡°But there should be a better way.¡± I said absently as I kneeled down before the silver plate. After some umming and ahhing, going back and forth between two symbols, I took Hal¡¯s knife to one of the runes. The mage lights above brightened. Nothing more happened. ¡°I don¡¯t think that was right.¡± Beary remarked. I returned to my notes looking them over one more time. After a moment I let out a sound of realisation. ¡°Good job I didn¡¯t do the other one or we would have been trapped in here whilst the place floods.¡± I said flippantly as I got rid of the correct symbol. Beary laughed as if it were a joke and I chose not to correct him. The room shook and, as I expected, three of the six walls began to lower revealing two doors and a communicative room, separated by a powerful ward. Beary hadn¡¯t expected it, probably because there wasn¡¯t room for all this on the first floor of the tower we had entered. He jumped and readied himself for another brawl. I chuckled under my breath but my laughter was short-lived. ¡°Hello! I say, hello! Great Scot! People, real actual people. Can you hear me? through the ward I mean.¡± a four foot gnome dressed in a black three piece suit with matching top hat ejaculated from the other side of the magical separation, gesticulating wildly at us. Chapter 4: The Tower IV Chapter 4: The Tower IV A gnomish Wizard with a rather poor streak of luck and a snappy sense of dress. That was Divish¡­ or Danvish¡­ or maybe Dede. Honestly it was a wonder that we were able to understand a word he said for he was so quick of speech and thick of accent that it bordered on the unintelligible. Beary and I discussed what we heard him say and came to the conclusion that the little man, trapped in the adjacent room (a study by all appearances with a bed and kitchenette for prolonged sessions), was the current owner of this magical tower. It apparently once belonged to a pioneer in the magical arts, Lord Stafford of Somesuch. The name clearly had some weight in the magical community because Dibledoble expected us to recognise it; neither of us did. That said, given the complexity of the magical network here; I had to admit that whoever they were, they were incredibly skilled. Anyhow, Doby bought the property from Stafford¡¯s family after his death. Being a studious Wizard he was excited to see what he might learn from the great Stafford Somethingorother¡¯s tower (Honestly his accent was atrocious, some of the words may have been in another language all together). Unfortunately for the little guy the access phrase the family had given him was a dud. They didn¡¯t know the original phrase and so they had to break their way to the main core and superimpose a new one on the network. It worked¡­at first, allowing him to enter the tower, however once the network fully repaired itself it noticed the intruder and put the tower into lockdown mode. And for good measure it teleported itself to a predetermined safe location. According to the Wizard, in order to deactivate the lockdown we would have to enter the library (the door to the left) find the mana network¡¯s manual and then go to the core room (the door to the right) and create a new passphrase, properly this time. I considered breaking the ward which trapped the man, although it was simple it was also too powerful for my current mana level. There was also the argument that I might be able to adjust the network without the manual but I knew I wasn¡¯t infallible. That and I was excited to see what secrets the library of such a great Wizard might hold. It was for that reason that I agreed to the gnomes plan, with one condition. He would tell me where the bodies of the villagers had gone, it was in the quest description after all. After Domblydoo repeated his answer thrice I was left with the impression that the tower had moved them to ¡®waste disposal¡¯ and I could find a hatch in the core room. He did warn that depending how long they were gone I might not find anything because the tower would have used them as an alternative energy supply. Beary also decided to go with me, claiming ¡°I need to make sure this infernal weather is put to an end,¡± although I suspected that he was concerned for the safety of what he thought to be a young adventurer. Bear insisted on taking the lead, he laid his good hand upon the knob and opened the door to the library. A box shaped room, 6 by 6 feet greeted us - not even a bookshelf. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Beary asked with no small amount of confusion. I shrugged and turned the question to the well dressed prisoner. With some arm motions and several repeated shouts we were finally able to understand what was going on. The library was on a different floor of the tower and apparently this tiny room was the only way to get there. Following an approximation of Dollar¡¯s instructions we stepped into the chamber and closed the door behind us. It was rather claustrophobic, stuck in there with an 8 foot bearman. A panel was placed on the wall with the door, we were supposed to pass mana through one of the two mana crystals it contained in order to activate the mechanism. I tried putting mana through the lower one: ¡°Nothing happened.¡± I murmured. I tried doing the same to the upper mana crystal. ¡°Is it broken?¡± Beary asked, having not sensed any change. I bearly heard him as all my attention was focused on the spellshape the mana network was forming around the entire room. I had expected that perhaps this room would be moved on cables or by rails, instead I could see this world''s spellshape for, what I believed to be teleportation, form around us. When the spell activated there was no more than a bearly audible pop. Beary, not having noticed anything, was growing - unbearably anxious. He flinched when a chime sounded out to say we had arrived. I nodded at Beary to confirm that we had indeed moved. Ready for anything, Beary once more took the lead and started to open the same door we had just entered through. Whoosh. As it turned out he hadn¡¯t been ready for anything. He didn¡¯t expect a torrent of water to force its way into the chamber. It came with such sudden force that Beary was knocked unconscious instantly. I, being behind the flesh shield, was given a second to take in a breath before I was completely submerged (although I had no need for air). As my unconscious companion floated out into the room I was able to see what we had gotten ourselves into. The room was about the size of the arena below but each wall was covered in books. Or rather, had been covered in books. They now bobbed about like over stuffed birds flapping in the current our opening had created. There was one exception, a sealed glass case in the centre of the room containing a hefty tome bound in white leather and embossed with the word ¡°Manual¡±. My first thought upon taking in the scene was, of course, of my companion. It wasn¡¯t of the years of magical knowledge that was floating, destroyed¡­ truly¡­ okay maybe it was but the bear was a close second. I inspected him and found that he wasn¡¯t in immediate danger, he was actually lucky to have been knocked out. I knew that mammals had a reflex that forced their throat closed when submerged. I also knew that there was a reflex to inhale when low on air. These two impulses warred in a conscious victim¡­ I mean test subject, if they panicked they would take on water but if they remained calm they would be able to keep their throat shut and could possibly survive days. When passed out the decision was made for him. I especially knew this to be true for beastkin, suffice to say at one point they were seen as evil by the kingdom I was a part of and that had been reason enough for me to use them as experimental subjects. It wasn¡¯t my proudest moment. Anyhow, I digress. I needed to get rid of the water because, although he may survive for days, he could also die in minutes. I searched frantically for a solution, until it hit me, literally in this case. A weighted die had floated free from my pocket and bounced off my foot. Hoping it was indeed weighted with lead I set about my plan. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Swimming over to the far side of the room I placed the leaded die on a bookshelf and swam back to the teleporting room. I took out the golem¡¯s earth mana stone and began the spell. The lead in the die, a concentrated form of earth, and the earth mana stone would serve as the conduits. The earth mana stone would serve double time as a mana source, this drastically reduced the efficacy of any spell I would use it for but given my current mana constraints I had no choice. Because chanting was difficult under water I decided to cast this two layer spell using both of my hands. A connection formed between the two conduits. Lightning mana was thought to be a subset of wind mana when I first learned magic but I later learned that it was actually closer connected to earth. The two conditions simultaneously tried to push and pull at one another. Not much happened at first, save a slighted rippling of the water, but this reaction built and built until a spark formed between the two items. I signed a gurgled sight of relief, there really was lead in that die. Once the lightning started it grew, permeating the entire reservoir. As if by magic bubbles started to form out of nowhere and floated to the surface, beginning to form a pocket of air. The pocket only grew as the bubbling intensified and within a matter of moments the room was bone dry, just the way I liked it. I grimaced as the mana stone boiled away into motes but I put my feelings aside as I rushed to the side of the bearly alive Beary. I punched him hard in the stomach as it was the best solution I had found to this problem. A mouthful of water sprayed out from his mouth as he spluttered awake. Thankful it was only the mouthful and now he was gasping desperately for air. I gave him his space until he was properly breathing again. ¡°You weren¡¯t joking.¡± He finally said between heaving breaths. ¡°About what?¡± I asked concerned, perhaps he had been out too long and his goose had been gandered. ¡°Before, when you said you could have flooded the room if you got rid of the wrong rune.¡± Beary clarified. ¡°Oh,¡± I chuckled in relief. ¡°No, I wasn¡¯t joking.¡± It took a while for beary to return to health, while I waited I went about the room picking up books. All ruined, they had all been ruined. This room had been flooded for some time and the parchment had dissolved, there wasn''t anything that could be saved. ¡°I still feel quite heady.¡± Beary finally announced after several minutes. ¡°That would be the enriched air.¡± I explained, ¡°It happened when I got rid of the water.¡± ¡°Enriched air?¡± He asked. ¡°Lets hope you don¡¯t find out.¡± I replied vaguely as I made my way to the centre of the room where the pedestal sat. The mechanism to release the manual was simple and I had the case open in seconds. ¡°That¡¯s it, let''s go.¡± I said briskly, helping Beary to his feet. I was quite upset by the loss of knowledge. I reentered the teleporting room first and, knowing it took a few seconds to activate, I passed mana through the lower crystal. Beary followed me in, closing the door. Click. ¡°Wait, was that¡­?¡± Kaboooooom¡­shh. We caught the start of the explosion just before the teleport activated. Luckily neither of us was injured. ¡°Enriched air?¡± Beary asked, to which I nodded. We stumbled back into the main chamber, smoking slightly. Discus had just enough time to see us and begin to jump for joy at the sight of the manual under my arm when the whole room shook, the explosion finally having reached us. Dust fell like snow from the ceiling and the mana network activated. I saw it try to pass mana into the gargoyle, only to return having not found it. Then it tried to flood the room, except all the water had already been used. Before it could begin to cook us alive I dragged Beary into the door on the right where we found another tiny room and I passed mana through the crystal. Within seconds we had teleported again. ¡°What was that?¡± Beary asked in a gruff tone. ¡°That tower was about to set that room on fire.¡± I explained, gasping for unneeded breath. ¡°What about Dingdong?¡± Beary asked with unhidden concern. ¡°That ward will protect him,¡± I reassured. My confidence seemed to convince him. We proceeded to take a moment to recompose ourselves before opening the door, despite my protests Beary was once more first through the door. It opened normally this time and we were greeted with an interesting view, the core room. It was a hexagonal room, again the same size as the arena and library. The walls were embedded with hundreds of mana stones of all colours and connected by engraved silver plates that were stuck firm to the walls. It was a fortune¡¯s worth of magical supplies and it came together to create a remarkable magical invention. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Beary asked, pointing to the item at the centre of the room. ¡°That¡¯s the core.¡± I explained, unable to hold back my excitement. I ran about the room noting everything I could down in my notebook, being in an inner pocket it was only made damp by our underwater experience. ¡°That?¡± Beary asked, incredulous. The core was a 5 foot statue made of solid mana crystal. The figure it depicted was enormously fat, enough that the core was almost spherical. Upon his brow he wore a laurel wreath and about his body a toga creating the image of some long dead emperor. ¡°Are you sure?¡± Beary asked again. ¡°Of course, I can see the mana in it.¡± I said offhandedly, my attention remaining on my notes. ¡°Can I see that manual?¡± Beary asked, still not convinced. ¡°Sure,¡± I agreed - handing it over. ¡°Making a new passphrase is on page 69" I added. Beary thanked me and began flicking through. I took the time to examine the hatch the gnome had mentioned, indeed all the meat had gone leaving only a golden earring and a fish-hook, Beary confirmed they belonged to the villagers and I took them as evidence before returning to my records. When I¡¯d come to the end of my note taking the beastman spoke up. ¡°This can¡¯t be right!¡± He finally burst out. For the last few minutes he had been growing more and more agitated. ¡°Why?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°Here, the first line. Slap my ass.¡± He pointed out. ¡°Ahh,¡± I chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s not ass it¡¯s A.S.S. or Automatic Sensor System.¡± I replied, moving to that section of the mana network and slapping the control mana stone. ¡°Fine, well what about the next line: Call me dirty.¡± Beary protesty. ¡°Again, not quite right. We need to get the main core to call for the DRTY (Defence, Rain, Teleport and Yeet), it¡¯s a defence protocol the designer made.¡± I explained as I passed wind mana through the correct channel to call it. ¡°Oh,¡± Bear said, deflated. ¡°Then what does this mean?¡± He asked, pointing to the third and final line. I looked at the words, looked back up to him and grinned before tweaking the nipples of the statue. ¡°Pass phrase?¡± A voice spoke in my mind, drowning out Beary¡¯s annoyed grunts. Having decided this before, we chose ¡°Gnome¡± in the hopes the gnome would at least be able to say it. When I spoke the word the room glowed brighter for a moment before returning to normal. I patted the exasperated bear on the shoulder before we headed back out to the main chamber. When we arrived I would see scorches spotted on the stone and the air was still warm but the danger had passed. Dildo looked relieved to see that we were safe and ecstatic when we told him that we had changed the password. He promised if we ever came to his land that we would be showered with riches. Unfortunately neither of us could determine where exactly he came from. Either the name was unfamiliar or we kept mishearing it. When he finally calmed down I gave the phrase to him. To both our surprise he spoke it with such clarity that I wondered if he had been messing with us the whole time. We didn¡¯t have long to think about it however because as soon as he said the word allowed the lights above dimmed, mana surged through the building and the next second it was gone. We fell a foot or so to the ground, finding ourselves in the only dry spot in a soaked forest. The sun was near setting and for the first time in days we could see it through the canopy. The clouds had gone with the tower. We took a moment to marvel before Bearys'' concerns weighed upon him. I followed him home to see him comfort his sick dog who already seemed to have improved. I bid farewell to my companion before returning to the village. The people were dancing for joy out in the street and making an effort to run the village dry of booze. I took the village head aside to give him the mementos I had found of the lost villagers and confirmed that they were dead. His mood dampened but he promised he would tell the families before handing me a gold mark¡¯s worth of silver, only a dozen pieces. I accepted and thanked him. I was invited to join the revelry but chose to slink away as night fell; in search of my next adventure. Chapter 5: Skull and Bones I Chapter 5: Skull and Bones I I was lost. Not in the sense that I didn¡¯t know where I was going, I knew exactly where I was going; it was part of the reason I had taken the tower quest only a few nights ago. I was lost in the sense that I didn¡¯t know where I was. Somewhere in this area, near the southern coast, east of Wiccawich, was a part of my skeleton. I had felt it, that feeling was what had dragged me so far off the beaten path and along the beach. I had left the village of Urila a few days earlier for a number of reasons. I wasn¡¯t the biggest fan of parties and it looked as if they were building for an absolute rager. But more importantly I had just noted down a treasure trove of information from that tower. The level of magical complexity paled in comparison to the mana network within my own tower but that was a good thing. I had lived in the Blue Tower for centuries and much of its abilities remained a mystery to me; not for lack of trying on my part. The Towers on my home world were designed in the golden age of magic, before the undead wars, and much of the techniques that were used were lost. If that was the only problem I may have uncovered their methods of production but that was far from the only issue. There were a number of mana pathways which were red herrings, they did nothing as best as I could tell. What''s more I would only have seconds to look at it, as when I bypassed the tower¡¯s defences, the mana network would reset after very little time and block my mana sight by flooding the walls with mana. Compounding this was the countless modifications previous generations of Archmagi had done to the tower - muddying the waters further. I had guessed that my tower must also have a core room but I had never been able to find it, there wasn¡¯t even room for it in the structure but bending space was nothing new. Suffice to say the insights I had gained from this much simpler tower had given me much to think on. I did my best thinking while in motion, usually this meant keeping myself busy with the monotonous work of repeated experimentation. Although my ¡®walks¡¯ were infamous in my home world, I might reshape the landscape by accident when my mind was elsewhere and if there was, say, a mountain or a city in my way I may, without thinking, flatten it. Without access to a proper laboratory I was forced to resort to walking. I set my internal compass upon that sense I had of a piece of myself and began to walk. The first night passed uneventfully as I walked along a sandy beach. The first day was a disaster. So caught up was I in my musings that I had failed to notice the rising sun. I was left, trapped in a dead body, for the entire day. I was lucky that I had been walking above the tidal line or I may have been swept out to sea without any recourse. I could, of course, have let my soul leave this body, however I was unsure if I would be able to return. With my body sedentary, my thoughts slowed, grinding to a halt long before dusk. I was beyond frustrated when night finally came and unlife returned to Hal¡¯s body. I must have looked like a petulant teenager, stamping across the sand in the moonlight that second night. Shortly before sunrise on the second day I made sure to refresh; Sunscreen, Minor Finesse, and Preserve Meat. Not long after I did the sand tapered off before cliffs began to rise, seeing this coming only thanks to my spell-break I put myself on the solid heathland and continued up the coast in the direction of my bones. I walked along the edge of the cliff as it rose from 0 feet to 50. As I proceeded, the heathers and sandy soil of the heath gradually gave way to a more wooded area. At first it was the occasional silver birch that sprouted singularly from the flat lands. Eventually these lonely survivors were brought into the fold by patches of bracken and gorse; before long I found myself in a fully fledged forest. If I had been thinking much of my surroundings: I might have been surprised by the ease with which I followed the top of the cliff. A path had been worn through and the spiky plants that populated this region had been cut back from the walkway. This would have seemed particularly odd as there were no signs of any mortals out this way, not even smoke from distant houses. I didn¡¯t notice any of this as I continued plodding on, my brain working its way through the puzzles I had given it. I finally came back to my senses; having figured out everything I could and memorised all I had seen in the tower. I was surprised to find I had no idea where I was; I was lost. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ? I looked about, quickly taking in my surroundings. I peered over the cliff at the waves which lapped at the rocks below. I looked behind me and ahead but there was no end to the cliffs in sight. I was going to return the way I had presumably come when something caught my eye. Below me the waves crashed against boulders, suspended in clay, all the way along - save for a spot about 500 feet ahead. At that point the water appeared to continue inwards without being impeded, no sign of white horses. The sight piqued my new passion for exploration, as although I could not see it from here, there must be a cave hidden away down there. I rushed along the path I had been subconsciously following, wanting to get closer to the point of interest. Unfortunately, I was unable to. About 100 feet from the place, the path turned inland and the way forward was blocked by thick foliage. I debated just burning my way through but decided to leave that as a last resort and instead follow the path in the hopes this was a momentary diversion. As I passed one tree I heard the incongruous sound of snoring. I unfocused my Life Sense; changing it from the normal overlay I had over my sight to a vision that was mostly dark save for the largest forms of life. I shut my eyes and scanned about. Sure enough, tucked away in the tree above me was a dwarf woman, fast asleep. She wore a baggy, white, linen shirt and thick, brown, cotton trousers. At her waist there was a sabre - so thick that it may have been a cleaver. My Detection skill tugged at me and I could make out the marks left on the tree from her desperate scramble up it. It also highlighted the footsteps left in the mud that continued along the trail. Curious, I ignored the sleeping woman and continued along the path. It terminated at a cave, still not far from the sea. I entered with all haste and followed the path as it descended down into the earth. The exterior had appeared natural but the descent was anything but. It was a man made tunnel complete with rotting wooden supports. I turned a corner and was greeted by quite the sight. I looked out upon a secluded harbour, hidden beneath the cliffs. This was no doubt the cove I had detected before. The haven had room for only the one large square rigged ship which currently made port. The surrounding dock was stacked with cargo being moved about by men and women dressed the same as the exterior dwarf and of such variety in race and species that it had only been matched by my brief glimpse into the nobility in Wiccawich. An iron banded oak chest caught my eye. The locks it sported were a match for the one I had seen earlier; the only thing missing was a ward. Combined with my sense for myself, there could be no doubt that it contained some of my bones. It was being carried towards the ship by a young human looking man - he wore a baggy, linen shirt and baggy, brown shorts and around his middle was a red, silk cumberbund and atop his head was tied off a giant kerchief of the same material; completely covering his hair and exposing slightly pointed ears. I scanned about for a way that I may get to him undetected but there were simply too many of them. I did, however, notice that while most were sporting sabres, of a more reasonable width than the dwarf¡¯s, the better dressed among them were carrying coshes. I returned my focus to the man who held a part of me and used Identify. Name: Huck Tuah Title: Sea Man Race: Half Elf Class: Fighter Lv.14 Age: 21 Skills: 5 Spells: 0 Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine. I examined the window which contained much more info than the last time I had used the skill, since I had levelled it up. I was just examining the man¡¯s rather peculiar name when the screen suddenly went fuzzy and my ears filled with static. I then heard the echo of a Thwack that had occurred seconds before bouncing off the walls of the cave. My vision darkened and just before I fell into blackness I looked up to see an annoyed looking man wearing a tricorn hat looking down at me; then nothing. Chapter 6: Skull and Bone II Chapter 6: Skull and Bone II I awoke from a strange dream in which I was haunted by my worst mistakes. I shuddered as the dream faded, leaving behind a throbbing head and watering eyes. When I returned to my senses, and the worst of my echoed memories had passed, the first thing I felt was - of all things - excitement. Since I had died I had not once been unconscious. My bone body simply couldn¡¯t be knocked out and when it was no longer functional I had been kicked back to my soul space. It appeared that Possession did a lot more than I had assumed and I was excited to find its limits¡­ later, definitely later. At that moment I was more focused on keeping whatever remained in my stomach inside. The rolling of the room and the concussion I was suffering from combined to most nauseating effect. A few bouts of dry heaving later and I was finally able to take stock of my surroundings. I was on a ship, that much was obvious from the motion of the ocean. I still was in possession of all my things, including a gold ring set with a ruby which Henry had used to focus his fire magic spells. My Detection skill informed me that meant that they had bundled me in here in a rush and did not have time to return and search me, they hadn''t even taken my knife. And where was here? My best guess was the ship''s brig. My hands and feet weren¡¯t bound but I was packed into a cell, not much bigger than a broom cupboard. It was barely big enough for the length of a hammock which lay above an empty bucket. I peered out through the wooden bars and saw very little. It was dark, from the sound of water and men stomping about, above me was the deck of a ship but the boards were well fitted and tarred to stop water from coming through and, as a side effect, light. My Life Sense wasn¡¯t constrained in the same manner as my eyes however. Using the tiny life forms that lived everywhere it was able to paint a picture of my surroundings. Using it I could see through my wooden bars, across a narrow walkway, and into an identical cell. Down the corridor which split our habitations there were no other cells. To one end there was a locked wooden door, to the other, either the bow or stern - I couldn¡¯t tell from in here. Only two cells seemed like few until I thought more about it. When travelling by ship in my past I had always been afforded a berth but even then it had to be small, every inch on a ship had to count. I didn¡¯t want to think what they might have to do if there was a mutiny and they couldn¡¯t imprison more than two people. My train of thought was broken by the sound of coughing, spluttering and someone making other sounds that indicated they were coming-to in much the same manner I had. I unfocused my eyes, whilst they were closed, and my Life Sense only detected the larger life forms. I was able to make out the sailors above, running about and making ready. In the opposite cell I saw what I missed before, a humanoid figure rocking about in the hammock. Thud, they ceased to be in the hammock and struck the wooden planks rather hard. This roused them from their state of semi consciousness as indicated by their shout of ¡°ahh fuck!¡± I could make out a lithe figure who¡¯s slimness belied their height. They were only about 5¡¯ 7¡± but appeared taller. They rubbed at their noise as they rose on shaky legs, adjusting to the constant movement of the waves. They looked about, much the same as I had, but evidently they had seen more. ¡°Oi kid.What time is it?¡± she asked. For it was a woman, the voice was feminine and with a lilt that I found intoxicating though completely juxtaposed to her words and manner of speech. I shrugged as a test and she saw it clear as day. She was about to say more but just then the ship lurched as it left the dock and she stumbled and fell. I managed to keep my feet as my Life Sense was still on large lifeform mode; I had seen the other sailors bracing and had copied them. She moaned in pain, clutching again at her nose as it had smacked into the wall during the launch. ¡°Why am I in here this time?¡± she asked, once she had made sure it wasn¡¯t broken. ¡°How would I know that?¡± I responded without inflection. Still, my words seemed to raise her ire. ¡°How am I supposed to know what you know?¡± she snapped, annoyed. As she asked the rhetorical question she searched herself much the same as I had done. I could see the outline of the life form that was her pat itself down; pulling things out of pockets and returning them. Her figure froze all of a sudden before she screamed, ¡°Where¡¯s my mandolin?!¡± with such shrillness that I swore I saw the eardrums of a nearby seagull burst. Once the ringing had stopped I asked the question that was at the forefront of my mind, ¡°What''s a mandolin?¡± At my question she ceased her panicked searching and turned to me. ¡°How do you not know that?¡± she asked with a tone that indicated my lack of knowledge was some kind of personal affront. This virtual stranger then proceeded to give me a lecture on the mandolin, its evolution from the lute, and its place in modern composition. By the end she seemed less angry, I believe this may have been helped by my passion to learn emphasised by the constant questions I asked about the instrument. She was just wrapping up her lecture when the door to the brig was opened. Light poured in, it was only from a candle but lacking it for some time had made us both sensitive. We shied away at first, covering our eyes like mole people. The man that hobbled in was wiry and grey and had the demeanour of a wild dog that had survived its fair share of fights. His peg leg thunked against the wooden floor as he made his way along to us. Under one arm he held a giant pot and in the other he held a ladle. He didn¡¯t say a word as the orc boy who had followed him silently gave each of the prisoners a bowl through the bars. Stumpy waited for me to hold out the bowl before sloping down a ladle of gruel and saying, ¡°the captain will be seeing you later,¡± before turning with a scowl to the other prisoner. He didn¡¯t respond to either of our questions, only fulfilling his job before thunking away. Thankfully he stopped a moment at the door to light a candle that was held there. The orc child lingered a while longer in the doorway, looking like he had something to say, but the older man called and he scurried away - closing the door behind him. I turned to my fellow inmate and, now that my eyes had adjusted to the light, I was finally able to see her. She appeared of an elven persuasion, although shorter than any I had known before. Her face also lacked the usual angularity, instead sporting a softened nose and chin. The bridge of that nose was dusted with freckles which brought out her light brown eyes matched by her long chestnut hair. I used Identify: Name: Identify skill too low to determine. Title: Identify skill too low to determine. Race: Bosmer (Wood Elves) Class: Bard Lv.28 Age: Identify skill too low to determine. Skills: Identify skill too low to determine. Spells: Identify skill too low to determine. Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine. Congratulations: The woman whose name I couldn¡¯t ascertain shivered as if someone had poured cold water over her before staring daggers at me and covering herself as if I had been peeping at her. ¡°Did you just use Identify on me?¡± she accused. ¡°I was curious.¡± I stated, unapologetically. When she removed her arms I was able to see she was dressed much the same as the crew. ¡°That¡¯s not something you do to someone without asking,¡± she explained, as if to a child - which I suppose I was. She then proceeded to try and use Identify on me. I felt the unpleasant feeling wash over me but fortunately it wasn¡¯t strong enough to break my Conceal skill. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Congratulations: ¡°You have the Conceal skill!¡± she said in something between an awed whisper and a panicked squeak. She looked about to ensure no one was listening, which of course no one was, before adding ¡°Don¡¯t you know that skill is illegal.¡± She pressed as close as she could to the bars to ensure the words wouldn¡¯t travel. I looked her up and down for a moment before bursting out into laughter. ¡°Unless I miss my guess you were, until recently, a member of this crew. And I think they are pirates, smugglers at the very least.¡± I said. Her reaction was all the proof I needed. She flushed and looked away before saying ¡°I wasn¡¯t really one of them.¡± She mumbled. ¡°How can you be only halfway committed to piracy?¡± I asked with genuine curiosity. ¡°I didn¡¯t join them for that. I just wanted to write songs about adventure. Like the Wandering Bard.¡± She said, each line quieter than the last as the embarrassment seemed to overcome her. Despite this she said the last with defiance in her eyes, as if she expected a child like me to laugh at the idea. ¡°Who¡¯s the Wandering Bard?¡± I asked instead, ever curious. She was flabbergasted at my question, as if she didn¡¯t believe there was anyone who wouldn¡¯t have heard of him. There proseede a lengthy explanation in which she bombarded me with facts about a near mythical figure in the musical world. A Bard whose name was lost but was known as the Wandering Bard. He was said to have completely changed how people viewed music, his methods were never thought highly of in his time but were later revered. To add to his accolades his songs revealed information from within an organisation of vampires that was later destroyed by the church of light thanks to this information. He also wrote about dragons and other creatures with such detail and with such evocative music that he must have seen them in person. ¡°What happened to him?¡± a young child¡¯s voice, no older than ten, broke in. I turned about, surprised. I hadn¡¯t noticed him entering the brig and by the little jump the Bosmer made neither had she. The orc child I had seen earlier was staring, slack jawed, at the other prisoner. She had been talking for nearly an hour and so engrossed was I that I had no idea when he had entered. ¡°When did you get here, Scrub?¡± the Bard asked when she had calmed down. The kid lifted his fingers to count them and dropped something in the prosesse. It glinted in the waning candle light before jangling against the floor. ¡°Half an hour.¡± the orc child announced before darting down to pick up the object. He arose, clutched in his green hands a large ring with a number keys attached. ¡°Scrub¡­ what are you doing with those?¡± the elf asked in a suspicious tone. The orc thrust them forward with a proud smile, offering them to the prisoner. ¡°Ohh Scrub¡­ that¡¯s very kind of you but the captain would know you let me out, those are the cook¡¯s keys.¡± the Bard explained gently. ¡°Not to mention we¡¯re on a ship at sea; where would she go?¡± I added but immediately regretted it. The child was on the verge of tears, having had his good deed turned against him. The Bosmer woman started comforting him and I was about to congratulate him on his bravery when I was thrown off my feet and into one of the walls. I picked myself up quickly and looked about. It was as if the ship had hit an iceberg, and the sounds of men screaming and battling could be heard even from here. Quickly changing her mind the woman snatched the keys from the kid and freed herself. She was about to leave when I coughed to summon her attention. ¡°What?¡± she asked, impatient. ¡°I think I may be of some assistance.¡± I offered. ¡°Ha, a kid who was stupid enough to get caught, I don¡¯t think so.¡± she said, turning once more to investigate the hullabaloo. ¡°I am a Wizard.¡± I said but she only scoffed before turning once more. ¡°Fine.¡± I mumbled to myself before using a Necrotising Bolt on two of the bars, waiting a few seconds for the spell to have its effects, then kicking down the rotten wood. The kid was staring, open mouthed, at the display. ¡°Okay, you can come.¡± she relented reluctantly. ¡°My name is Osseus.¡± I said, offering her a hand. ¡°Gemma.¡± she returned, shaking my hand rapidly before heading hurriedly through the hull. We rushed through a mostly empty hull, hammocks were tied off to one side - only taken down when people needed to sleep. I was forced to stop at one point but Gemma continued heedless. I stopped because I came upon a familiar chest. Using Necrosing Bolt several times I eroded the lid and punched straight through it, bypassing the locks. On the inside I found something I didn¡¯t know I could miss so much. There in the wooden box were all the bones from my knee down on the left side. I set a hand upon my tibia and a tingle went up my spine, wherever it was. ¡°Hurry up,¡± Gemma called, the sounds of violence intensifying. She stood impatiently at the hatch to the deck. I picked up the whole box and made an awkward shuffle towards her. Seeing the situation as untenable I looked about for a solution. Within the hold there were any number of trinkets of value but one in particular caught my arcane eye. Resting atop a crate was a black velvet bag, about the size of a coin pouch. The spatial magic it contained indicated it was exactly what I needed. I upended the contents of the wooden box into the bag, the opening stretched to fit all the bones. When it had taken in all of them it didn¡¯t even appear swollen. With a grin I withdrew my fibula before stashing the spatial bag in a pocket of my robes. Gemma was jumping with impatience at this point as she waved me forward. Drawing near, I noticed that she had acquired an instrument, similar to a lute but with a triangular body, I assumed it to be the mandoline she praised so highly. When I arrived at her side she started up the ladder to the deck. Scrub tried to follow but Gemma told him to wait below deck until she came back. As she ascended I could tell by the look on her face that she was nervous for the fate of the crew. Whatever had come between her and them to land her in the brig obviously hadn¡¯t dampened her feelings for them. She came top side first and as soon as she did she began playing a heavy, repetitive rhythm. I followed up next and saw so much in the blink of an eye that I was forced to blink twice more, teared up from the sudden brightness. It was absolute chaos. The captain¡¯s tricorn hat was flying like a stingray overhead, the eyes of the skull and crossbones emblazoned upon it surveying the battlefield. A south bird in its cage, spinning about wildly. Thick slimy worms about the thickness of my arm squirmed about the deck in a swarm. The creatures sparked and zapped, not strong enough to kill but they piled on whoever was trying to attack. ¡°Electric eels?¡± I asked with some confusion. I was about to laugh at the sight, grown men and women fighting the creatures off desperately with anything they could get their hands on, their sabres discarded, when one of the blighters wrapped itself around my neck. My vision became a white static and every nerve in my body fired at once. Gemma''s power ballade broke through the agony and I felt empowered. In a rage unbecoming of any serious mage I ripped the eel off me and threw it away. When I was once more in charge of my faculties I discovered I had been lying on the deck spasming, drool running down my cheek. I picked myself up only to find half the crew was in the same position and the size of the horde had doubled. Larger specimens were starting to worm their way onboard. The other half of the crew was gathered up the deck, near the helm, the captain standing boldly at their centre. I could tell at a glance he was the captain, he sported a mane of bright red hair, luscious even for a lion beastman. He exuded an aura of command and it combined with the effect from Gemma¡¯s bard skill, unliving blood pumped through my undead veins like icy fire. I grabbed my fibula and started firing off Necrotising Bolts, the improvised wand allowing me to release much more of my mana, as well as boosting the spells effects. I used the spell in its large bubble-like form, engulfing dozens of the writhing creatures at a time. It''s effect still wasn¡¯t the strongest it had been; even so, they were turned into putrid puddles in seconds. A shout came from the crew, ¡°Look out.¡± someone cried. I spun about to see eels falling all around. I looked up and a number had climbed the mast, trying to fall on my head. I dodged what I could and shot what I couldn¡¯t but there were hundreds of them. Whenever one landed on me I activated my new spell, Death¡¯s Touch, killing them almost instantly. There was time enough for a quick shock and after I would lose concentration, causing the battle to slip ever in their favour. Seeing my predicament, a wind mage amongst the crew used a mini tornado spell in an attempt to give me some air. It failed and I was at the heart of the wind storm. By the time the spell was over most of the creatures were dead from contact with me but my nervous system was fried. Congratulations: Seeing the reduced numbers the captain shouted something and the crew cheered as they rallied, preparing to rescue their stranded members. I wobbled slightly and leaned against a barrel for support. I was just about ready for a nap, thinking perhaps one of the officers would be so kind as to knock me out again, when a great rumbling came from the ocean. I looked about, trying to find its source but I needn''t have bothered. The waters churned and a giant eel - the size of the ship - burst forth. It shot straight up into the air for several seconds, leaving everyone gaping gormlessly. Then gravity took hold and it began to fall right on top of the deck. The air was filled with the sound of splintering wood and dying men, the ship was cracked in two. To add insult to injury, all of the droplets of water which splashed off the beast turned into beads of lighting death. I saw one strike a dwarf and he was electrified so badly that he was left smoking. The giant electric eel had become stuck however; both flanks stabbed with either half of the splintering ship - keeping it, momentarily, together. It wriggled violently and the sound of crackling electricity intensified. In desperation I used anything I could think of. It was too high level for Death¡¯s Touch. Necrotising Bolt only left dead sores on a creature of this size. Wind Blade, even with my fibula wand, only left paper cuts. There was no earth about to use any of my earth spells and neither of my aura spells were powerful enough to have an effect in my current form. Finally, I turned to my last available spell; one I¡¯d avoided because of the cardinal rule of naval warfare. I let Flames rip forth from my hands. It was only able to slightly dry out a patch of skin. I let my hands drop in defeat, resigning myself to a long swim. Just then, a thunk came from near the beast. I looked up to see a barrel rolling along the deck, coming to rest against the eel¡¯s side. ¡°Set it alight.¡± a rough voice called. I spun about to see the captain on the far end of the deck, pointing to the barrel. Gemma stood beside him and gave me a solemn nod at the unspoken question. I turned back to it and readied the spell. Come what may, at least she has made up with her friend. I thought as I prepared myself for whatever would happen. I used the Flame spell. As soon as a tongue of flame touched the barrel my vision went white and the world exploded. For the next couple of seconds I faded in and out. I was standing on the deck. I was hundreds of feet in the air, surrounded by flying chunks of eel meat. I struck a seagull so hard all that was left was an impression on my robes. I struck the water and it brought me back round. I looked at the sunset, a ship burning on the horizon and nothing else in sight but water. I thought I should feel regret but all my brain could focus on was: What was in that barrel? Status 5.0
Status 5.0
Name: Osseus ?
Titles: Archmagus(ish), Savant II, Soul Devouer, [LF-RF]: ¨‹
Archmagus(ish): Unique With the knowledge and experience one hundred times that of a common mage, and the power to match, one is granted the Title of Archmagus. Lacking experience in this world''s magic and with power still to be tested one (and only one) is granted the title Archmagus(ish). This Title grants: | 20 10 Intelligence | 20 10 Willpower | 20 10 Wisdom |
Spell Slinger: Common Able to use the most basic of proficiency, a Spell Slinger may be a novice mage or spell sword. This Title grants: | 2 Intelligence | 1 Willpower |
Savant I : Uncommon Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to a promising start. This Title grants: | +10% experience gain in Lich Class |
Savant II : Rare Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to an exceptional start. This Title grants: | +15% experience gain in Lich Class |
Detective: Rare Able to solve mysteries and bring ne''er-do-wells to justice. This title was awarded for completing the Quest: Murder at the vicarage. This title grants: | +10 perception I Ability to work on any murder case in the kingdom |
Soul Devourer: Epic Consuming the stuff of souls comes with both rewards and punishments | +20 inteligence I People who do not know you act negatively towards you |
Lord of Far-Reach Fort: Knight [locked] This is a lord title and grants the owner access to the settlement system. If owned this title is automatically selected but takes no title slots. This title grants: | access to the settlement system at Knight rank |
You currently have 3 Title slot(s) available
Race: Skeleton: ¨‹
Human Humans are one of the most prolific breeders in all the land. They come in a wide variety of colours and creeds and are able to take nearly any class and profession but have no innate talents for any. They are a short lived species of average height, not able to live more than a century without magical aid. Humans gain: | +10% Xp |
Zombie Zombies are the most common form of undead and can be made from most of the living races. They are known for their lacking intelligence and undying strength and tenacity. Zombies gain. | +10 Strength | -10 Intelligence | -5 Agility I Ravenous (N/A due to Possesion skill) |
Skeleton Skeletons are an advanced form of undead, usually evolved from zombies. They typically have slightly more intelligence and agility and are harder to kill. Skeletons gain: | + 3 agility | -1 strength | Life Sense | Bone Claws | Bone Articulation |
Changing Race is incredibly uncommon and only usually happens as the result of a drastic physical change or magical mishap.
Class: Lich ¨‹
Lich: Rare Lv.25 (Capped untill subclass is chosen) The Lich class has three requirements: 1. A Lich must have had a magic based class in life. 2. A Lich must be Undead. 3. A Lich¡¯s soul must have been detached from their body and attached to an item (this item can be the aforementioned body but it can also be changed). if the Lich class is available it is taken automatically. If all class slots are full it will replace your lowest Lv. class. Lich¡¯s use magic as their main form of attack, focusing on the death, poison, or elemental schools.
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ¨‹
No professions are currently available. Demonstrate aptitude in a given field to unlock a profession or apprentice under a Master. Three Profession slots are open.
Skills: SP - 3 ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.10 The undead have a natural hatred for all life, without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher level Undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Levelling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense.
Bone Claws: Lv.7 Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie making their attacks weaker but their bodies are far faster making slashing and piercing weapons an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Levelling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Bone Articulation: Lv.12 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a skeleton''s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Levelling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate.
Identify: Lv.4 Users can Identify the level, up to ten levels above themselves. At higher levels one can learn the target''s highest levelled class, profession, title, even approximate health and stamina.
Conceal: Lv.4 Hide from others Identify type skills and spells. Doesn''t work if the other party''s skill is considerably higher level.
Detection: Lv.1 When concentrating, users can notice things others might miss. You also gain an innate sense when things don''t quite add up. At higher levels the missing pieces are easier to spot and may even glow to your vision.
Astral Projection: Lv.2 Detach your soul from your body at will. This skill can be used to traverse the astral, hence its names. Be warned - creatures in the astral are often dangerous and attack the soul directly, they are also usually uncomprehendable to mortals. If your soul is destroyed you cannot be reincarnated.
Possession: Lv.4 With the power of one¡¯s soul alone you can take over a vacated body. Once higher skill levels are reached one can temporarily possess the living.
Passive skills:
Magically reinforced bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptism in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands a chance of damaging them. Be warned this does not increase the strength of your bones'' connections.
Water Resistance: Lv.3 Chosen as the Lv.10 Lich class ability. This ability grants a resistance to water based attacks. Additionally movement is less impeded by water/rain. Level is increased by resisting water.
Soul Manipulation: Lv.10 Chosen as the Lv.20 Lich class ability. This ability grants the user the means to see souls and manipulate them in a rudimentary fashion at higher levels a practitioner of soul manipulation might rip the soul out of one adversary, bend it to their will, then send it after another. This skill increases with use. Be warned, manipulating souls can have irreversible side effects. It is advised not to use this on yourself or friends until it reaches Lv.25.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase skill levels.
Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.10 (max) Folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point one can create a projectile of necrotising energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Bone Armour: Intermediate Lv.20 (max) Lv.15 Class Spell. This Spell summons bones from the netherworld to serve as armour. The higher one''s level the thicker or stronger the armour is, depending on caster.
Death''s Touch: Advanced Lv.5 Lv.25 Class Spell. This Spell kills anything that does not resist with but a touch. Increasing the level decreases the mana consumption and increases the level of target that the spell works on.
Learned Spells:
Wind Breath: Basic Lv.5 Melding one''s mana with the air round them allows one to create small gusts of wind. Suitable for moving small objects. The strength and accuracy of the spell is increased with each level.
Sunscreen: Basic Lv.4 By constraining darkness manna into a ball and letting it seep out around one, one can block the sun¡¯s effects temporarily. The higher the level of this spell the less mana required, the longer the effect, and the stronger the effect.
Minor Finesse: Basic Lv.4 This spell temporarily boosts coordination and alacrity of movement by moving small amounts of mana around one¡¯s nervous system.
Preserve Meat: Basic Lv.3 By enveloping meat in a small amount of time mana one can slower or even prevent time¡¯s effects; at least for a short time.
Flame: Basic Lv.1 By igniting one¡¯s mana after focusing it to a point they can create a stream of fire. This is the basic spell all fire mages should learn, although it is the weakest it is the most versatile.
Wind Blade: Intermediate Lv.3 Sharpening the air with one''s mana onc can create a blade from nothing but wind. Properly used this can even cut through steel.
Rock Throw: Intermediate Lv.1 Pulling from the earth one can shape a projectile from rock. This is a simple attack spell for earth mages and is very versatile.
Magma Lob: Intermediate Lv.2 A super heated version of Rock Throw this spell does what it says on the tin, perfect for when things are heating up.
Shocking Aura: Advanced Lv.3 Pulsing one''s mana in and out of their skin rapidly creates an electrical aura. The power and radius of the aura are increased with level.
Necrotising Aura: Advanced Lv.4 Withers everything in an area about the caster. This spell is more mana intensive than Necrotising Bolt but covers a larger area, perfect if one finds oneself trapped in the belly of a beast.
Illusionary Skin: Expert Lv.9 Pulsing one''s mana gently and continuously around one''s skin (or bones) creates an illusionary skin atop the original. The complexity of this spell allows for one to change: skin colour, hair pigmentation, eye colour, and scars/tattoos so long as they are only skin deep. This is a channelling type spell and requires a constant flow of mana to function.
Earth Golem: Expert Lv.1 Shape the earth to your will, then give it one of its own. This spell has two parts, first one can shape the earth into whatever form they prefer, then one can breathe life into their creation. Higher levels of this spell lower the mana cost and increase the amount of mass which can be animated.
Wind Domain: Master Lv.1 A master ranked spell that puts all the wind within one''s domain under one''s command. This spell is tricky to use because the air in the area of effect becomes part of the caster for the duration of the spell. However when mastered one becomes effectively the only wind mage within their domain.
Storm Cloak: Unique Become the storm.
Attributes: AP - 0 ¨‹
Strength: 21 (+10) Strength determines how hard one hits, and how much force one can exert and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 3 (-5) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Charisma and its effects are inverted among the undead.)
Perception: 11 Perception affects reaction speeds and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 (+1) Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ (-10) Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 30 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
Chapter 7: The Curse I Chapter 7: The Curse I After my brief time aboard a ship, I had been flung out into the ocean. I watched the remains of my vessel burning up before the current took me away. I was left for seven days with nothing to occupy me but myself. The only saving grace was the weather, the sea was calm and still the entire time. I layed on my back and simply drifted, holding my possessions on my chest in the spatial bag to prevent them from getting waterlogged. Left with only my thoughts and no experiments to keep me busy things were not good, suffice to say I thanked whichever gods were listening when, on the seventh day, I was rescued. I was picked up by a bark, taking cargo to a town further up the coast. They had thought me to be a corpse at first, so still and pale was I. Some enterprising, and less than scrupulous, members of the crew had planned to haul up the body and search it for valuables - all under the captain''s nose. One sailor, a burly human with sun-kissed skin and faded tattoos, shrieked like a wyvern when he saw the body he had just dragged onboard stand and thank him. More was the pity for him as this allerted the captain and he emerged from his cabin. That quelled the tense atmosphere that had followed my sudden lifefulness, unbeknownst to the captain. Had he not arrived when he did, I judged the crew might have attempted some form of villainy to gain whatever coin they thought should be theirs''. The captain was oblivious to the nature of his crew, when he was around they behaved as if their mother was watching - always polite and courteous. A rotund man who tried and failed to grow a beard, he was always jolly and well natured - loved by his crew. As soon as he discovered I was aboard he offered me his own quarters and promised to get me back to land. I tried to offer what little silver I had but he refused. Throughout the two day journey I made sure to stay close to the captain as that moment had convinced me the crew might try something untoward. The trip was ultimately uneventful. When we docked in a large trading town called Dommoc. The captain offered several times to use his merchant connections to get me back to my family. He was so persistent that I eventually lied and told him that my immediate family had died on my ship which had sunk but I had relatives near Dommoc. I felt bad afterwards as he truly appeared to feel for me, a stranger. When we parted on the docks he shook my hand and pressed something hard into it, he looked up and gave me a conspiratorial wink. I walked away from the whole ordeal a gold mark richer. I went to the local branch of the guild but they had already received news that the tower quest had been completed so I asked instead if Dommoc had a library, since I felt I needed a break. As it turned out it did; being a hub for merchants, education was important and the library had a large collection of books. Unfortunately, being a hub for merchants, there was a fee to enter and a steep one at that. I had to say goodbye to my second gold mark for one day¡¯s perusal and the books were not even allowed to leave the premises. The building was imposing, made of stone - carved into pillars holding up the massive structure at each corner. It was not in keeping with the squat wood-beamed houses around it but that was true for many buildingings in this town. Eccentric trader¡¯s tastes fueled by the wealth which evidently passed through Dommoc created an eclectic skyline. Each major building was in a different style; all stitched together with the plaster and wood constructions which seemed most common in this world. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. When entering the Dommoc library I was greeted with an uninviting reception. The room was large, all four floors peeled away to expose grand high ceilings covered in elaborate frescos. Being a nautical town most of the images were of gods of the sea, or monsters from the deep. A giant electric eel was even depicted constricting a frigate, its occupants wailing in shock and despair. The front desk was separated from the atrium by thick mana-infused-steel bars. A door led into the library proper and was made of the same sturdy material, supported by a number of wards. When I came to stand in front of the receptionist I was ignored, he was deeply engrossed in a book. I coughed to make myself known. He stopped reading, took one look at me, and with a sneer made a shooing motion before returning to his book. I was an adolescent with sea stained robes but even so I found it incredibly rude. I coughed again. He rolled his eyes and pointed to a sign on the front of his booth denoting the gold mark entrance fee. In response I slammed a coin down onto the counter. He seemed startled then annoyed by the sudden noise but he didn¡¯t say anything, only working some magical mechanism that was out of my sight. A moment later there was a clunking sound and the door to the archives opened. He then slid a mana stone over to me and pointed to another sign which read ¡°No candles allowed. Punishable by loss of dominant hand.¡± He then returned once more to his reading. ¡°Jackass.¡± I murmured as I entered the stacks. It was shadowy, the place had no windows to protect from sun damage and there was a spell on the whole building which kept the humidity low. The only light came from mana stones, some hung from the ceiling at intervals but only in the main corridors and the stone the clerk had given me was barely enough to read by. Still I was excited, the event at the tower gave me a hankering for some books. I spent a good hour looking for texts on magic before giving up and asking a librarian. I then learned in this, and most other, countries a spell monger¡¯s licence was required to sell spells or magical knowledge of any sort and their guild had lobbied for the exclusive right to own works in a commercial setting. For more than three hundred years they had a monopoly on the sale of magical knowledge outside of educational institutions. Frustrated, I settled down to a bit of light reading in one of the tabled areas; a book on coastal erosion as it so happened. I had gotten to a section on cities, lost to the sea, when a sound disturbed me. By this time most people had left the building and there was only half an hour or so until closing, by my estimate. The sound which had drawn me from my session was a kind of muffled sobbing. I looked about the reading section. There was only one other person there, a kid - his head on the desk covered by his arms. Annoyed at the disturbance I got up and walked over to them, they didn¡¯t notice so I tapped them on the shoulder. When they looked up I could finally see their face. It was a boy, about the same age as my current vessel, he had short brown hair combed neatly to the side, brown eyes, and a long face thought he was of average height. His clothes were simple, a red doublet and hose, but they were fitted and made of high quality fabric. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m¡­ sorry,¡± he began, sniffling, but then devolved into tears. Reluctantly I took a seat beside the crying child and started rubbing his back as I would the boralo¡¯s who had figured out the experiment they were involved in was likely fatal. It seemed to work and slowly but surely he began to calm down. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked in my best impression of a consoling tone. He seemed mildly surprised that I needed to ask but didn¡¯t make a big deal out of it. ¡°Howard, Howard Phillips,¡± he introduced, his voice still fragile. ¡°Osseus,¡± I returned and went to shake his hand. ¡°Osseus who?¡± he asked, not shaking. ¡°Just Osseus.¡± I replied, patiently holding out my hand. He blinked away tears and looked me up and down. He seemed to come to some prejudicial judgement; nonetheless he took my hand and shook it. I was glad to see that there were some in this world who could look past their assumptions, it was an important trait in the search for knowledge. ¡°What happened?¡± I coaxed gently, now that the waterworks had ceased. ¡°The Curse!¡± he wailed before beginning to cry again. Chapter 8: The Curse II Chapter 8: The Curse II It took some time for Howard to master his emotions once more, by which point an impatient librarian entered the reading room with heavy steps. He took one look at the young Phillips, spun on his heels and walked out quietly. The mention of a curse roused my curiosity and I was burning to know more. My knees bounced up and down as I continued to console the child, impatiently waiting for him to say more. Eventually, he did. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have said that,¡± he choked out between sobs. ¡°My family tries to keep it a secret.¡± he said, pleading for me to stay quiet with his expression alone. ¡°It¡¯s okay, you can tell me anything,¡± I said, my excitement made what was supposed to be a supportive comment sound sinister. ¡°I¡¯m only a kid the same as you, and if I said anything I don¡¯t have a high enough position for anyone to be compelled to believe me.¡± Again he looked me up and down through watering eyes, this time my state of dress worked to my advantage as he relented. ¡°Fine, I need to tell someone, I can¡¯t keep it inside. Besides, everyone in town knows the phillips¡¯ are cursed - it¡¯s impossible to hide.¡± he rationalised to himself before spilling the beans. ¡°You know about my family of course,¡± he began, without giving me time to contradict, ¡°anyway about twenty years ago someone claiming to be a Wizard came to town. The only problem was his magic seemed not to exist. He sold fake potions and suddenly many of the women became pregnant. Rodent repelling charms failed and half the town¡¯s grain was eaten overnight. The Church bell, which had cracked, he claimed to have fixed only for the two halves to fall on a happy couple as they were getting married. After the last, the people dragged him in front of my grandfather. Normally the sentence for fraud would be forced labour, even though the infernites insist those who commit fraud are punished on the eighth circle of hell and have lobbied for the sentence to be more severe. Two people had died in this case so after hearing the defence my grandfather was forced to sentence the man to death, that¡¯s when everything went wrong.¡± Just then he was interrupted by another librarian entering the room, he maintained his composure as he walked towards us - the first bookworm in tow. He came up to us, looked at the boy dressed in red and bowed. ¡°Excuse me young master Phillips but the library has closed,¡± he said in a courteous voice. ¡°I see,¡± Howard replied in a clear tone. Nothing in his voice revealed he had been crying but his puffy red eyes were fooling no one. He then proceeded to follow the librarian out of the building. I remained two steps behind, the receptionist seemed startled to see me in the company of such an esteemed guest but since I was clearly tolerated he didn¡¯t say a thing. When we got out into the brisk night air there was a hansom waiting for my new friend, it was emblazoned with some kind of family crest and he had clearly been expected. He invited me in, much to the chagrin of the driver, and asked me to come to his house for dinner. I accepted readily, eager to learn more of this curse. When we were safely in the privacy of the cab, and the horse had begun to move, he continued his tale with some little prompting. ¡°Where was I¡­¡± he began, staring at the ceiling in thought. ¡°This fake Wizard had just been sentenced to death.¡± I provided. ¡°Yep, that was it.¡± he confirmed, returning his attention to me. ¡°The so-called Wizard railed against his constraints when he was handed down his sentence. He shouted and strained, but when the guard started to drag him away he turned deathly still and a dark shadow seemed to overcome him, at least that¡¯s what my father said. The courtroom fell silent, the accused¡¯s eyes rolled up and he spoke in a voice far deeper than his own, ¡®I place a curse upon you!¡¯ he declared, pointing to my grandfather, ¡®none of the men in your family shall live long passed 35, those of you who are older than this will die within the week.¡¯ he announced before going limp and being dragged from the courtroom, the gentry was abuzz. Of course it was brushed aside as the threats of a doomed man but the next morning people began to fear. When the guards went to the Wizard¡¯s cell he was missing - they were never able to find him again. My grandfather was found dead in his bed, seemingly of natural causes. My father had a dozen brothers, some of which were over 35 and in the next week they all died. The first died in a rockfall when he was inspecting a quarry the family owned. The second was a fan of the arts and would often participate in plays. One night the fake swords had been replaced with real ones and he bled to death in front of Dommoc¡¯s upper crust. And so it went on, whenever the head of the family past 35 it wouldn¡¯t take long for them to die in some accident.¡± Howard paused here, struggling to say the next words. ¡°My father and his twin brother are the last two left of his generation.¡± he choked, ¡°my uncle was born one side of midnight and my father the other. It¡¯s my uncle¡¯s birthday tomorrow, and my father¡¯s the day after and the last three deaths have been on their birthdays and I don¡¯t know what to do and my fathers going to die!¡± he bleated, breaking back into sobs. I wrapped an arm around him in an attempt to get him to shut up while my mind was busy breaking down the conditions of this curse. ¡°I have a few theories.¡± I began tentatively. Howard Phillips perked up at this. ¡°You do?¡± he asked, a mix of hope and suspicion in his voice. In response I used the Flame spell and a clever bit of mana manipulation to create a small dragon out of fire in the shape of my master¡¯s old friend. It flapped around Howard¡¯s head, at my direction, before settling on one of his golden buttons and curling up for a nap. ¡°I¡¯m a Wizard Harry, sorry, Howard.¡± I said in explanation. Young master Phillips was flabbergasted. His jaw hung open as he stared at the tiny figure as it turned to smoke. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I thought an apprentice like you would be¡­¡± he trailed off, indicating my sea stained black robes. ¡°I¡¯ve been at sea for a while.¡± I said, evading the unspoken question. ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter, I¡¯m a Wizard so I might be able to help you.¡± ¡°Sorry, I¡¯d completely lost track; what do you think it could be?¡± he asked with much more confidence in my abilities. ¡°Well, a curse that can kill multiple people has to be a powerful one, the sort only a great sorcerer might cast or¡­¡± I began. ¡°Or what?¡± Howard questioned, cutting in before I could finish. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Or they are someone with an incredibly deep grudge against your family. You said this ¡®Wizard¡¯ that came to town twenty years ago was an outsider?¡± I asked. ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard no one recognised him.¡± Howard confirmed. ¡°Well to have a grudge strong enough to power a curse like this, assuming he is no great-mage, your family would have had to do something truly horrible to him. Killed his whole family or something on that level.¡± I explained. Howard sunk at the news. ¡°I know I¡¯m biassed, but our family has no enemies and I believe we¡¯re well liked by the populus.¡± ¡°But you¡¯re in a position of power?¡± I asked to confirm. Howard looked at me strangely again before something seemed to click in his mind. ¡°If you spent a long time at sea you must have come quite the distance. The Phillips family are the lords of this town and are of fairly high standing in the kingdom. We were an offshoot of the Ghibellines and after they fell¡­¡± ¡°But you are in a position of power.¡± I stated, cutting him off as I wasn¡¯t interested in the politics. ¡°Yes,¡± he replied, startled by my interruption but not offended. ¡°So it is conceivable that some decision your family made could have unforeseen consequences.¡± ¡°I suppose,¡±he allowed. ¡°Then I would like to see a record of any official decisions made around twenty years ago. New polises, noble decrees, firing of staff, it could be anything. If I know what powers this curse, it will be a lot easier to break.¡± ¡°Most of those records are public and we could have found them in the library but there are also copies at home and I think I could convince my mother to let you see them¡­ or we could just sneak into the library at home.¡± Howard replied after thinking it over. ¡°Your mother?¡± I asked. ¡°Mother is in charge of the house, and besides father will be out late taking care of his affairs.¡± Howard said with a crack in his voice. At that moment the carriage did retard until stopped and the door was opened by a footman dressed in black with hints of red, evidently the family¡¯s colour. His face, placid and stoic, broke for a moment upon seeing me in the hansom but he quickly regained his composure. Young master Phillips noticed however. ¡°This is Osseus,¡± he announced, ¡°and he is my guest.¡± he said, emphasising the last word. This seemed to reassure the servant somewhat as he offered a hand to help me to the ground. I ignored him, spun to the side, and jumped onto the pebble driveway. I looked up at a square mansion, large enough to contain the library I had just visited four times over. I was led into the house along with Howard. I could see a look of annoyance pass over the footman¡¯s face every time I was even an inch in front of the Phillips family scion. So I made a game of moving behind and infront of the boy every couple of steps in the hopes the unpleasant man would keel over from apoplexy. Sadly I was only able to make a vein bulge on his forehead by the time we came to the dining room doors. Howard had caught on to what I was doing and had joined in on the game, stifling a laugh every time the man looked round. Our guide opened the large doors for us, and while his face was beet red, when I was the first to step through the door his expression didn¡¯t change and he didn¡¯t make a sound. The dining room was a sight to behold, filled with intricate carvings and a long table as the centrepiece beneath the chandelier. The giant floor to ceiling windows overlooked Dommoc and could see right out to the sea. The people sitting at the table, mostly well dressed women of all ages but all humans, wore a variety of expressions upon seeing me. Howard took the lead once more, to shield me from his family''s scrutiny. ¡°This is Osseus. My guest and an apprentice Wizard.¡± he announced, his gaze focused on the oldest woman sitting near the head of the family table. The head and its right hand were empty, evidently meant for the absent head of the family and his twin brother. The elderly woman, maybe in her 70s or 80s took a moment to examine me then nodded. At this signal the other women no longer stared at me but acted as if I was expected. ¡°Howard, you''re late.¡± another woman chastised gently. ¡°I¡¯m sorry mother, I lost track of time. It was nice for you to wait for me.¡± he replied politely and with a bow. He then walked over to what was evidently his seat, in the time it took for him to reach it a whole new place had been set next to his and a seat pulled back for me to sit in. The family ignored the help as they bustled in with platters full of food. We were seated near the foot of the table with others of our age. Howard appeared to be the oldest of his siblings and cousins and sat closest to the head. We sat in silence until the appetiser was served and the most senior woman had taken her first bite, then the room broke into noise. Apparently it was the signal to talk and everyone began their conversations at once. All the kids wanted desperately for me to demonstrate some magic but I kept having to explain it was rude to do so at the dinner table. Eventually, however, I couldn''t say no to their adorable faces for long and instead of asking someone to pass the salt I used Wind Breath to move it to my hand. I had worried that I would appear ungrateful for not eating the food but the little scamps around me were constantly trying to steal from my plate, I only had to turn away for a moment and my plate was clean. Truth be told I enjoyed the meal and I was laughing by the end of it. Despite the dire position the family found itself in, all of them loved to tell jokes and to my surprise the older women were by far the best at it. The matriarch had me splitting at the sides with one joke she told about a sailor and a cat. Once dessert was finished the table went quiet once more and bowed their heads. The woman close to the head of the table said a prayer and when she was done everyone got up and started to leave. Howard took me by the hand and led me to his mother, stopping her before she retired to the sitting room with the other women of her age. ¡°Mum, can Osseus stay the night.¡± he asked, gripping my hand tightly. ¡°Dear, I¡¯m sure his family is waiting for him.¡± she said in a sweet tone. ¡°I have no family.¡± I replied, honestly. ¡°A master then?¡± she asked with concern etched on her porcelain features. ¡°My master is dead.¡± I explained. Howard gasped at this and looked at me. ¡°Do you have anyone in this town?¡± she asked, truly worried. ¡°No, my ship sank a few days ago.¡± I said, letting her think that was an explanation. ¡°You poor thing,¡± she cooed, ¡°It¡¯s decided then, you''re to stay here until we can find you a new master.¡± I tried to say something but she wouldn¡¯t hear it. ¡°It¡¯s the least we can do for a friend of Howie¡¯s.¡± she said, ruffling my hair, ¡°we were beginning to worry he¡¯d never make any, our family being somewhat outcasts at the moment.¡± ¡°Mum.¡± Howie complained but was ignored as she took him up in an impromptu hug. I was then led by the same footman as before to a guest room. I found, to my surprise, a set of black silk pyjamas laid out on the bed complete with a nightcap and a new silver-rimmed pair of spectacles that matched my prescription exactly. I was left wondering who exactly had the magical powers in this house. Once I had put on the new clothes, stored all my belongings in the black velvet spatial bag, and placed it under the hat for safe keeping a knock came at my door. I opened it to find Howard standing there impatiently. He was wearing similar pyjamas to myself except his had red with golden buttons and trim whereas mine were all black. ¡°Come on, we don¡¯t have much time. It¡¯s my uncle''s birthday tomorrow.¡± he reminded me, ¡°let''s get to our library quickly.¡± and without another word he led me with agitation down twisting corridors and up and down several sets of stairs. We came to a room piled three stories high with bookshelves, he flicked a switch and mana stones illuminated the entire room. He ignored my gawking and led us to one corner. ¡°The records from twenty years ago should be here.¡± he said, picking out one ledger and handing me a book to read through. I nodded solemnly and got to work. Chapter 9: The Curse III Chapter 9: The Curse III We stayed up all night, well I stayed up all night. Something woke Howard at about midnight but seeing me still reading and taking notes he fell swiftly back to sleep - despite his struggles. Light started to come through the windows and was feet from touching my undead flesh, when I remembered to reapply my spells. I set down my quill and stretched. I had gone through every record from 25 to 20 years ago. Books and ledgers surrounded me on the library floor, a small pile also sat beside Howard where he still snored. Together we had gone through everything I could think of. Every receipt related to the estate, every contract, farms that provide meat for their table, the duck they supported in the local race, absolutely everything. In all I had found five people who might have had any motive to do harm to this family and Howard had only found one before sleeping. I hated to admit it but my new friend had been right about his family, they appeared to be truly noble. My list of potential suspects ran thusly:
  1. Porcus Villam - a local pig farmer who provided meat to the Phillips estate at least from 25 years ago to 22 years ago and likely longer. For some reason they started purchasing from another farm. (this was the one Howard had discovered.)
I noticed they had the same initials, perhaps it was a side effect of the curse. A curse this powerful might do something like that and I had no other explanation for it. I shook Howard awake after checking my list. He came-to with a start. Looking at the sun coming through the window he asked, ¡°What time is it?¡± in a panic. ¡°It¡¯s still early, the sun only crested the waves 10 minutes ago. He stood and started pacing, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I fell asleep,¡± he apologised, guilt evident on his face. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I finished the search.¡± I consoled. ¡°It¡¯s just I¡¯ve been up for days trying to find something, anything that might save my dad. Anyway,¡± he said with a cough, ¡°if you¡¯ve completed the list we¡¯ll have to investigate everyone on it, and we¡¯ll have to do it fast. Or else my uncle is going to die today.¡± he put action to his words by stepping quickly to a golden rope which hung by the door. He pulled it twice and the distant sound of chimes could be heard somewhere in the house. A few short moments later the door opened and in stepped the footman from last night. His wig was slightly askew but that was the only sign that he had just woken and ran here. Howard didn¡¯t wait for him to catch his breath before delivering his orders, ¡°ready my carriage, get the cook to prepare breakfast - something we can eat on the go, and fetch some clothes for myself and Osseus. I want it done by the time I reach the front gate.¡± To the servants credit he didn¡¯t question the orders, only bowing and walking stiffly down the corridor. With my Life Sense I saw that as soon as he rounded a corner and was out of sight he broke into a full on sprint. Howard straightened his pyjamas before leading me confidently through the house. He was nothing like the distraught child I had met the other day, now that there was a plan he was determined. To my amazement, when he opened the front door there was a servant standing there holding two outfits. He gave them to Howard who looked at them before retreating back into the entryway and shutting the door. He handed me my set and began to strip without hesitation. The clothes that had been given to the young Phillips were much the same as yesterday¡¯s, a doublet and hose in red with gold accents. The outfit they had somehow made for me was similar but in my signature black with silver highlights. The shoulders were puffed out, as I assumed was the fashion, but not overly so - meaning it wouldn¡¯t impede movement. The doublet and hose had a matching inlay pattern of ivy, embossed with silver. My buttons were of blackened metal and instead of having the Phillips family crest, as Howards did, they had the raised image of a skull wrapped in ivy on each and brushed with silver leaf to bring out the image. I even had a pair of perfectly fitted black leather brogues, the dots making the shape of a skull, which completed the ensemble. I had to remove and put back on my glasses several times to ensure I was seeing it right. How they had managed to come up with something that fit me so perfectly but also suited my tastes in only one night was a miracle. Howard seemed unphased however so I shrugged and put on the clothes. Uncomfortable with doing so, but following my host''s instructions, I discarded my silkwear on the ground for the servants to collect. I was about to step outside when Howard pointed out I was still wearing my nightcap. I took it off and made sure to attach my spatial velvet pouch to the belt which cinched my doublet. I was impressed by the belt¡¯s buckle which was made of silver and was in the shape of a skull with ivy growing out of its eye. The black velvet pouch caught Howard¡¯s attention but his haste stilled his tongue. He led the way through the door and across the drive. Beside the carriage, helmed by a rather grouchy looking driver, was Footman. Since I saw him last he had corrected his wig and now looked immaculate. He handed a freshly cooked bacon and egg sandwich to each of us before asking the young master: ¡°And where would sir like to go.¡± Howard looked to me, which seemed to annoy the servant - though he did his best to hide it. ¡°First stop, the hunter¡¯s lodge outside of town,¡± I provided. Howard turned back to Footman and when he didn¡¯t say anything he prompted, ¡°Well, you heard him.¡± To which Footman replied, ¡°Yes sir,¡± before relaying the order to the driver, who was right behind him and had heard the whole thing. I rolled my eyes at the noble custom before entering the hansom alongside my new friend. With some prompting from Howard we were soon flying along the road at breakneck speed. Thinking I should be ready if we found an evil wizard I withdrew my fibula from the spatial pouch. Howard¡¯s eyes widened when he saw it. ¡°I knew that was a spatial bag!¡± he ejaculated with some small excitement. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it, I can¡¯t even get one. You need an enchanter with a spatial affinity. Can I ask; who was your master?¡± ¡°A powerful man who, it would seem, preferred a quiet life.¡± I answered vaguely. Howard took the hint and reluctantly turned away from the bag, only for his attention to be caught by my wand. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± he asked with a mix of disgust and curiosity. The energy he had, from finally having something to do, was infectious and I answered with some enthusiasm. ¡°This is my wand,¡± I said, handing him the yellowed bone with black runes. ¡°It looks rather sinister,¡± he remarked, taking it gingerly. ¡°Is it a human bone?¡± Howard asked uneasily. ¡°It is.¡± I affirmed. He dropped the bone in disgust at my confirmation, luckily I had anticipated as much and I caught it before it struck the floor of the cab. ¡°Why would you need something like that?¡± he asked, a shiver travelling visibly up his spine. ¡°I know you to be a fire mage, I see that ring on your finger and I know it¡¯s a foci for fire magic. Wait, don¡¯t tell me; are you a dual affinity caster?¡± anticipation was evident on his features. I nodded and he nearly jumped with excitement. ¡°Show me, show me.¡± he ordered, then pleaded. I smiled in response and took some lint from between the cushions and, using Necrotising Bolt with my fibula wand, I turned the dust into dust. Howard cocked his head in confusion so I looked about for a more effective demonstration. We had left the town by this time so I stuck out a hand and took from a passing hedgerow, a leaf. Using a less powerful version of the spell, I withered the leaf to a black husk before it too turned to dust and blew out the open window. Howard was left wide eyed, ¡°You really do have two affinities,¡± he said in awe. I chose not to correct him. ¡°Hang on a minute,¡± he said as his brain slotted into gear, ¡°I thought you apprenticed to a Wizard because you lacked the funds or aptitude for a proper education. With dual affinities you could have gotten a full scholarship to Woden¡¯s, the houses would have been fighting over you.¡± ¡°I did take the entrance exam, but I was turned away for a lack of mana.¡± I explained, using Hal¡¯s story. ¡°Really!¡± Howard exclaimed in disbelief, ¡°I would have thought that could have been overlooked.¡± ¡°Apparently not.¡± I replied simply, not correcting any of his assumptions. Howard thought for a moment then laughed. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked. ¡°My mother. She¡¯ll have a hard time keeping her promise to you.¡± he said between breaths. ¡°I don¡¯t follow.¡± I said. ¡°She said we¡¯d keep you until she could find you a new master but there can¡¯t be many who could teach a dual affinity Wizard,¡± he chuckled. Truth be told I had completely forgotten about that as I didn¡¯t intend to stick around long enough for it to be an issue. I had learned in my last life the folly of being beholden to nobles. I chuckled fakely with Howard to maintain the charade. The carriage came to a halt, horse shoes sparking on sun baked earth, we had arrived at our first destination. ? I stepped out of the cab and immediately soaked my new knee length socks in the long, dew-covered grass which grew on the road¡¯s embankment. I was about to warn Howard but he jumped out before I could say anything and there proceeded cursing, the driver may have laughed but if he did he hid it well. Howard ordered the cab to wait here, at the side of the road, as we walked along the small path to the hunter¡¯s lodge. The driver nodded before pulling his hat over his eyes and trying to catch up on his sleep. As we walked the trail to the lodge I subtly used the Flame spell to dry our clothes. Howard noticed the warming of his breeches and thanked me. Congratulations: The lodge was a space that belonged to the hunter¡¯s guild and could only be used by hunters who were members of the guild, the guild also worked with nobles to insure they were the only commoners who had the right to hunt large game on their lands. There were only three registered hunters in Dommoc and Pugna Vita, the first person on our list, was one of them. We made our way into the forest, the floor blanketed with bluebells as far as the eye could see. I might have taken the time to appreciate it if time wasn¡¯t such a precious thing. It only took about fifteen minutes until we saw the lodge. It was hidden from all sides by brambly thickets and it wasn¡¯t until we followed the path through the foliage that we actually saw the structure, hidden in its glade. The clearing had neatly trimmed grass in a circle roughly 75 feet in diameter. In the centre was the lodge itself, a log construction, two stories high, with an attic. Steps lead up to a deck which stood in front of the house. To our right was a butchering shed, I deduced as much as some birds had been hung on the outside from its roof and blood seemed to stain the small building. Howard strode forward and knocked on the front door, there was no response. I toggled my Life Sense and found no one was inside. One of the windows was unshuttered, Howard didn¡¯t take much convincing to join me in breaking and entering. Once inside we found signs of life, the fire was still crackling away happily, plates were left to dry on the rack, and three pegs were left bare of their coats. When we neared the back door my Detection skill tugged at me. In the rear porch there were the outlines of three shoes marked by hints of mud. ¡°The early bird catches the worm I suppose,¡± Howard said when he was sure the hunter¡¯s were not in. I concurred before proposing: ¡°Should we wait here, or try and find them?¡± I knew the answer. Howard seemed uneasy even at the thought of staying still. ¡°Well at least we know Pugna Vita lives here,¡± I stated, after taking a breath and resigning myself to hunting the hunters. ¡°We do; how?¡± Howard asked, clearly not possessing the Detection skill. ¡°Left to dry on the plate rack, there are two sets of knives and forks and one fork with a sharpened edge; the implement of a one handed person.¡± I said, pointing to the items. ¡°The fireplace set, instead of having a separate scoop and brush for collecting ash, the two are combined. You see, a brush extends from the shovel and can be operated with the thumb like so.¡± I added, demonstrating. ¡°Finally there are the shoes.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°What shoes?¡± Howard asked, looking about. ¡°Here, you see their outline near the door.¡± I pointed out, ¡°based on the scuff marks on the floor, bigfoot square toes is likely a man, as is longfoot pointy toes. Short and dainty however gives me the impression of a woman and here, above it, there is a larger impression on the wall than there is above the other two pairs. This is because she leans against the wall with her shoulder when she puts on her shoes whereas the other two use their hands. Thus we have a one handed woman in occupancy, I doubt there can be many of those in Dommoc.¡± Howard followed my line of logic before saying, ¡°that¡¯s all well and good but how does it help us find her?¡± ¡°Simple,¡± I replied, opening the back door, ¡°we just need to follow the small footprints. It was not simple. It started out that way, we exited the back of the lodge to find another path out of the glade that led into the woods. Following this was easy. Even finding the place where Pugna had left the path was easy, we simply followed the trampled blue bells. However as soon as she began the hunt the trail dried up cold, she didn¡¯t leave so much as a broken twig. No doubt the result of some kind of hunting skill. ¡°What do we do now?¡± Howard asked in a whisper as it seemed like the right tone to use in the middle of a forest. ¡°One moment,¡± I replied, matching his volume. I closed my eyes and looked about with Life Sense. There was no sign of a humanoid figure however I could make out a deer grazing at a stream about half a mile away. ¡°This way,¡± I said, indicating the direction of the deer. I figured the best way to find a hunter would be to find her prey. We walked slowly and as quietly as two well dressed boys could manage, towards the stream. When we were a hundred yards away, and still obscured from the animal¡¯s sight by the forest, I held up my hand for Howard to stop. Even at this distance the deer must have heard something as it rose its head from the water and swivelled its ears. After about a minute it calmed and returned to its drink. I waited a minute more before continuing, slower and quieter than before. So it continued with stopping and starting until the animal was finally in sight. I looked about with both my normal sight and Life Sense but I didn¡¯t see a thing. Still the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I knew we were being watched. We waited a few more minutes until the deer was completely calm. A white fletched streak whistled through the leaves and an arrow sprouted from the doe¡¯s heart, it keeled over - dead. Both of us looked around wildly for its source but neither of us could see anyone. ¡°What are you boys doing so far from the town?¡± a voice asked. It was feminine but harsh. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be trying to illegally hunt?¡± she questioned, still not revealing herself. Howard stood up straight, uncowled, and spoke clearly: ¡°I am Howard Phillips, fourth in line to the Phillips¡¯ name, and this is our forest. The hunters guild hunts here at our pleasure, and I am fully entitled to come here as and when I please. ¡°I apologise, I should have recognised you.¡± the voice returned with sincerity. Soon after a woman of about 40, but in excellent shape, slipped down from a tree and onto one knee. She had chestnut chest length hair, brown eyes and a freckled and weathered face. A bow was constructed around the stump of her left hand, leaving the right free to draw the string. Howard acknowledged her bow with a slight nod that appeared to indicate she was permitted to stand. ¡°How can I be of service to you my lord?¡± she asked in a tone that said she was willing to do anything, even to die, should he ask. ¡°While I am grateful for your reticence, it is not required. Few are so civil these days.¡± Howard said in a formal tone, the inflection of his voice making it a question. ¡°I am aware, my lord, but I owe much to the Phillips family and I wish to show all due respect.¡± she answered honestly, her eyes clear and free of deception. ¡°You do?¡± Howard said before proceeding swiftly to the point, ¡°I was led to believe you felt differently about our family. Did you not write a number of letters to my grandfather, begging for you to be taken back into service?¡± ¡°Before I relay this story, might I be permitted to dress the kill - every second is important after death.¡± she asked with deference. ¡°Can you work and talk?¡± Howard asked in response. ¡°Yes my lord,¡± Pugna said with a bow, before walking to the deer with her knife drawn. ¡°Twenty years ago,¡± she began with no heed for the blood that seeped onto her hands, ¡°I lost my left hand.¡± she said, holding up the stump with the bow attached. ¡°I was a scout with this kingdom¡¯s army, serving in the regiment of Lord Phillips. We were on the run from an unexpected counter attack. We had just made enough ground to camp, so we chose a spot in a valley. We had been separated from the main army and in the eastern jungles an attack could come from anywhere at any time. Us Scouts were on constant patrol, to ensure we weren¡¯t ambushed.¡± she said with a sigh. The guts shlopped out into a hole I had been digging at the hunter¡¯s direction and with a shovel she had provided. ¡°I was young and reckless. I felt our pride had been wounded because we had been forced to flee. Hot blooded and foolish I left my post. I hoped to ascertain the enemy''s position and give us a chance to take them unawares. I was always good at staying hidden in the forest back home, this forest, and with the skills my Scout class had given me I thought I was undetectable. I wasn¡¯t.¡± she said somberly. She hoisted the deer up and Howard and I took its feet. She protested the idea of a noble doing such work but the young Phillips insisted. ¡°Those jungles weren¡¯t my forest, they were those little furry savages¡¯ playground. Before I knew it I had been captured without the chance to even fight back. They kept me for two days, I was a changed woman after that - and not just physically.¡± She paused for a moment to regain her composure. ¡°With the gap in our watch a raiding party of those fuzzy buggers snuck into our camp. They killed 6 good men and women without a sound before the alarm was raised. Sir Phillips roused the men and chased them into the hills. He didn¡¯t give up the hunt for those two days and it was on the evening of the second when he attacked their camp. I had been tied to a spit and if they hadn¡¯t come charging through those trees, I would have ended up in the stomachs of those foul creatures,¡± she said with a shiver as we hung the catch at the butchering hut. ¡°I was saved that day. I confessed my mistake to the commander, Sir Phillips. I knew I should be court-martialled for such an offence but I felt if I owned up to it I would at least die with honour. Your grandfather was a truly noble man, he pardoned me but I was still dismissed. The official reason was my injury but that wasn¡¯t the case, such injuries can be healed after all, though at great expense. He made me swear that I would never take any military focused position again, not as mercenary or soldier or anything else where fighting would be involved. I was also made to swear that I would never get my hand healed, to keep as a reminder of my mistake.¡± she said with a shaking breath as she started to butcher the bird that had been hanging outside earlier, the deer still needing to be exsanguinated. ¡°Looking back it was tough but fair, though at the time it crushed me. I lived to fight you see and without that I didn¡¯t know who I was anymore. I went to the Dommoc scribe after I was sent home and paid him the last of my coin to send letters to the lord on the front line, begging him to let me reenlist. I sought to do something to wipe away my sins as without bloodshed how could I. It was he who suggested I join the hunters¡¯ guild, he even put in a good word with the guild head. I was nearly begging on the streets before I agreed and I have been grateful to him ever since. It was something I found a passion in. However my guilt still haunts me, to this day I still donate half of what I make to the church of healing, who served on the front lines and saved many a life, many a life that I did cost the kingdom.¡± ? ¡°It wasn¡¯t her,¡± Howard said as we hopped back into the cab and I agreed. Before we had left she had sworn that she would do anything in her power to help the Phillips family, all we need do is ask. ¡°Where to?¡± the driver asked when the rapping on the ceiling woke him from his nap. ¡°The Vineson¡¯s new Vineyard.¡± I called back in reply before sitting back to contemplate what we had just heard. The trip was made in a silence of three parts; an awkward silence borne of the experiences the old soldier had relayed, a comfortable silence that came from the company of a friend, and the anticipatory silence that came from the anxiety Howard felt at the idea his uncle¡¯s and father¡¯s life was resting on his shoulders. We stopped not far away at a small hillside plot which was filled with rows of grapes. The road led right to the front door of the villa and we weren¡¯t subjected to wet grass. Howard slammed the knocker three times before stepping back. It took a good ten minutes before anyone answered. When the door finally opened it only did so a crack, I could see a bagged eye through the opening but little more. ¡°What do you want?¡± a horse tenor asked. ¡°I am Howard Phillips, fourth in line to the name, here to see a Mr Paul Vinson. ¡°He¡¯s dead, goodbye,¡± the voice replied, pausing between words to belch loudly. The man on the other side then tried to shut the door on us, I managed to snake my foot in the gap however and I heard a long groan from the otherside. When my foot was thoroughly crushed and my new shoe creased, the door slowly opened. A portly man, half beast kin judging by the furriness of his ears, opened the door slowly; his tired eyes squinting against the light. His shirt was only half tucked in and his waistcoat was unbuttoned, giving a slovenly impression. ¡°If Paul Vinson is dead then; who do I have the honour of speaking to? Dubious though that honour may be.¡± Howard said, intending the last only for my ears. The man let out a long, drawn out sigh; as if talking to us was the most difficult thing in the world. There proceeded a solid minute of silence where the man only stared at the floor before he finally worked up the energy to speak. ¡°The estate now belongs to his only child, Patrick Vinson.¡± ¡°Then I should like to speak to Patrick.¡± Howard said with a tone that brooked no argument. The ornery man grumbled but turned to face the interior of the villa, as he did I got a peek inside - there were people laid about all over the place, sleeping off what looked to be one hell of a night. The man paused to take in a breath. ¡°PATRICK! Get your arse out here.¡± he shouted. A wave of shivering convulsions went through the unconscious occupants, like wind through wheat. I had expected him to go and fetch the man so the yell caused me to flinch unintentionally. Howard smirked as he had remained unaffected. Shortly after a hungover man, in nothing but his underwear, stumbled down the stairs. He was tall with the languid grace that spoke to a life of laziness, his hair was blond and his eyes blue. The man we had been talking to whispered something to him, he nearly threw up, then he came to the door to talk to us. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about my majordomo,¡± the man began, raising a hand to block the morning rays. ¡°He can be a bit rough around the edges, but he¡¯s a good man¡­ most of the time.¡± Howard was momentarily struck dumb that such a man was a servant, I wasn¡¯t surprised given the quality of his own. ¡°How did your father feel about losing his old vineyard?¡± I asked, getting straight to the point. Patrick seemed confused for a moment but, no doubt being told I was here with a Phillips, he answered. ¡°Best thing that ever happened to him, to me.¡± Patrick replied with a cheery laugh. Howard looked confused at this remark, ¡°As I understood it this new patch is not as bountiful,¡± he said. ¡°True, we don¡¯t make or sell as much,¡± Mr Vinson allowed, ¡°but each bottle is worth ten times as much thanks to your grandfather''s endorsement. I¡¯d been meaning to thank your family. ¡°CURLY!¡± he shouted the last back into the house, the sleeping people again shivered in response. The hairy man climbed some stairs laboriously then handed his master a bottle. ¡°Howard was it,¡± the still drunk man began and at a nod of confirmation continued, ¡°I¡¯d like you to have this 86 vintage as a token of my gratitude.¡± Howard accepted the gift with grace then we repaired to the cab, ¡°He¡¯s not our guy,¡± Howard commented with some agitation. I concurred and we were off, racing to our next appointment. ? The third name on my list was also a bust and Howard grew more nervous with each inch the sun rose. We had gone to the flower arrangers¡¯ guild to begin our search for Peter Valentine as I couldn¡¯t find the address. There wasn¡¯t anyone there so early in the morning so we searched Dommoc for a florist. We found one in short order. They too weren¡¯t open but there was an apartment situated above the shop and I was willing to bet that was where the owner lived. It transpired I was correct and we ended up waking a rather upset bosmer woman. After the matter was elucidated she agreed to help us, but not before she extorted the young lordling for all he was worth. Through her we learned what had become of Peter Valentine. He had been driven from the town when the Phillips blacklisted him; however that was not the end of his story. Given his affinity for bees he began an apiarist at a village twenty miles from Dommoc and he had reportedly been successful in his venture - producing some of the best honey around. He had been doing so for the last 21 years meaning he wouldn¡¯t have had the emotion necessary to cast a curse of such power on the Phillips. When we reentered the cab yet again Howard was growing increasingly antsy, his leg bounced up and down without his control. The fourth was equally disappointing. Although she clearly held a grudge, spitting in Howards face when she saw him at her door in the early morning, she was not our culprit. While the young Phillips took the time to apologise for his family¡¯s mistake, he was being surrounded by the woman¡¯s six other boys - now fully grown, I examined her for any traces of magic. I had asked for several ingredients beforehand and I used them now. A chicken leg - to see a person''s past - poppy seeds - to determine someone''s emotional state at the time - and a bluberkin¡¯s howl - to see any lingering attachments a curse may have left behind. Congratulations: Notification: That was something to think about but for right now I was certain this woman had nothing to do with the matter. Howard was starting to look scared as the circle of men around him tightened, having made my determination I decided it was time to help. With a bit of flashy magic I knew I could resolve things. Casting Flame with Hal¡¯s old ring as a focus I raised my hand to my mouth and blew through it. Breathing fire like one of those fire eaters I had seen on occasion at court, I created a hole through which Howard escaped. I was careful to control the flames so they never came close enough to actually burn them. We took the opportunity to leg it back to the hansom. When we sped away Howard caught his breath before saying, ¡°it wasn¡¯t her.¡± I hadn¡¯t yet told him the results of my test so I was curious, ¡°How did you come to that conclusion?¡± ¡°If she was certain my family had been cursed they wouldn¡¯t have tried to jump me, they still feel they haven¡¯t got justice yet. I¡¯ll have to do something to make it right for that family.¡± the last was said more to himself. The next person on our list was easy to check. With just a shovel and half an hour¡¯s work I was able to determine that Phoenix Valdez was, indeed, dead. I had my suspicions but the shrivelled husk of a woman matched the description of the arsonist. We asked the executioner if we could dig at Hangman''s Hill and he was more than happy to oblige, saying, ¡°Dig away, you can take a souvenir if you like,¡± then again someone had to be quite strange to become an executioner. He also told us that, ¡°Phoenix was batshit insane,¡± he was apparently only the executioner''s apprentice when she was killed but he reckoned she could have equally declared a vendetta against any other family, she likely chose Howard¡¯s as it was the biggest and garnered her the most attention. ? So it was, with the sun a quarter of the way through the sky and the horse beginning to slow, that we made it to our final stop. A run down pig farm who¡¯s pigs had long since left. All that remained was a small thatched wooden building with shuttered windows. We first approached a neighbouring farm and asked after Porcus Villum. He, too, was dead. He had died 21 years before, the old man who told us this also said he had a young son but he hadn¡¯t been seen in years. Last the farmer had heard his son had moved to live with family. Just to be sure we broke into the abandoned, ramshackled house. To both of our surprise it was clear someone had been living here. A bed was made and a sack of oats sat by the stove. ¡°Can you detect traces of a curse here?¡± Howard asked with some hope. ¡°It doesn''t work like that, those sort of traces only stick to people.¡± I explained. Howard was disappointed and redirected his energy into searching the surrounding area. When he was sure he wouldn¡¯t find anyone he asked: ¡°Couldn¡¯t you look at my uncle or father or me and trace the curse back from us.¡± I was about to say no but then something struck me. I wouldn''t be able to with the spell I had designed and used earlier; the other spell I knew which would show the connections a curse made as purple ribbons required rare components and more mana than this vessel could channel but the system created spell Curse Detection¡­ To test my theory I tried using it on Howard. I could see connecting but they were murky and indistinct - it was hard to tell if I was just seeing things. By this time Howard was beginning to grow impatient. ¡°Yes,¡± I began hesitantly, ¡°I think I could if I was able to use that spell on someone closer to the curse, your uncle or father.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say so?¡± Howard roared, emotion getting the better of him. ¡°The spell only just levelled up.¡± I lied, not willing to explain my full situation. Howard thought for a second then abandoned the pig farmer hunt and repaired to the carriage with great haste. It was moving before I had fully stepped inside and Howard was determined to give me the silent treatment until we reached our destination; despite my apology. When we reached the house it was late morning and already there was a great happening about the place. A number of carts and uniformed men had arrived and were bustling about excitedly. Howard¡¯s face paled as we reached the entrance and Footman opened the cab door with a sombre expression. Chapter 10: The Curse IV Chapter 10: The Curse IV I tried to stop Howard but he wouldn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, hear me. Looking like death had drawn its long cloak about him, he made his way through the bustling servants and uniformed personnel and into the house. Seeing the catatonic state his face displayed, and the sadness behind his eyes, people parted like birds fleeing a bear. I was two steps behind as he made his way through the entrance, our pyjamas long since tidied away. I followed as he ascended the steps slowly and with the certain rhythm of a metronome. I resigned myself to silence until such time as he was capable of listening. He continued his blank-faced walk until we were alone in the library. He seemed to want to return to the records but his movement stopped in the centre of the room and he seemed unable to budge. I was content to wait until he worked through this. I took from this library¡¯s shelf the same book on coastal erosion I had been reading in the public library. I had just come to a section which speculated that all of Dommoc would be underwater in three hundred years when Howard finally spoke: ¡°I have to see him,¡± he said in a flat emotionless voice. At first I didn¡¯t think much of it, the words were quiet and barely drew me from my reading. When I looked up, however, I was forced to set aside the book once more; he was no longer frozen, slowly raising his hands to his face and examining them. Howard burst forth from his in action with a stomp, ¡°Where might in death there be justice,¡± he began spinning to face me with a wild look in his eye. ¡°For I hath tried and tried, Am I left but to surmise; these eyes, These eyes which look but cannot see, There is no justice in Death - Be there death in justice?¡± he widened his eyes with his fingers as he approached with slow and certain steps. Madness in his eyes, a madness born of: ¡°Grief is all that lies in death. Justice cannot be the net, Which catches right from wrong, Good from bad, Weak from strong. My heart does not call for justice, Which my uncle always claimed to seek. Justice be a weak and feeble thing, Which cannot fly, it has no wings;¡± Howard came within less than an inch of me, staring me in the eye and slapping a hand to his heart. ¡°Revenge! Revenge. That is what my heart calls for, And shall scream for evermore, Until I have with in my sight, That cursed curser¡¯s head upon a spike. Revenge be the eagle to justice¡¯s grouse It flies above every house, And sees into the souls of men, It claws, and bites, and hacks, and rends. When it strikes the beating heart, White with blighted sin, and tart, Still, it stays the bloody organ, Doth play no more than, One, not two, not three, not four, How many shall have to fall before We have our peace, our justice, our vengeance. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. On this day I hath lost a man, Who knew me before I can, With any clarity recall, The faces of our family, all. Tomorrow be it my fathers turn? Then upon some twenty year, My turn shall come, Shall all be clear? No, no. My family be good, be just, be noble! I thought this might have been because, Some evil in our past there stood, But as we have seen today - With eyes that cannot see - No justice can there be, in this. No just cause seeks the death of so many men, Whose lives have been set upon a scale, And judged better than them who would: Drink, and barter, and gamble, and steal, And claw for every meal. That heavy heart of blighted sin, Did not rest within their chest, But within mine? Vengeance has swooped down and taken from me, my pure heart, Who¡¯s beats did thump in time with five other nobel men; now six, Who sought to live and fix, All they could see - but never the curse that lay upon thine own breast. Then to his body we must go, An with your sight we shall know, Which foul demon cursed this sacred man, Who loved as only family can. Let¡¯s spy upon his bloated corpse, And follow the thread of cause, To the man or woman or beast or kind, Who laid the icy kiss of death upon my line; And when I should find them, whole and fine? Death, who justice does not seek, Death, beneath Revenge¡¯s beak, Death, who comes, in time, for all, Death, to this curser, beneath my maul!" Howard was shouting by the end, waving his fist at the heavens, but as soon as his tirade concluded he lost all energy and slumped to the floor in tears. ? After enough tears were shed Howard returned, mostly, to normal. He seemed not to fully remember the last few minutes, but when I helped him to his feet, he did agree that we should see if I could use Curse Detector on his late uncle. ¡°Shall we go then?¡± I asked, starting towards the library door. With Life Sense I saw the scullery maid, who had been eavesdropping, scurry away at my words. ¡°They¡¯ll be guards on his door and they won¡¯t let anyone in until the mortician can make the body presentable.¡± Howard relayed, rather despondently. I was about to ask how he knew that when I remembered how many times this must have happened before. ¡°You fight with a maul?¡± I asked as the thought struck me. ¡°How do you know that?!¡± he asked, snapping his head to me - embarrassment evident on his features. ¡°It was something you said, in that trance.¡± I explained. ¡°Ah¡­ well¡­ I do, of course, know how to use a rapier but I was never very good with it.¡± he said in response. Now that the young noble seemed more responsive I returned to the topic at hand. ¡°If there are guards outside; how will we get in?¡± I asked. ¡°We¡¯ll have to use the escape tunnel, only the family knows about it,¡± Howard informed. ¡°There¡¯s an escape tunnel that runs directly into the master bedroom?¡± I asked, rubbing my chin. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s been there since the house was built. But like I said, no one knows about it except the family.¡± Howard replied. ¡°And me,¡± I added. ¡°And now you,¡± he agreed. I asked if he could get a series of odd but magically significant items as I didn¡¯t plan to rely solely on the system granted power. With the pull of a rope and a couple of moment¡¯s wait I had all I needed. When Footman arrived with the items he seemed to want to stay near to his master but Howard dismissed him. Perhaps he had heard of the boy¡¯s break? If so, this house was full of gossips. Howard led us out and into the garden¡¯s around back. When there was no one about, he approached a statue that rested near the rear wall of the house. It depicted a wise looking man holding a globe and examining it. Howard pressed a certain spot on the globe and a mechanism triggered, opening a passage behind the statue. We entered the narrow tunnel and the wall closed behind us, not even leaving a crack. This did however plunge us into darkness. Howards stumbled on something and started cursing. I saw it was a lamp so I picked it up and lit it with Flame. Howard thanked me then raised the lamp up to light the way. The passage snaked around in between the walls and along the edge of staircases, behind a wall. I had expected it to be full of cobwebs but it must have been sealed so well that the spiders never managed to get in. We came to a panel which marked the end of our journey. Howard pressed on part of the stonework and the panel swung silently outwards on oiled hinges. When I stepped out into the large and well furnished bedroom, I noted the painting on the other side of the panel - as it swung shut. It was a painting of the statue outside. There in a four-poster bed was a pale man who bore a striking resemblance to Howard, although adult sized and of a slightly broader build. Upon seeing his uncle, lying dead in his bed, Howards skin lightened to match the shade of his deceased kin. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be here for this.¡± I offered, worried he might be sick on the scene. I spoke in a quiet tone as I heard the shifting of armoured guards outside the door. ¡°No, no I¡¯m fine,¡± he said, taking a seat and looking anything but. I waited a moment to ensure he wouldn¡¯t faint then I began my work. Curse Detection gave surprising results. I had expected to see a strong connection to the curse with one who had died to it but if anything the curse seemed more distinct about Howard. I needed to enhance the spell to elucidate matters so I retrieved, from my spatial bag, the stomach of a three toed sloth which Footman had somehow managed to source in a matter of moments. Using a first circle spell I added clarity to the vision the system¡¯s spell granted. What I learned surprised me. There was indeed a curse on the family, it was placed there 20 years ago. This curse was weak however, incredibly so. It wasn¡¯t born of any great hatred and it certainly couldn¡¯t kill anyone. The most it could achieve was making someone overlook a stone on the road and trip or something on that scale. I was left baffled, wondering: How did this man die? Chapter 11: The Curse V Chapter 11: The Curse V Something was wrong. I could feel it; an itch at the back of my mind which couldn¡¯t be scratched. Howard, seeming rather faint, poured water from a jug on the bedside table. The water sloshed into the glass and the world seemed to slow as the pieces fell into place. Twenty years ago a man, claiming to be a Wizard, came to Dommoc. Why? Why a wizard of all things? It was easy enough to disprove his claim, the first spell not working should have told everyone. No doubt there was gossip about him, why would The Church allow someone like that to ¡°fix¡± their bell - there was no reason to trust him. The answer was in the curse. It may be weak but it ever so slightly modified the mind of the target. The earlier analogy I had made was apt - looking at the spell with my enhanced Curse Detection, Congratulations: I was able to see the floating mass of purple tendrils that danced its possessive dance about the dead man. And to a lesser extent about Howard. The core of the living curse was hard to see, being both small and hidden by the hatred of its caster. Now that I was looking for it however, it was impossible to miss; the little gem at the things centre was white - the colour of mental mana. Whoever this person was they were able to fool the townsfolk into thinking they were a regular Wizard rather than a specialist in the mental magics, at least for a time. Or that¡¯s what I suspected. If it were the case, and no one knew, slipping his jail cell would be easy: just convince the guard he wants to let you out then make them forget. How were they caught in the first place? Assuming I am correct, they must have a limit to their power; maybe how far they can change someone¡¯s mind, perhaps time is a factor, or maybe they are limited to a certain number of people and he was arrested by too many at once? Data. I needed more data. I pulled at my hair trying to think. I heard the sound of the glass touch Howards lip and my blood ran twice as cold. The Phillips were not being killed by a curse. Howard¡¯s uncle was dead. There was no visible sign of injury. ¡°Wait!¡± I shouted, lunging forward. I would have been too late, his eyebrows rose as I launched myself at him, vaulting the bedside table. Just as the liquid was about to touch the tender flesh which resides within the mouth, the glass disappeared from his grasp. I didn¡¯t see what happened. I heard glass breaking somewhere off to the side. In midair and unable to stall my momentum, I barreled through Howard and the chair he was sitting in. We were left, a tangle of limbs, on the floor. The excitement had returned some of the colour to Howards cheeks. He was working himself up for some form of tirade as we disentangled ourselves when he caught sight of something behind me. Whatever it was seemed to calm his anger so I turned to look. An arrow had sprouted from the floor. Thinking this an attack Howard ducked and tried to pull me down as well. It must have made quite the scene for the guard who entered - shattered glass everywhere, water soaking into the carpet, two crouched boys staring at an arrow and a shattered window. ¡°Attack!¡± he yelled, gaining the attention of everyone in earshot. He then proceeded to place himself between the window and the perceived target, whilst trying to get Howard and I out of the room. During this whole fiasco I had remained calm. I stood when I first saw the arrow and turned to follow its path through the shattered window. In a distant tree, though of a level with the house, I saw the silhouette of a lithe figure waving her stump at me before she slipped away down the trunk and out of sight. By the time anyone else was looking, she was gone. I wanted to relay all I thought I knew to my new friend but the situation didn¡¯t allow for it. He was whisked away by a tide of officers and guards, they tried to separate us but when Howard insisted I had saved his life they reluctantly took me with them to a fortified room, with no windows. It appeared he had gotten the wrong idea of things. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! We were locked in with the two most experienced and trusted of the Phillips¡¯ guards while the rest of the armed men searched the estate and secured the area. The two muscled men stood in silence by the door, ready to act at a moment''s notice. Their presence negated any chance of conversation. I withdrew from my velvet pouch some valerian, which Footman had sourced for me. It was the backup incase, for whatever reason, the first ingredient failed. I would have preferred a certain magical herb but it either didn¡¯t grow here or Footman hadn¡¯t heard of it. I digress, I took the Valerian and burned it to ash with the Flame spell. Howard cocked his head at me, confused, but the veterans didn¡¯t so much as flinch. They didn¡¯t even exchange looks when I began chanting, in what must have been to them, a strange language. Having seen some of my spells before, Howards puzzlement only grew. He shouted some expletives as I blew the powder in the direction of the guards, from six feet away. The older of the two did crack a slight smile at that. The image must have looked rather strange, one boy blowing ash at them from 6 feet away while the other flapped his arms about - trying to get the first to stop. When the two men slumped to the ground, uncontentious, Howard turned to me and asked - with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation, ¡°Why the bloody hell did you do that?¡± Congratulations: I smirked slightly at the effectiveness of a simple bit of mana enhanced herbology before answering. ¡°I need you to trust me. I can¡¯t tell you why I did that, not just now; do you trust me?¡± I questioned, seriously. It took Howard a moment to think it over and I was grateful he wasn¡¯t rash. ¡°Yes, yes I think I do.¡± he finally replied. ¡°Okay, good. Then I need you to stand right here and don¡¯t move. What I¡¯m about to do may be a bit¡­ Uncomfortable¡­¡± I trailed off. I grasped him by the shoulders to hold him still. ¡°Can you do that?¡± I asked. He gulped but nodded. I channelled what mana this vessel could conduct into my right palm. Using my attributeless soul I changed the mana¡¯s type; creating a white ball of mental mana. This body hadn¡¯t had the proper training and it strained to hold the mana in one place without a spell shape to guide it. The mana turbulence in my pathways was so great that a living being would have passed out by now - thankfully I didn¡¯t have the same physiology (unless it was convenient for the plot). Taking the squirming ball I forced it towards Howards head. To him it might have seemed I struggled with an invisible snake, though to his credit he didn¡¯t shy away. The mana touched his forehead and, at first, nothing happened. The next second he was writhing on the ground in agony. I grimaced but continued the process, moving my hand and the mana down his face, around his chest and up and down each limb. Whenever it was brought over an area that section would spasm violently until I moved on. When I was finally complete Howard was bright red and sweating horribly but otherwise fine. ¡°I take it back,¡± he spat out between breaths. ¡°Take what back?¡± I asked, equally out of breath. This body had not been ready for such an ordeal so I slumped down on the floor next to Howard to recuperate. ¡°Trusting you - I don¡¯t.¡± he said seriously. There was a moment of silence before we both burst out laughing, the building emotion just being too much. After the hysterics had passed, Howard asked simply; ¡°Why.¡± as he rubbed life back into his sore muscles. ¡°Second law of magic - like repels like,¡± I answered, pulling myself up on the wall of the armoured room. ¡°What¡¯s the first?¡± Howard asked, not latching onto the part I might have expected. ¡°Doesn''t matter, it doesn¡¯t even apply here.¡± I grumbled as I helped him back to his shaking feet. ¡°Fine then,¡± he relented, ¡°what do you mean by ¡®like repels like¡¯?¡± he asked. ¡°I was checking to see if there was any mental mana hiding in your nervous system, it can be insidious and difficult to spot so I had to check everywhere,¡± I informed. Howard, who was splashing water from the emergency supply barrel over his head, stepped back as his eyes bulged. ¡°You can use mental mana as well?¡± he asked in shock. ¡°Isn¡¯t that an advanced form of wind mana, that would make you¡­¡± ¡°I used an artefact,¡± I lied, trying to hide my slip. The exhaustion had really got me out of sorts. I didn¡¯t want him to think I was some once in a millennia triwizard, even though this body was already a pure magi - a once in 10,000 year rarity. I had often wondered how unlikely it was for me to find a vessel of this sort at all, let alone so soon after returning to the land of the living. I was drawn from my speculation by Howards voice. ¡°Why would there be mental mana hiding in my body?!¡± he asked when the thought hit him. I then relayed to him my theory of the case. He was shocked to hear the ¡®curse¡¯ was not at all what he had thought it to be. Howard was also grateful to learn the tiny curse he had been afflicted with had been expelled from him with my treatment. I asked if he knew of any mental mages. He did recall learning in their histories of a family closely allied to his own which helped conquer this region hundreds of years ago. However few of them were mages and of those who were even fewer were mental mages, though it was higher than the pitifully low average. He dismissed them however as they had fallen from nobility more than a hundred years ago and had a succession of gambling fools in charge of their house. According to him they were likely little more than farmers now. I told him how I suspected Miss Vita was looking out for him and how I believed the water he was about to drink was poisoned. He was enraged to hear that this adversary might have been controlling his own people to kill his uncle. I had to restrain him from running off then and there - with no direction. I relayed to him my plan and once he had calmed down he was all on board. Before the end of this next night the person who had tormented this innocent family for so long would pay! Chapter 12: The Curse VI Chapter 12: The Curse VI Howard''s father, the twin of his uncle yet far skinnier, entered the panic room to ensure his son was safe and to relay the all clear in person. He gasped and stumbled as he came in. His most trusted guards were laid out on the floor, fast asleep. Howards new friend, a pale dark haired boy whom his family had described as being strange but very knowledgeable, at last night¡¯s dinner, was stretched out on the floor. Osseus lay in a puddle of black blood, which appeared oddly small for the knife that was in his heart. Leviticus Phillips didn¡¯t have time for such details however as his son, Howard, was nowhere to be seen. How? He thought as he frantically searched the tiny room. There was practically nothing here, only some barrels containing food, water and a few board games. The world swam about him and he collapsed into the arms of a police lieutenant that had followed him in. This doesn''t make sense, it doesn¡¯t make any sense! He had just lost his brother and had spent twenty years coming to terms with the fact that tomorrow would likely be his last day. How could his son have been kidnaped; or worse? The lieutenant, a man by the name of David (of no relation), was more critical of the scene. He let one of his juniors take the burden he was holding before examining the room. The door had not been forced and there were no other means in or out. He had learned that Howard was the only one inside with a key. The guards were still breathing but after checking the child¡¯s pulse he was sure he was not. The blackness of the blood seemed at first a clue but he knew some people of mixed race didn¡¯t always have the same coloured fluids. His summary of events ran thus: Howard had quarrelled with this new found friend. Howard¡¯s mother had spoken highly of him but he was still new and it was easy to hide one¡¯s true self for but a day. The guards would have tried to stop them but they had been discovered asleep roughly in the position they had stood watch. This meant they were knocked out before they could react. Being of a high Level no simple spell would have worked on them. A poison might have, since it worked on a physical level, but there was no way anyone could have administered it without them moving. David would have liked to ask the guards for their input but nothing had been able to wake them. It was likely some artefact Osseus took in here with in; perhaps he had been planning villany for some time? Was the elusive archer some associate of his? Why then did the young Phillips go on the run? David came to the only possible conclusion, the house wasn¡¯t safe and Howard still feared for his life. The lieutenant chided one of his officers who had picked up a dried fish from a barrel of the same and had started teasing another officer who was scared of them. David made him put it back. No one noticed the eye peering up from the barrel for the brief moment it was visible before The fish covered it once more. ? Lying on the ground and pretending to be dead was, of all things, boring. When I had come up with the plan I had been excited to stab myself in the chest; Howard had asked if I couldn¡¯t also hide in one of the barrels. I told him that there wasn''t enough room and that if both of us disappeared they might be too suspicious. That was a load of crap, I was just curious to see what would happen if I stabbed myself in my zombie heart. I had discovered I could be rendered unconscious from a strike to the head, could I be knocked from this body with a strike to the heart? It¡¯s something I¡¯d rather discover on my own terms than that of an enemy. Howard asked if I had a spell which would fake the appearance of death, something using death mana? I simply smiled at him before stabbing Hal¡¯s old knife through my heart. I took pleasure in the shocked look on Howard¡¯s face but once he saw that nothing had happened, he relaxed; slapping me on the shoulders for scaring him. I was a mite disappointed, the only result of my injury was a trickle of black blood - with no pumping heart to spray it everywhere. I supposed that this confirmed what is common knowledge, a zombie¡¯s weak spot is their brain. When Howard''s father entered, after we had been hiding and waiting for an hour, I could sense Howard¡¯s uneasiness at his fathers reaction. Even though I couldn¡¯t see Howard I could feel he wanted to jump up and tell him everything was fine. He knew, however, that sticking to the plan was for the best. The detective narrated his thoughts aloud and when he came to the fact that Howard would have had a key I thought I saw steam rising from the fish barrel, out of the corner of my glassy eyes. He was likely embarrassed as he had forgotten that fact when we devised the plan; it didn¡¯t matter; it could be to our advantage that our foe thought me dead. I was taken to the house¡¯s hospital wing; another job for the town¡¯s mortician. Thankfully the deceased lord was more of a priority, so I was left alone in the ward. I could only hope that Howard would get a chance to sneak out; then again they could lock him in there after their work, and he could just open the door - he had a key. I felt a little safer in the knowledge that Pugna was watching over him, her vow not to fight might be an issue however. I lay, unmoving on the bed for several hours, not willing to take any undue risk. Naturally, when the light through the windows was waning and I thought it time to get up, the door to the hospital opened. It was only a small army of maids, they scrubbed and cleaned everything in a matter of seconds, shut the curtains, then moved onto the next room. I had had a cloth sheet draped over my face so I had to assume much of what they were doing. When they left I was finally able to once more rise from the dead. I scrounged from a cupboard some spare linens, bundled them up, and gave them the rough shape of a body - to stop anyone from noticing my absence. I activated my Life Sense by blurring my eyes and I could see the swarm of staff as they ravaged one room then the next, leaving them in impeccable condition. Congratulations: There were also guards roaming the halls, which came as no surprise; there had been quite a bit of excitement at the Phillips house today. I considered how to heal the hole in my chest, the last two times I had healed something by using the lifeforce of a living being and the System hadn¡¯t given me a spell for it. I had been keeping notes on what exactly the System would and wouldn¡¯t do and in the back of my mind a theory was slowly forming. It was still a bud however and I had other concerns. Being in the hospital wing of a wealthy family I was able to find an elixir brimming with life mana, with hints of earth. No doubt made from some very valuable herb. I sliced the lock with Wind Blade and felt my taxed mana system protest. My misfortune was compounded by the fact one of the guards had heard something. Still having my Life Sense active, I was able to see the golden outline of his figure as it stalked toward the door, with its sabre drawn - since the skill had gone past Lv.10 I was able to see things clearer than before and could use a weaker version of my larger life forms sight, whilst seeing normally. I wondered briefly if that advancement had been made because of how I was using the skill, if I had used it more to examine microscopic organisms would it have developed differently? ? The wary guard opened the door to the hospital room and looked about. The room was dark but he carried a lantern. He swept it over the beds seeing the corpse of the boy, still under the blankets. A breeze ruffled his hair and he saw what must have caused the sound. The maids had left the window open so he strode to it and shut it with a thump. He thought he heard a muffled scream right after he slammed the window but dismissed it. Must have been the wind, he thought; sheathing his sabre. ? Vaulting the window and catching the sill before I fell three stories was only just within the Strength of this Zombie body. I saw the guard walk into the room, see the open window and dismiss the sound, all the while my hands - slick with my own blood - slipped ever further off the ledge. The slamming of the window was the last straw and I tumbled more than twenty feet, letting out an involuntary yelp before I clamped my mouth shut. If this body was in any state to do so, I might have tried to slow my fall with Wind Breath. Sadly, it was not. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it; my fall was arrested by the loving embrace of a rose bush. I was skewered like a porcupine by thorns, but my bones were not broken and neither was the vial of elixir I had swiped. Phillip¡¯s guards patrolled the house but I had a few minutes before they would make it to this side. I scrambled out from the flowers, there was no way I could hide the squashed and broken batch of shrubbery so I had to move quickly. The strong life mana in the elixir would only harm my body but using the third law of magic, opposites attract, I would be able to make a powerful undead healing spell. Whispering arcane words to focus the first layer, moving my sore hands to make the second, and dancing the correct steps for the third I completed my spell. The Spikes which stuck out of me wiggled their way free, dropping to the soil. The hole in my chest sealed itself up leaving not even a scar. I looked down at my ruined clothes, which had been new only this morning, and sighed. Congratulations: I padded around the house, sticking to the soft soil of the flower bed and avoiding the crunchy gravel of the path which meandered its way around the garden. I had to wait several times at corners until the patrols continued ahead but before long I made it back to the statue of the wise man. I looked about the area for Howard but seeing no one, I proceeded to open the secret passage. When the yawning hole into darkness opened I was finally able to see Howard, holding a dying candle and sitting on the floor waiting. He started at the opening but relaxed when he saw it were I. Just then a cry came from the other side of the house where I had squished the roses. Howard ushered me quickly into the tunnel right before it closed of its own accord. ¡°What took you so long?¡± he hissed, obviously pissed. ¡°There was a nurse sitting in the infirmary all day.¡± I replied, not rising to his level of anger. This seemed to calm him slightly - though not completely. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting here for hours and we might not have much time to save my father. ¡°How did you get away so quickly?¡± I asked. Choosing not to embarrass him with the matter of the safe room key. I was surprised he got here so quickly as last I had seen he was in an armoured room surrounded by inspectors. ¡°Apparently the servants have standing orders to replace the supplies in all of the safe rooms when any of them is used. An unlucky footman was tasked with carrying my barrel to the pantry. The kitchen is on the ground floor and just next to this statue, so, when the staff stopped for their lunch, I snuck out and was here in a matter of moments.¡± he explained, matter-of-factly. He shrugged off his antsiness as we started on our mission. Making our way through the passage didn''t take much time. The lack of dust or spiderwebs now made more sense. We entered the empty room once more. Just before his candle spluttered out Howard was forced to light another which was sitting in the room. I saw with Life Sense that, as the alarm had been raised outside, most of the guards were now searching the exterior; an unintentional boon. The smashed window had been boarded and the body of Howard¡¯s uncle had been moved. I was grateful for the latter as I remember the effect it had on him the last time we were here. Technically the master chambers now belonged to Howard''s father but given the family was still in mourning, not to mention the state the rooms were in, he remained in his old chambers, just next door. Using Life Sense I was able to see the older man pacing back and forth in his rooms. Despite the thinning of the guards; two remained, stationed outside the lord¡¯s door. Howard had wanted to tell his father everything but given we were likely dealing with a mind mage I didn¡¯t think that was wise. He might sneak into the rooms, read the lord''s mind, and decide to bounce before we could catch him. We did however agree to act immediately if it looked like his father was about to eat or drink anything - we had never confirmed but it seemed likely his uncle was poisoned to death. I didn¡¯t believe that it would happen this time however, from what I had gathered each of them had died from a different cause. So I waited with my eyes trained on his father, able to make out his every fretful step since Life Sense had levelled up. Howard kept his attention on the painting which marked the secret passage and both of us made sure we weren¡¯t visible if anyone were to enter from either entrance. I thought it likely the killer would use this means of ingress, given the cleanliness of the secret passage I speculated he had used it often. Perhaps he had learned of it by reading the mind of one of the previous house heads? The number of guards which swarmed about would also likely convince him to use this entrance. We waited¡­ and waited. Nothing happened for hours. Eventually the excitement I had wore off and they gave up the search, everyone returning to their posts. Out of boredom, Howard and I had started playing a word game in whispered voices from across the room. I had just responded to ratechin with narcolepsy when a creak stopped me mid word. It was incredibly faint and may have been a guard shifting his weight slightly; still, both of us fell silent and strained our ears. Something like this had happened three times already tonight and had turned out to be nothing. It felt different this time however, Howard must have felt it too as after 10 minutes both of us still remained silent. Howard put out his candle. The painting slowly began to swing on silent hinges. Neither of us moved a muscle, waiting for the perfect moment. Whomever they were, they were cautious, for although the door was well oiled they maintained a slow and steady pace. A dark figure slipped in and looked about, a thief''s lamp in hand. It only illuminated a thin sliver, with faint light from an inclosed candle. Once they were firmly within the room, both Howard and I acted in unison. He slammed the painting shut and stood in front of it. I knocked over a bookshelf and wedged it against the door to prevent the guards from entering. If he controlled their minds this could get messy. With a flourish of the Flame spell I then lit all the candles in the room at once, from the chandelier to the candlesticks on the walls. We were finally able to see the man who tormented this family for so many years. Congratulations: When his face was revealed I don¡¯t think either of us was surprised, he had the look of a villain. He squinted through the sudden light. The armed men and women guarding the Lord had heard the commotion and were already thumping on the door. To no avail, the book case was lodged good against a floor board, they wouldn¡¯t be getting in anytime soon. I took a moment to truly examine the man. His hair was black, the edges tainted with grey. It was slicked back with some form of oil. His face had freckles but they were faded. Long ago he was exposed to the sun on a daily basis but his pale complexion said that hadn¡¯t been the case for some years. Someone who rose in rank, someone clever? I thought. Perhaps I might be able to end this peacefully? ¡°Give it up. You¡¯re caught, if you surrender now you will be spared.¡± I lied. Hearing this the noises on the other side of the door rose and the banging increased as more joined the attempt to enter. Howard thumped a war hammer, the length of his arm, against his hand menacingly - a twisted grin blemishing his features. I had no idea when or where he had gotten his hands on the weapon. The man¡¯s eyes blazed for a second with anger but he quickly tamped it down. He stepped toward me slowly, his arms raised. ¡°You¡¯ve got me, I¡¯ll come quietly.¡± He said in as soothing a voice as he could manage. Which was far from comforting, his voice was so rough as to sound half lost. I saw then that there was a nasty scar on his neck. We waited, tense, as he approached. When he was only a few feet away I saw a twitch in his shoulders. I had expected a mental spell which I was ready and prepared to counter. Sand came out from his sleeve and straight into my eyes. I didn¡¯t need my eyes to see but my reaction was reflexive and exactly what this curser expected. He darted forward, narrowly missing Howard¡¯s strike. Howard¡¯s hammer cracked against the floorboards and the efforts at the door doubled once more. With each striked the door would bend in slightly, giving them a glimpse into the room every few seconds, before it snapped back. The attacker seized me from behind and held something cold at my throat. I felt his head behind me, turning left and right; frantically looking for a way out. ¡°One step closer!¡± he threatened, causing Howard to back up slowly. ¡°You know that spell I used earlier?¡± I asked Howard, pointing towards my heart. ¡°Stop talking.¡± My foe said harshly. Yanking me back and nicking my neck. It didn¡¯t matter as Howard had understood me. He kept walking closer. ¡°Stay back I said!¡± he croaked, growing more frantic. Howard didn¡¯t falter, keeping his hammer in a guard position as he approached steadily. The man backed up in time with Howard until we were against the wall. I hadn¡¯t tried to break free as I wasn¡¯t sure I could survive a complete decapitation; but if he tried to slice my neck I could just play dead. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you?¡± he nearly screamed as Howard didn¡¯t cease his advance. When he was within striking range he mumbled ¡°Screw it,¡± before dropping the knife and slapping a palm to my forehead. He almost caught me unawares again but I had been waiting for this moment. As he tried to activate a mind controlling spell I was half tempted to let him, to see what might happen with my Possession skill. In a split second I rejected the fun little test and pushed mental mana at the spell which had been forming around his hand. Using the second law of magic, like repulses like, I was able to push back his spell shape, stopping it from entering my body. He had trained his mana pathways more extensively than this body¡¯s former own, and, given time, he would go through my block. He wasn¡¯t given time however, as Howard hadn¡¯t been wasting it. As we contested wills the man¡¯s eyes widened; not expecting to see what he must have assumed to be another mental mage. He was too distracted to fully dodge Howards blow. He did regain his senses just in time to move his head but that meant the spike of the hammer planted itself in the meat of his shoulder. His concentration broke and the battle of wills came to an abrupt end with his hand left smoking. He screamed and the noise was accompanied by the sound of chopping. The dozen or so guards outside the door had given up on smashing it down and had started using axes to cut their way in. The door was solid and thick however and only a small hole had been made so far. I glanced through and saw Howard¡¯s father, we locked eyes and I couldn¡¯t decipher the expression his face pulled. My attention was brought back to the fight when the injured man sprung away. He remained in a crouched guard, his demeanour like a cornered feral; all sneering and barking. Blood dripped from his wound and onto the rug. ¡°Your neck.¡± Howard commented, without much concern. Never once taking his attention from the man whose death I saw in his eyes. We stood side by side, hemming him in. Howard let fall a chop aimed to scare the man back. It didn¡¯t work, the enemy shot into his guard, taking the blow to his back and grimacing. He got what he wanted however, landing his left palm on Howard¡¯s head - the right still charred. Before I could stop him the spell took effect. I had to divert the Flame spell I was using as he moved too close to my friend. The hole in the door had grown to the size of a hand. Our foe, who I suspected to be Porcus Villam¡¯s son, laughed like a mad man. Howard withdrew his hammer from the man¡¯s back and turned to stand beside him. Looking at me with vacant eyes. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you take him hostage, you¡¯ll never get away.¡± I said, indicating the furious mob clawing their way in. ¡°Hostage?¡± the man asked in a wheezing cackle. He pointed at me and Howard began to advance. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Howard was between me and my foe. I tried Lesser Sleep but the mind control spell superseded it and nothing happened. I backed away from one mechanical strike, thinking to launch a spell at Villam but he had used the opportunity to slash at me with his knife and cut me across the chest. I hissed as I thought Fuck it. There was a way to force any mental mana out of his system, I had used a slower version before, now I just needed to use much more mana - and it would hurt¡­ a lot. Taking Howard¡¯s next attack, the same as the black haired man had, it was my turn to lay my left palm on his forehead. ¡°No!¡± The mad man screamed as I flooded the boy with mental mana straight from my soul. My left arm caught fire, the mana paths literally burning up. Howard convulsed violently while still somehow standing. I had nearly cleared his entire nervous system when that cursed man acted. He shot a mental stunning spell right at where the two sources of mental mana clashed, in the cluster of nerves at the stomach. The old spell shape and the new, fueled by my raw mana, started to mingle; trying to change. I had made more than enough spells to know exactly what was about to happen. ¡°Shit!¡± I yelled, my hand welded to Howards skull. The resulting explosion sent everyone in the room flying. When I scrambled to my feet, blinking away stars, I saw Villam was doing the same on the other side of the room. Howard on the other hand was in far worse shape. His guts had been exploded, entrails hanging from the chandelier. I saw his soul begin to float away and, acting without thinking, I sprinted over. Leaping up I grabbed the soul from midair with my good hand using Soul Manipulation and slammed it back into his disembowelled body. Congratulations: What?! I thought. His father had grabbed an axe and with frantic desperation improved upon the pace of three other men. When Howard sat up, taking an involuntary breath, his father screamed and clawed himself through the door. The mental mage had taken the opportunity to jump out of the window. It was three stories to the ground but he had evidently thought it a better chance of survival. I took a moment to ensure Howard was well, apart from being undead. Thanks to my assistance his mind had remained intact though he was now a Wight. Seeing his father running towards us with so much grief in his heart that it was hard to look upon his face, I chose the easier path and followed Villam out the window. From his father¡¯s perspective; I raised my hand to his son, my arm caught fire, his son had exploded - thinking about that I looked at my arm as I fell, it was a grotesque lump of flesh mostly in one piece - I had then jumped in the air and slammed a closed fist into his son¡¯s remains and he had sat up. I hoped he would be okay. If I just catch this man I could still get this to work, I thought, seconds before hitting the ground arse first. There was a squelch when I landed and all my vertebrae fractured. I looked down, ¡°Shit!¡± I cursed aloud. Standing up with great effort I wiped what was left of Villam¡¯s brain matter from my rear. Panicked, and not knowing what to do for the first time in a long time, I started to run - or tried to. My back wobbled side to side like jelly. Using Necrotic Healing I was able to achieve a passable hobbling sprint through the gardens and out into the forest before anyone could find me. The only part of me I couldn¡¯t heal was my left arm as the mana pathways had been completely destroyed. With a moonless night as my only cover I left Dommoc with as much speed as I could manage. Status 6.0
Status 6.0
Name: Osseus ?
Titles: Archmagus(ish), Savant II, Soul Devouer, [LF-RF]: ¨‹
Archmagus(ish): Unique With the knowledge and experience one hundred times that of a common mage, and the power to match, one is granted the Title of Archmagus. Lacking experience in this world''s magic and with power still to be tested one (and only one) is granted the title Archmagus(ish). This Title grants: | 20 10 Intelligence | 20 10 Willpower | 20 10 Wisdom |
Spell Slinger: Common Able to use the most basic of proficiency, a Spell Slinger may be a novice mage or spell sword. This Title grants: | 2 Intelligence | 1 Willpower |
Savant I : Uncommon Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to a promising start. This Title grants: | +10% experience gain in Lich Class |
Savant II : Rare Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to an exceptional start. This Title grants: | +15% experience gain in Lich Class |
Detective: Rare Able to solve mysteries and bring ne''er-do-wells to justice. This title was awarded for completing the Quest: Murder at the vicarage. This title grants: | +10 perception I Ability to work on any murder case in the kingdom |
Soul Devourer: Epic Consuming the stuff of souls comes with both rewards and punishments | +20 inteligence I People who do not know you act negatively towards you |
Lord of Far-Reach Fort: Knight [locked] This is a lord title and grants the owner access to the settlement system. If owned this title is automatically selected but takes no title slots. This title grants: | access to the settlement system at Knight rank |
You currently have 3 Title slot(s) available
Race: Skeleton: ¨‹
Human Humans are one of the most prolific breeders in all the land. They come in a wide variety of colours and creeds and are able to take nearly any class and profession but have no innate talents for any. They are a short lived species of average height, not able to live more than a century without magical aid. Humans gain: | +10% Xp |
Zombie Zombies are the most common form of undead and can be made from most of the living races. They are known for their lacking intelligence and undying strength and tenacity. Zombies gain. | +10 Strength | -10 Intelligence | -5 Agility I Ravenous (N/A due to Possesion skill) |
Skeleton Skeletons are an advanced form of undead, usually evolved from zombies. They typically have slightly more intelligence and agility and are harder to kill. Skeletons gain: | + 3 agility | -1 strength | Life Sense | Bone Claws | Bone Articulation |
Changing Race is incredibly uncommon and only usually happens as the result of a drastic physical change or magical mishap.
Class: Lich ¨‹
Lich: Rare Lv.25 (Capped untill subclass is chosen) The Lich class has three requirements: 1. A Lich must have had a magic based class in life. 2. A Lich must be Undead. 3. A Lich¡¯s soul must have been detached from their body and attached to an item (this item can be the aforementioned body but it can also be changed). if the Lich class is available it is taken automatically. If all class slots are full it will replace your lowest Lv. class. Lich¡¯s use magic as their main form of attack, focusing on the death, poison, or elemental schools.
Subclass locked until body is regained.
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ¨‹
No professions are currently available. Demonstrate aptitude in a given field to unlock a profession or apprentice under a Master. Three Profession slots are open.
Skills: SP - 3 ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.11 The undead have a natural hatred for all life, without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher level Undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Levelling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense.
Bone Claws: Lv.7 Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie making their attacks weaker but their bodies are far faster making slashing and piercing weapons an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Levelling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws.
Bone Articulation: Lv.12 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a skeleton''s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Levelling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Identify: Lv.4 Users can Identify the level, up to ten levels above themselves. At higher levels one can learn the target''s highest levelled class, profession, title, even approximate health and stamina.
Conceal: Lv.4 Hide from others Identify type skills and spells. Doesn''t work if the other party''s skill is considerably higher level.
Detection: Lv.1 When concentrating, users can notice things others might miss. You also gain an innate sense when things don''t quite add up. At higher levels the missing pieces are easier to spot and may even glow to your vision.
Astral Projection: Lv.2 Detach your soul from your body at will. This skill can be used to traverse the astral, hence its names. Be warned - creatures in the astral are often dangerous and attack the soul directly, they are also usually uncomprehendable to mortals. If your soul is destroyed you cannot be reincarnated.
Possession: Lv.5 With the power of one¡¯s soul alone you can take over a vacated body. Once higher skill levels are reached one can temporarily possess the living.
Passive skills:
Magically reinforced bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptism in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands a chance of damaging them. Be warned this does not increase the strength of your bones'' connections.
Water Resistance: Lv.3 Chosen as the Lv.10 Lich class ability. This ability grants a resistance to water based attacks. Additionally movement is less impeded by water/rain. Level is increased by resisting water.
Soul Manipulation: Lv.10 Chosen as the Lv.20 Lich class ability. This ability grants the user the means to see souls and manipulate them in a rudimentary fashion at higher levels a practitioner of soul manipulation might rip the soul out of one adversary, bend it to their will, then send it after another. This skill increases with use. Be warned, manipulating souls can have irreversible side effects. It is advised not to use this on yourself or friends until it reaches Lv.25.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase skill levels.
Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.10 (max) Folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point one can create a projectile of necrotising energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Bone Armour: Intermediate Lv.20 (max) Lv.15 Class Spell. This Spell summons bones from the netherworld to serve as armour. The higher one''s level the thicker or stronger the armour is, depending on caster.
Death''s Touch: Advanced Lv.5 Lv.25 Class Spell. This Spell kills anything that does not resist with but a touch. Increasing the level decreases the mana consumption and increases the level of target that the spell works on.
Learned Spells:
Wind Breath: Basic Lv.5 Melding one''s mana with the air round them allows one to create small gusts of wind. Suitable for moving small objects. The strength and accuracy of the spell is increased with each level.
Sunscreen: Basic Lv.4 By constraining darkness manna into a ball and letting it seep out around one, one can block the sun¡¯s effects temporarily. The higher the level of this spell the less mana required, the longer the effect, and the stronger the effect.
Minor Finesse: Basic Lv.4 This spell temporarily boosts coordination and alacrity of movement by moving small amounts of mana around one¡¯s nervous system.
Preserve Meat: Basic Lv.3 By enveloping meat in a small amount of time mana one can slower or even prevent time¡¯s effects; at least for a short time.
Flame: Basic Lv.4 By igniting one¡¯s mana after focusing it to a point they can create a stream of fire. This is the basic spell all fire mages should learn, although it is the weakest it is the most versatile.
Curse Detector: Basic Lv.5 A simple spell made with simple components. Curses are common through every land so it can be advantageous to see them coming.
Lesser Sleep: Basic Lv.1 I''m feeling tired, I think I might take a nap.
Wind Blade: Intermediate Lv.4 Sharpening the air with one''s mana onc can create a blade from nothing but wind. Properly used this can even cut through steel.
Rock Throw: Intermediate Lv.1 Pulling from the earth one can shape a projectile from rock. This is a simple attack spell for earth mages and is very versatile.
Magma Lob: Intermediate Lv.2 A super heated version of Rock Throw this spell does what it says on the tin, perfect for when things are heating up.
Necrotic Healing: Intermediate Lv.1 Normal healing spells work with the living body to recover as best possible, substituting what is not fixable with life mana to create new parts. Even the most simple of necrotic healing spells have to rely more on the latter as the former is impossible for the undead body to achieve, making death mana based healing more mana intensive and more complex.
Shocking Aura: Advanced Lv.3 Pulsing one''s mana in and out of their skin rapidly creates an electrical aura. The power and radius of the aura are increased with level.
Necrotising Aura: Advanced Lv.4 Withers everything in an area about the caster. This spell is more mana intensive than Necrotising Bolt but covers a larger area, perfect if one finds oneself trapped in the belly of a beast.
Illusionary Skin: Expert Lv.9 Pulsing one''s mana gently and continuously around one''s skin (or bones) creates an illusionary skin atop the original. The complexity of this spell allows for one to change: skin colour, hair pigmentation, eye colour, and scars/tattoos so long as they are only skin deep. This is a channelling type spell and requires a constant flow of mana to function.
Earth Golem: Expert Lv.1 Shape the earth to your will, then give it one of its own. This spell has two parts, first one can shape the earth into whatever form they prefer, then one can breathe life into their creation. Higher levels of this spell lower the mana cost and increase the amount of mass which can be animated.
Wind Domain: Master Lv.1 A master ranked spell that puts all the wind within one''s domain under one''s command. This spell is tricky to use because the air in the area of effect becomes part of the caster for the duration of the spell. However when mastered one becomes effectively the only wind mage within their domain.
Storm Cloak: Unique Become the storm.
Attributes: AP - 0 ¨‹
Strength: 21 (+10) Strength determines how hard one hits, and how much force one can exert and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 3 (-5) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Charisma and its effects are inverted among the undead.)
Perception: 11 Perception affects reaction speeds and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 (+1) Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ (-10) Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 30 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
Chapter 13: The Daughters of Nix I Chapter 13: The Daughters of Nix I The night was dark, too dark even for the owls that cooed far off in the forest - unable to see their prey. Mist hovered about the trees, remaining just below the canopy. With only Life Sense to guide me, all I saw were the silhouette of trees and boulders, marked by the microscopic life which flourished on their surface. Ever since I left the Phillips ¡°cursed¡± house, making perhaps the greatest blunder of my entire existence, I had been running. My gait resembled the shamble of any other zombie, my injuries so severe. My mind still raced even though it had been some thirty minutes since I began my flight, yet I pushed on doggedly; despite the fact I had not caught sight nor sound of a pursuer. If my mind hadn¡¯t been running at the speed my legs could not, perhaps I would have noticed the strangeness of my surroundings. Although I only saw the outlines of obstacles, it would have been enough; if only I weren''t still gripped by frantic befrazzlement. The tall golden objects that grew far wider at their tops and I assumed to be trees, were slowly becoming evermore twisted. They began to give off a sinister fragrance. Branches rising and falling from the earth like dolphins from the ocean. The clear, deciduous forest morphed into the silhouette of a monotone jungle. I didn¡¯t notice. Brambles sent forth their probing tendrils, scraping away what remained of my doublet and leaving my bone-thin chest bare. I didn¡¯t notice. The wet squish of damp leaves changed, each step now punctuated by the crunch of dry needles. The spines working their way into my leather shoes. I didn¡¯t notice. The call of the owl was cut off abruptly, leaving in its place an oppressive silence. I couldn¡¯t notice. Why? I had retreated to the one place all can call their own, my mind. I wanted desperately to figure out the mess I had made for myself but I knew it was already too late. My body knew long before my psyche had meandered its way along the path my vessel had already sprinted down. Howard, that was who weighed most heavily upon my conscience. He was one who I might have dared to have counted among my list of friends, one of few. I had left him to the mercy of his family, but who else could be trusted to be merciful? A burden I felt nearly as heavily was the fact I left without solving the ¡°Curse¡±. In a way, I did, or I believed that I did, but I had never gained all the facts. I thought the man we had fought was the cause of the families deaths, given he was sneaking in through a hidden tunnel - that was a safe assumption. I thought he was a mind mage based on the core of the tiny curse that was haunting the Phillips. On that account I was proven correct. The rest was speculation however; I thought he was likely the son of the late Porcus Villam, because he was the last of my suspects and someone was hiding out in his old farm. I thought he may have been of a family that had fallen from nobility, losing the support of the Phillips being the final straw. I had made this guess when Howard had mentioned the only mind mages he had heard of were part of a noble family that had once helped conquer the town of Dommoc but had since fallen. I had no proof, the real answer could have been something in between. The lack of knowledge ate me up inside. There was also the question of who that mysterious ¡°D¡± was in the System message. It led to a thousand other questions that I had been trying not to think about as they would occupy all my thoughts: what was the system? could it be controlled? did the gods of a world have any sway? All these thoughts ran about my head, ripping away parts of me in layers of embarrassment, anger, and self loathing. I didn¡¯t even notice something was amiss. I ducked under a vine that hung from a tree, in an area where vines were not supposed to grow. I dodged a mosquito the size of my palm. I stumbled through a thicket. Finally I came to a stop in a clearing, separated into four parts. In the pale moonlight my zombie eyes could make out more details. Wait, wasn¡¯t the night moonless when I left, it should be two weeks until the next full moon. A small voice in the back of my mind tried to say but it was squashed. I stopped in wonder at the sight before me. The first quarter, the one I entered into, was blanketed with yellow buttercups which shimmered as a mild wind blew through. The quarter opposite was blanketed in snow, clouds above letting flakes fall only on that patch. From beneath the snow delicate snowdrops poked their heads up tentatively. How is the moonlight coming through those clouds? That voice again asked but was again ignored. The quarter to my right was filled with vibrant flowers of all types; daisies, pansies, poppies and marigolds. Fat buzzing insects of yellow and black bobbed between them lazily. Sunlight reflecting off their black eyes. Sunlight, what the hell? The final quarter was drowned completely in constant, heavy rain and I couldn''t make out a thing. None of this, however wondrous, had ceased my flight. There was one thing and one thing alone that had my attention. A throne waited at the centre of the four quarters, just begging for me to sit on it. It may have been made of simple carved wood and resemble a high back chair but it had the aura of a throne. The environment seemed to agree as none of the turbulent weather came close to touching it. I took a step closer without realising. This isn¡¯t right! My inner voice screamed but was drowned out by the sweet smell of butter cups. All it managed to achieve was a brief turn of my head. I glimpsed behind me to see nothing, only empty space. The site didn¡¯t unnerve me; it was supposed to be like that - all that really mattered was the Thone. I took another step forward. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Suddenly a ripple went through the yellow flowers which coated the earth. From beneath each head, about the size of a coin, came one of those giant mosquitoes. How is that even possible, they couldn¡¯t fit under there. It made perfect sense, of course the Throne would test me, I needed to prove myself to it. Drawing mana through my already exhausted pathways I cast Flame in an arc about me, turning the insects to ash. Stop! A part of me screamed as it felt the microscopic tears throughout my mana network. If I keep this up all of me will be without magic, not just my left arm. I couldn¡¯t stop, I needed to get to my Throne; each shuffling step more hurried than the last. The next to attack were the bees, their eyes changed from a passive black to an angry red as they swarmed across the line from day to night. I tried again to burn my foe but their furry exteriors resisted the flames. My network¡¯s integrity has deteriorated to 30%! my inner voice panicked, I couldn¡¯t hear it as the blood thumped in my ears, My heart doesn¡¯t beat. What is this? These foul creatures needed to die, they separated me from my precious seat. One of them reached me and stuck a stinger the size of my finger through my thigh. I growled in anger and pain. I can¡¯t feel pain! I started firing Wind Blades indiscriminately into the pack. This time it had the desired effect and bits of fuzzy flesh and wings when flying everywhere. The yellow carpet was stained by a greenish ichor. I grinned in manic glee even as three more holes were torn in my body, the area¡¯s swelling as the venom was injected. 20%! I couldn¡¯t stop myself, my need for violence warred with my need to rule over all; to rule from my Throne. Eventually when all the insects were dead the thought of the Throne won out and I continued my merry skip towards it. Saliva bubbling from the corner of my mouth. Archmagi don¡¯t skip! For some reason I stopped skipping. It didn¡¯t matter, nothing could hold back my excitement as I continued towards the centre of the clearing with regular steps. One of the snowdrops, half buried in the snow, twitched. Duck! I ducked without knowing why but it was a good job I did. The flower launched itself from the white blanket and towards my head. It passed above as I was crouched and I saw a white furry form trailing behind the plant. It landed and snarled. This snow fox was trying to stop me from taking my rightful place. It needed to die. The flower growing out of the creature¡¯s head swayed from side to side as it bared its teeth. Withdrawing my fibula from the spatial pouch with my one good hand, the other hanging limply by my side, I started firing off tiny bead-like Necrotising Bolts with abandon. The beast was agile however and pranced aside, dodging each attack and coming in closer. It whizzed past and bit off a finger from my left hand. I roared in fury and kicked at the thing, I clipped its shoulder and it was sent spinning. The next attack hit but I didn¡¯t have enough concentration to condense Necrotising Bolt as I had been doing. The snow fox was struck by a wider, bubble-like, version of the spell. Its hair greyed, not that you could tell, its teeth yellowed and the flower growing from its head wilted before the beast finally succumbed to old age, its flesh sloughing off in patches of black ooze. I smiled in victory. What the hell is wrong with me?! The smirk was wiped from my lips as from behind me there came a chorus of growling. I turned around slowly to see more than a dozen snowdrops shivering in the snowy quarter. I was set upon by a pack of angry foxes trying to tear me limb from limb. Using Wind Breath to batter the small creatures I was able to keep most of them off me. 10%, this body will be useless soon! One of the more sneaky ones had managed to flank me and bit hard on my behind, nothing I could do would remove the fiery furball. Blinded by rage I yanked at the animal with Soul Manipulation, given its relative weakness I was able to tear its soul clean from its body at the cost of some minor damage to my own. Even in death its spirit tried to bite and scratch but it was completely in my power. Its body fell to the ground dead but its soul remained in my hand. Looking at its siblings, being battered about by my wind, I locked eyes with the largest of them. We stared at each other as, with great glee, I took the soul, raised it above my mouth, and dropped it - swallowing it whole. What?! Why did I do that? I had been planning to run rigorous tests with souls before I tried anything so reckless. Anything could happen, it could erode my own soul, I could become cursed, my mana paths could start to repair? What was happening, the network has increased to 20% integrity and this body¡¯s mana capacity has increased. Why is this; because mana and soul stuff are so closely linked? Is this how gods get their power?... The back of my mind, the ego, kept setting up and knocking down one hypothesis after another while the id, who was in charge, revelled in the looks of fear on the fluffy creature¡¯s faces. With two simultaneous Wind Breath¡¯s I knocked them all into a pile and caught them with one after another, wide area Necrotising Bolts. I limped over to the slowly melting foxes and took from each of them their soul. They were in such a miserable condition that ripping them from their mortal shells was easy and I suffered no damage to my own soul. ¡­50%... my inner self commented before returning to its theories. I continued my zombie shuffle towards the Throne. When I had almost reached it and I could hear the joyous cheers of my people, something came out of nowhere and sent me flying backwards. For some reason I didn''t have the same instinct to dodge that I had before. I looked up from where I lay on the blood slicked butter cups to see a tentacle as thick around as my head slither back into the impregnable rain. When it had fully retreated, there remained no sign of its presence. Hot with anger, I used Flame to create a bubble of fire around myself as I stepped, once more, towards the throne. When I came to the same point, I looked over and sure enough a tentacle whipped out of the water. It struck my shield and withdrew, still steaming. A high pitched shriek could be heard from the final quarter and I laughed in victory. Congratulations: Fascinating, I wonder why I unlocked that¡­ my tiny voice asked before prattling on with more and more questions. Injured and dripping black blood I finally laid a hand upon the Throne. The energy that had until this point fueled me left in a rush and I was left mentally and, somehow, physically exhausted. Needing a rest I sat heavily in the chair. The two halves of my mind slid back together and I was forced to come to terms with what I had done. Looking out, I saw the torn apart remains that stained this once wondrous view. Then all I could see was purple. I fell unconscious for the second time as an undead. ¡°He¡¯ll do nicely, don¡¯t you think? Sister,¡± one voice spoke in the purple, orange sparks appearing at her words. ¡°He will prove fun.¡± her sister confirmed in a tone that would have even made their mother shiver. Chapter 14: The Daughters of Nix II Chapter 14: The Daughters of Nix II Motes of orange sparkle in the purple sea. I floated about, half conscious, when something began to form in the ocean of chaos. At first there was a spark of orange, brighter than the rest, on the horizon but it soon began to change. A speck of light brown rock drew closer by the second. In less than a minute I was bobbing up and down in front of an Island, only barely large enough to house the giant stone structure which sprouted from the craggy rock. A coliseum? My bleary mind wondered as it gathered its parts and started knitting them back together. I fell onto the beach of this island as the sea of purple I had found myself in evaporated, the last drops of that other dimension clung to me like molasses but were eventually pulled away; up, into nothingness. The Island was now real, the beach genuine, and the sound of waves gently lapped behind me; a proper sun beat down overhead. I looked up as the last of my mind came together and saw that there wasn¡¯t a cloud in the sky. I looked up the steps ahead of me, the entrance to the coliseum both inviting and threatening. Suddenly my weight returned and I ceased to float; having not even noticed it was missing, I fell to my knees. White sand puffed up at the impact. I coughed out what little had made it into my lungs, the act was instinctive though superfluous. When my mind finally settled I was able to take stock of my situation. All that remained of my once splendid attire were the shoes, the rest were ruined. My doublet was torn to pieces, leaving my top half bare. My hose was more hole than whole, only just covering my modesty, what remained was stained with blood and viscera. Patting myself down I was able to find one more salvageable item. The belt to which my spatial pouch was attached. The leather was supple and black in colour. The buckle was silver and resembled a skull, ivy growing out of its eye. I grimaced as I tried to stand, it wasn¡¯t only my clothes that were in a state. My body was little better. My arm looked like it had just popped out for a quick walk on the sun. Moving it was difficult as it had crusted over, thanks to the Necrotic Healing spell I used - it couldn¡¯t repair me decimated mana channels but it did begin healing the flesh. I might be able to transplant mana pathways from another with enough time and the right equipment; I had neither. The wounds which covered my body caused me to stumble back to the sandy beach. The thought of having eaten all those fluffy animal¡¯s souls made me feel sick but it had completely recovered my mana pathways and boosted this body''s capacity for magic. I would be able to use advanced spells somewhat frequently, I might even be able to use an expert spell. Still, it felt wrong - having gained strength in this manner. Humanoid experimentation I was all for but animals were innocent creatures, not burdened with higher thought. They were pure souls and to have defiled them so¡­ I straightened my glasses and my newly healed back before taking a long, deep breath and recited: ¡°Amitabha.¡± as I let my emotions go with my breath the way my master had taught me so long ago; it helped, a little. Most of the worries which plagued me the night before faded as well and I decided to take everything as it came. I walked towards the light coloured steps which were hewn from the stone. My skull patterned shoes crunched on loose sand which the wind had blown onto the stairs. I was walking slowly and carefully, checking for traps every few steps. This island seemed barren and I hadn¡¯t seen nor heard any sign of life since being transported here. That said, the means by which I came to be here made me suspicious. Had I fallen into some trial. In my old body whatever this was would be trivial. Then again I had been overcome by some enraging effect and my mind was still the same as ever so perhaps it wouldn¡¯t have been so easy. Despite my vigilance, I hadn¡¯t found anything by the time I made it up to the grand entrance of the coliseum. Not compelled by some mental manipulation I didn¡¯t head straight for the obvious path. The Island wasn''t much larger than the footprint of the main structure but if I was careful I could edge around the building along the cliff top. I chose to do so, looking both out at the ocean and in at the colosseum to see what I might find. The stone was carved into shape but bare of any decoration, or text, or anything of interest. The sea was a deep blue and there was no land or ships in sight. On the far side of the monolith I was forced to shuffle along a section no wider than my foot. Halfway along I found, plunged into the stone, a knife - the remains of a skeletal hand still hanging onto it. Evidently I wasn¡¯t the first to have travelled this way, something had pulled my predecessor away from the wall with such force that a limb remained. I looked into the bottomless depths but saw nothing. I examined the remains and the truth became clear, there were teeth marks on what was left of the arm. Deciding it probably wasn¡¯t best to linger, I worked free the rusty knife holding it as a weapon, it wouldn¡¯t be very good as the edge had long since eroded. I placed what was left of the hand in my velvet pouch; waste not want not. Since it appeared there was no other option, I went back round to the main entrance. I debated using my new warding spell but surrounding myself in flames would block my vision. It was better to go in with my senses in their best condition and hope to dodge any trap. I did however construct, within my mind, a number of mental barriers, I did not intend to lose control of myself again anytime soon. With a straight back and squared shoulders I set forth, rusty shiv at the ready. It was eerie to walk in through the wide corridors, vacant of life. I could see the way from a thousand feet clear along the stone but not a soul was present any longer. Again I found the path suspiciously lacking in bedevilment which only heightened my tension further. I made it through the tunnel and the arena stretched out before me, the gate down several steps of seated stairs. I didn¡¯t follow the obvious route, as had become my method. I liked to be meticulous so I doubled back around the tunnel, ascending the rows. The place was just as barren on its exterior as it was on its interior. I made several laps of the seats, starting at the top and working my way inwards with each spiral. Again I found nothing save the occasional blood stains in the splash zone and graffiti made in a language I didn¡¯t recognize. There were marks and chips that showed the place was old and well used but I could gather little more from outside the arena. I walked to the entrance of the fighting stage, sand covered the ground; hiding any villany. I withdrew my wand and readied a spell as I set foot on the combat zone. As soon as my sole came to a rest on the sediment the whole coliseum came to life. Iron gates clanged shut behind me, gates that hadn¡¯t existed seconds before. The crowd cheered, a crowd that materialised with no mana signature to indicate magic. The announcer encouraged them, her magically enhanced voice booming around the arena. ¡°The combatant has finally arrived, this one likes to take his time!¡± she belligered. The crowd responded with a chorus of good natured booing before the sound dissolved into the energy of the stadium. I was off balance, but I couldn¡¯t show it. Whatever being was behind this, that could conjure an entire stadium¡¯s worth of people without my detection, was someone I wanted to impress rather than disappoint. ¡°Letsss not keepsss the peoplesss waiting,¡± a second commentator added in sibilant tones, ¡°I thinksss we ssshould ssstart the first match, don¡¯t you sssister?¡± The stadium shook with the fans'' excitement. Not wanting to appear to be merely a pawn in some god¡¯s game I looked about for the ring leaders. I could make out two tall women, one with the face of a snake and the other with a deathly pale pallor. They stood high up in the stands in a private box. I raised my rusty dagger in their direction, a gesture of challenge. ¡°I think he¡¯s ready to rumble!¡± the ghostly woman declared, riling up the people to new heights. The arena thundered with the sounds of cheers, I readied myself for a fight. ? ¡°...Our first opponent shall be the Snow Adder! Native to the arctic plains of Khalcha, this magical creature has been raised by our very own beast tamer and she is raring for a fight. Let¡¯s have a round of applause for Snowball!¡± The crowd erupted at her words and an iron gate on the far side of the arena rose. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I looked about for some way out whilst maintaining a relaxed and casual air of confidence. There was a barrier around the floor, it wouldn''t be as easy as hopping up into the stands if I did try to escape. I traced the source of the ward back to the pair, lording over the crowd as they commentated - with my current level of power I wouldn¡¯t stand a chance against those two. The holy mana, for there was no doubt they were at least demigods, roiled and bubbled within the snake lady with angry orange radiance. The second lady was hiding her mana from my sight, when she noticed me looking she winked. I was slightly surprised, especially at the reaction her sister had. She unhinged her jaw and launched at the pale figure. I blinked and I missed it, but the snake lady was left hanging by her neck from the other woman''s grasp. She didn¡¯t look to have enough muscle to achieve the feat, but one could never assume with those of a divine persuasion. After a moment of dangling the snake lady calmed down and the two resumed their earlier stances as if nothing had happened. She hated her sister showing me any favour; is it because my first match is a snake? I thought as I returned my attention to the other side of the ring. Something had spent the last few minutes slithering along through the dark tunnel which led to its side of the arena. When a great white snake serpentined its way out of the opening, hissing, the crowd was set alight anew. With my wand held loosely at my side, to give the impression I was not worried, I examined the creature with some internal hesitation. From the name alone, ¡®Snow Adder¡¯, one may have expected a cylindrical reptile the length of one''s arm but the figure which slowly made its way toward the centre of the arena was nothing of the sort. To maintain my facade I likewise marched closer to the middle. The serpent was massive, truly an incredible specimen, It¡¯s head the size of a carriage, its body as long as a Waffenball Court* and it had enough ice mana to use a master level spell, I gulped reflexively as it sniffed the air around me with its tongue, waiting for the signal to begin the fight. The spectators went silent in anticipation, we stood inches from each other at the midpoint of the arena waiting for the fight to be called. I used Identify: Name: Snowball Title: Identify skill too low to determine. Race: Giant Snow Adder Class: Tundra Hunter Lv.24 Age: Identify skill too low to determine. Skills: Identify skill too low to determine. Spells: Identify skill too low to determine. Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine. ¡°Let the battle commence!¡± The pale woman declared, her voice ringing out through the stadium, her tone far too effervescent for her demeanour. Distracted by my thoughts of the godling¡¯s vocal chords I almost missed the first attack. It didn¡¯t appear to react when the proverbial whistle was blown, the thing¡¯s head still weaving slowly backwards and forwards. What I couldn¡¯t see, so close to the beast, was the tail snaking its way behind me for a sneak attack. I caught the glimpse of something white in my peripherals and engaged my plan immediately. Using what all natural creatures fear, I activated Flame Ward with the directions the System had given. The spell blazed out from my right hand¡¯s ring and enveloped me in a matter of seconds. Seeing the fire, the snake flinched away, rearing its head back. The attack to the rear of me was sent off course, the icicle which launched from the end of Snowball¡¯s tail scored a bloody line along its own body. I took the opportunity to try and rush in close but the sudden pain made the beast push through its fear. Its eyes seemed to glow with an almost white blue as the thing¡¯s drawn back head circled round for a breath attack. In the less civilised parts of my home world people thought giant magical snake adjacent beasts to be dragons and with the icy blizzards growing in the creatures gullet I could see why. I backed up, reverting my forward charge, not wanting to be anywhere close to the epicentre of that attack. My world was tinged a fiery orange as the ward lagged an inch behind my retreat. The crowd, of all races and creeds, booed at my withdrawal. When the creature''s head came back around to 12 O¡¯clock it belched out a torrent of snow and ice. Filling the arena with particulates which rolled off the semicircular defence encapsulating us. The coldest region, a cone that pushed out straight from the Snow Adder¡¯s maw. My Flame Ward spell was stopping me from freezing solid, but only barely, and I was currently standing out of line. The beast must have had some other means of detecting me, much as I had Life Sense, because as the cold ray continued blasting, obscuring us from the onlookers¡¯ sight, my foe turned it¡¯s head, desperately trying to land me in the most frigid part of the spell. I ran to the side, although the creature¡¯s head could track me easily and move faster than myself, the breath weapon slowly crawled across the stage. Several times it tried to aim ahead of my position but I was able to see it perfectly clearly and never fell for its trick. After 10 seconds the magic ran its course and the spell was over, but neither of us waited for the snowglobe to clear before making our next move. Snowball tried to fend me off with a barrage of icicles while she waited for her main weapon to recuperate. She had driven me to the opposite side of the arena and thought to fight at a longer range, I could see from the sparkle of intelligence in her eye. For the last several days I had been devising some improvements I could make to the spellshape of Minor Finesse and it was high time I tried them out. Congratulations: The magic surrounded me in an orange glow, seconds before the first icicle struck. It was as if time slowed, maybe only by 10%, but that was more than enough to slip the first attack. This version of the spell was far more effective, although the power I had added to its structure reduced its lifetime from a day to only 10 minutes - I was limited after all by the complexity of the spell, somewhere between 2nd and 3rd tier on my home world. I ducked and slipped icy spears, each step closing the distance. We could both see I was going to make it to her before the spell recharged. She coiled, ready to spring at a physical confrontation. She had made a mistake, she assumed me to be a close range combatant. I skidded to a stop just outside her range and loosed the spell I had been forming. Conducted by my bone wand the sand about me congealed into a molten ball and flung towards her. Magma Lob struck the skin of the snake and began to burn. She wriggled and rolled in the snow, trying to rub off the lava but it stuck like napalm. Now she was distracted, I had my opportunity. Flashing in again, far faster under the effects of my enhanced Minor Finesse, I was able to finally lay a hand on the struggling beast, unfortunately I had misjudged the timing of her flailing body and was flattened against the ground. Congratulations: *Waffenball is a game - similar to tennis - played on a very long, very narrow court. Approximately 140 x 0.1 feet. The aim of the game is to have the fastest serve, however the ball must land between the lines. The opponent stands at the opposite edge of the pitch and the speed is determined by how much they flinch at the approaching ball. Taras Haiduk was the best player when Osseus was interested, briefly, in the sport at age 34, Haiduk never flinched. Osseus often talked about his prowess, long after his death, but never knew the man had been blind and could never see the ball coming. Chapter 15: The Daughters of Nix III Chapter 15: The Daughters of Nix III Silence. As I clawed my way out from under the dead snake all I heard was silence. The crowd were slack jawed, frozen in stunned silence. The two ladies whose voices had been booming around the arena and whose mana had been, until this point, erratic yet energetic where stood, statuesque and in complete silence. The stillness was cracked by a high, keening wail, which accelerated into a hissing scream. Looking up I saw the snake lady, her head cocked back in rage. I felt the mana building in her throat and knew what would come. I ignored her and hoped her compatriot would stop her before anything truly bad happened - after all if they chose to kill me there would be nothing I could do. As the sounds of battle broke out at the top of the arena and the crowd seemed to burst into violence in sympathy I shifted attention to my prize. First, was the venom - stuffed with ice mana and a potent poison to boot - this was no doubt a precious find. Minor Finesse expired just as I was undergoing the delicate operation of removing the alveoli with my rusty implement, the sudden lack of movemental assistance I pierced the gland and a snowstorm burst anew from my location, momentarily drowning out the cacophony of fighting. Debris fell down from the earth shattering conflict taking place at the top of the stand, I rubbed my head where a bit of stone had struck it then returned to the job at hand. Recasting the physical enhancement spell using its weaker, yet longer lasting, spell-shape I concentrated and set to work on the second venom sac; determined not to make the same mistake. I had to focus to ignore the scream of one snake beastkin, who was thrown from the stands by her fellow competitors and more taxing on my mind, the sudden shift in the behaviour of the crowd. Were they being controlled by the two god(ish) beings? Were they a part of those two? Shit! A slip in attention caused a slip in the hand and I nicked the gland, thankfully the consequences weren¡¯t as dire as before, only bathing my arm in a constant stream of cold air. I chided myself for the lapse before finishing the procedure and putting away the organ in my spatial bag to preserve its freshness; I couldn¡¯t wait to create new spells with that. On my way out of the creature''s gullet I spied the two front fangs, they were sharp and imbued with a small amount of ice mana. The former feature would have made them perfect for removing the alveoli, or at least a damn sight better than the dull and rusty dagger I had been using. I sighed, having missed the ideal tools in my haste to retrieve the rarest ingredient. One might think the second law of magic, like repels like, would have made it very difficult to use the one ice infused body part to remove the other, however, there was an exception when it came to magically imbued parts from the same creature. The working theory, last I checked, stated there was a sympathy between the organs which came from sharing the same blood. I didn¡¯t entirely believe this explanation as I had tried making a homunculus from a variety of different parts from the same species of magical beastmen, and even though I could get the blood flowing the interactions between the same type, but slightly different, mana signatures always killed the creatures before a full moon cycle. Whatever the reason, like always repelled like, unless it was mana from the same source. This made magically imbued armour more expensive as it either had to be all done by the same enchanter, or if one is using naturally magical materials they would have to source them all from the same monster. The screaming and clawing which was still being amplified by the announcing spell seemed to raise in volume so I plugged my ears with the torn off fingers of the discarded hand I had found, before getting to work wiggling free the two front fangs of the snake - they would make perfect daggers. I wedged the bone plugs in deeper as I heard a scream from the stands above: ¡°Defiler!¡± The words cut short by a punch to the throat, which would be a tough target to miss on a snakekin. I chuckled at the familiar nickname before getting back to work. It didn¡¯t take long to remove and clean up my new weapons and I was soon searching for the next resource this carcass contained. Perhaps I may have avoided some of this deitie¡¯s ire if I had given my opponent a fair fight, but as I have said before I have a strong distaste for cruelty to animals and drawing out that fight would have done just that. Determined to respect the dead by using every part of them I looked for the section of most value remaining. The tail held a needle like spike made from a form of permafrost, the dimensions were similar to a spear and it was brimming with ice mana. With a smile on my face I started hacking at the base of the natural weapon with my new daggers, humming a long-forgotten cheery tune under my breath. This will be perfect for testing the merits of a staff against a wand. I thought to myself, the head of a bearwoman rolling past my feet. The argument had been one which had interested me for some time. I¡¯ll have to be careful not to break it. I thought as the fragile material cracked with my every swing. Eventually I was left with a stick of permafrost of the perfect length for a staff, the base webbed with cracks, and tiny pieces flaking off every time I moved it. The arena wide battle was still raging, the two at its centre had been fighting pretty much exclusively with physical attacks, craters pocked the stands wherever their exchanges took place. The woman whose skin tone matched #FFFFFF was the stronger of the two, despite the pair blurring about the coliseum she had managed to keep the green scaled madwoman off the sand. The fighters appeared to be slowing however, the bout would likely conclude soon. Thankfully I had taken the best components from the corpse and the only thing of any use which remained were the scales. They held magic, though not much, perhaps enough to make a jacket which kept one warm in a blizzard. Nonetheless I was severely lacking in spell components so I set to work gouging them out one by one with my snake-tooth daggers and placing them in my black velvet pouch, making sure to avoid damaging them as much as possible. The two possible gods ran out of steam when I was only a quarter of the way done degloving the snake, half of its white exterior now a fleshy pink. ¡°Fine, fine, you win?¡± the green tailed snake lady admitted in sibilant defeat, the voice - still amplified by their magic - echoing around the stadium. Even so I likely wouldn¡¯t have heard it with my bone plugs installed if it weren''t for the sudden stillness which overtook the crowd. Where before they were apoplectic with frenzied rage - baring teeth and fang, now they were calm, almost placid, as they took their seats; as if nothing had happened. I stopped in my work at the change in atmosphere, beginning to suspect there was some connection between the crowd and the goddesses. ¡°You know the rules sister, directly killing a mortal would violate the treaty,¡± the ghostly lady chided, not even out of breath. I looked about at the truly decimated coliseum (about ten percent was destroyed) and found the pair back where they had started, upon their dais. ¡°Then let there be war, you would enjoy it just as much as me,¡± she hissed, bitter at her defeat. ¡°That I would,¡± she agreed with a nod, ¡°but our mother would not be pleased¡­¡± she trailed off, the implication enough to make her sister shiver. I blanched at the news, I knew the pair must be blood thirsty to have created such an elaborate trap to toy with mortals but I had been relying on the fairer of the two to keep me safe. ¡°Look - look at what that thing, that Zombie,¡± she said, spitting the word, ¡°has done to my kin. If someone were to skin Pelagius would you not rip them apart and send their souls to our mother¡¯s domain?¡± ¡°It does not matter, the rules are the rules,¡± the first sister reiterated, more annoyed. She took a breath and lowered her combat stance, ¡°If you want this mortal to face a true death then you need only ensure his next opponent is too strong for him,¡± she consoled. I didn¡¯t like the way they were discussing my fate so casually, although my hands slowly continued reaving the next scale without my conscious thought. ¡°STOP THAT YOU WORM!¡± the scaly deus shouted. Momentarily turning her attention from her sister; I did so. She calmed herself, still on one knee after surrendering, took a breath and addressed her sister - who had worn a disturbing smile throughout the exchange, ¡°it¡¯s only a Lv.25 mortal adjacent creature, with no subclass. A Lv.24 magical beast, a snake no less, should have been able to destroy it with ease.¡± Anger bubbling at the last she stood once more, just less than half of the remaining spectators did so in sympathy. A glowing white blade, razorsharp, appeared in the pale lady¡¯s hand; resting upon the snakekin¡¯s shoulder, next to her neck. All traces of a mocking smile gone from the stronger god¡¯s features. The weaker god was instantly cowed, she and the other fans lowered back down in unison. More words were spoken between the pair but I wasn¡¯t listening. That sword, which had disappeared, was far too interesting. Frantically I retrieved my notebook from my bag and started jotting down everything I had seen, I wasn¡¯t overly concerned with whatever politics this world''s gods were up to but that sword¡­ It contained a stable mix of both holy and unholy mana - something I had proven to be impossible. The third law of magic, opposites attract, meant that an item imbued with two types of mana would have that mana move to the same point and when the two interacted they would annihilate each other. The only stability that had been found when trying to use something with two opposing mana types was natural products. Much like the second law of magic the third seemed to be violated exclusively by the natural world, hence the existence of dual magi with opposing mana types. Creating an item which used non opposing mana types, for example wind and fire, was easy. When I had seen the sword it had appeared a glowing white with golden undertones but even from this distance I could see the dark purple, unholy core beneath. I sketch a cross section as I had seen it. Despite the proximity of the two opposing forces they never quite touched, suspended and moving like oil on water. It was mesmerising and the memory of it filled my mind as I tried to recall and record every minute detail of the structure. The material which supported the interaction appeared to be a type of crystal, I was unable to determine its weight given the deceptive strength of the divine, but the mad god woman had held it with a casual ease. I didn¡¯t even want to think of the logistics involved in making such a thing; getting a celestial and a fallen to work in tandem to fuel the project, then again politics was never my strong suit. I was just finishing up the annotations on my diagram when the snake I had been standing atop vanished. The area was cleared in the blink of an eye and looking up I saw that the stands and the people on them were once more whole, the stage was set for the: ¡°Second round is about to begin!¡± pause for applause, ¡°This is the first competitor The Throne has selected in more than a century that has made it past the first, so the second fighter will be someone rather special. A soul we were quite fortunate to acquire, a fighter, a peacekeeper, the one, the only, The Paladin!¡± The audience stamped their feet, hooting and hollering in support. Once more the iron gate rose and the clank of heavy armoured feet could be heard coming from the darkness of the tunnel. ? I readied myself, hurriedly putting away my notes and withdrawing my new staff, a venom sac, and a couple of the snake''s scales. The crowd went silent once more, leaving only the sound of weighted steps. Reluctantly, I turned my attention from the two gods and stepped, straight backed, to the centre of the arena, ready to meet my next challenger - however challenging they may be. My Life Sense picked up nothing as I heard the figure approach, but using my Soul Manipulation I was able to see the hazy outline of a knight, walking through the darkness. How is this possible? I thought, Even undead appear in my Life Sense, thanks to the tiny life forms that live on them. Is this ¡®Paladin¡¯ using some kind of hiding skill, do they serve a deceptive god?¡­ were these two gods of trickery? No, they seem more like goddesses of violence¡­ maybe he is a¡­¡± The first part of him to poke out into the light and my suspicion was confirmed. The black plate which covered the appendage was slightly transparent, nay, the entire figure was transparent. The Ghost stepped forth with confidence laying his foot into the sunlight. He wore a complete set of black plate, not an inch of skin visible. His movements were mechanical but still held remembered grace, a dangerous combination. There was the motif of a skull etched onto the knight¡¯s helm in a white scratchy design. A Paladin of death? I wondered. Curiously the sun didn¡¯t seem to affect him, he had no protective enchantment similar to my Sunscreen, the light just seemed to refuse to affect him. This would be a difficult fight without my Soul Manipulation skill. I thought, grateful for the unsettling ability. As I had experienced before, ghosts couldn¡¯t be affected by the physical, and magical attacks only disrupted them for a time, unless the spell was far more powerful than the enemy. With that thought in mind I used Identify: Name: Identify skill too low to determine Title: Identify skill too low to determine Race: Identify skill too low to determine Class: ******** Lv.100 Sub-classes: Identify skill too low to determine Age: Identify skill too low to determine Skills: Identify skill too low to determine Spells: Identify skill too low to determine Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine Congratulations: The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I managed to maintain my posture as the ghostly Paladin neared. ¡°This bout is sure to afford plenty of entertainment, we have had The Paladin for a number of years and he has never disappointed,¡± the equally ghostly woman announced with a fervour in her voice. The combatant came to stand inches away, much as the snake had before, waiting for the signal. Not willing to see what the gods would be able to do if I violated their unspoken ¡®rules¡¯ I chose to stand and wait also. ¡°Enough of this, Begin¡± The snake lady hiss-bellowed, annoyance heavy in her tone. Not wasting any time this go around I launched myself forward at the undead. He didn¡¯t react as I layed a splayed palm on his breastplate. I used Soul Manipulation to compress the figure into a ball¡­ I used Soul Manipulation to compress¡­ I used Soul Manipulation¡­ Nothing happened. The looming figure looked down at me, my leg behind me as I¡¯d sprinted straight into him with no effect. Oh¡­ Shit! I was all I had time to think as The Paladin picked me up by the wrist and threw me bodily. The next thing I knew I was seeing stars, slumped against the barrier of the arena. Sound came back to me with a cacophony of cheering, I rubbed my head as I tried to stand. My vision swam and it took several attempts to get to my feet, the items which I had prepared were scattered about me. I couldn¡¯t have been out long as the Paladin was still near the centre of the arena, seeming content to approach at a measured pace. His steps were stiff and golemotic. I may have been imagining it but I thought I saw a flicker of pity in the thing''s eyes right before I was sent flying. If my enemy was going to give me time, I was obliged to use it. Soul Manipulation, my trump card against ghosts, seemed not to work on something so powerful, what''s more he could interact directly with physical objects. That made him a poltergeist. I should have expected as much, a knight that couldn¡¯t fight wouldn¡¯t have made a strong opponent. As he slowly made his way menacingly over, I staggered about collecting the ingredients I had dropped. My foe had travelled about half the distance before I was finally able to try my idea. I wouldn¡¯t be able to overwhelm this poltergeist with mana, certainly not with my burned out left arm, but I might be able to win by incapacitation¡­ if that were allowed. Using the Icy scales for rigidity, the venom sac for aerial dispersion, and the ice spike staff to amplify the working I started the spell creation. My right hand alone directed - the first layer, my chanting - the second, my legs - the third, and my belly dancing - the last. This would be the first fourth layer spell this body would cast but thanks to the strengthening of my mana system it should be able to manage it with little damage. The knight was about a quarter of the arena¡¯s length away by the time the preparations for the spell were complete. I smiled as I added the final touch, letting the Soul Manipulation skill flow throughout my mana, as I pointed the spiky staff towards The Paladin. I had no idea if it would work, but I was always eager to learn, and besides, any normal spell would just pass straight through the poltergeist - maybe disrupting him slightly. The spell formed about the point of my newly acquired staff, a slowly growing ball of dense, spinning, white snow, contained within its spherical structure. My adversary did not halt in his robotic march. ¡°Whatsss the Hell wasss that?!¡± came an incredulous hiss through the tannoy spell. ¡°There are no ice spells, he cannot hide that from our System access.¡± The last said almost pleadingly to her sister, looking for answers. ¡°Something interesting¡­¡± her relative returned, a sinister yet coy cadence to her voice. The magical construction leapt forth, taking with it some of the power of the skill which I had let infuse every part of my physical being. Again The Paladin did not err in his advance, seeming not to notice the coming attack. The spell met with the ghostly form of my opponent and I crossed my fingers. With the sound of shattering glass, the spell struck the poltergeist and I fisted the air in success. From the point of impact a storm of white burst forth, obscuring the black knight from mine, and everyone else''s vision. The crowd hushed, waiting with bated breath for the reaction; I, no different. ¡°Cheater!¡± the deity of a reptilian persuasion accused loudly when the mist finally cleared and The Paladin was once more visible; encased in a thick block of ice. ¡°Calm yourself,¡± her sister instructed, clearly knowing something her fellow god did not. Congratulations: Something felt different about the skill, much as others had done since I had passed the lv.10 threshold. Somehow I now knew that I could turn the spirits of my dead into ghostly allies¡­ an interesting ability. Notification: My stomach churned, it was as if some invisible hand had reached into my abdomen and began fondling my innards, an intensely uncomfortable experience. There was no doubt now, this mysterious D had to be a god. What¡¯s more, it would appear that he truly did have the level of control over the system that he had implied in his previous message. This gave birth to an explosion of questions but I forced them down. I would get out of my current predicament before finding more trouble for myself. I was just about to approach my newest test subject when a sudden cracking shattered the stunned silence of the coliseum. Cold air poured forth from widening splits in the icy prison and in quick succession the once stone-like permafrost turned to little more than frozen pebbles. The knight continued his inevitable walk as if nothing had happened. The crowd went wild for their champion. I was about to concoct another spell, since he didn¡¯t seem to be in any hurry when a voice came booming out from the commentator¡¯s box. ¡°Destroy him!¡± the woman who I had assumed to be the more reasonable of the two bellowed out, her hair floating about her like snakes and her eyes red and bloodshot. I didn¡¯t have time to try and figure out the sudden change in her demeanour as The Paladin was on me in the blink of an eye. There was a blur. One moment I was on one side of the arena the next I was crashing, feet first, into the other. The barrier flexed slightly, waves of force spreading out from the point of impact in colourful ripples. A cracking sound came from my leg at the moment of collision and the fervour of the crowd seemed to double. I took a moment to mentally note the construction of the barrier and how it behaved under stress before falling to the ground, landing on protesting feet and pointing my ice staff at the black streak with clouds of sand rising behind it. My opponent just seemed to want to end the fight, resignation evident in his eyes, but the spirit - if not the word - of the goddess''s order appeared to compel him. He took from my hand, before I could react, my new magical foci; snapping the icy implement over one knee; he turned once more into an obfuscated black mass, so fast were his movements. He slowed considerably to deliver a painful punch to my abdomen, which only sent me reeling. I tried Wind Blade, Flame, and even Necrotising Bolt but nothing had any effect, passing through him with no noticeable impact. I would have tried what I had done before, Soul Manipulation, but it took far too long to become one with the skill as I had before. Each attack I threw out was countered with a bare handed strike, designed not to send me flying but to injure, he didn¡¯t even unsheath the massive greatsword strapped to his back. After a broken wrist, and two broken toes, I decided to switch up my approach. To my surprise it worked. I feinted a spell, holding out my hand as I had before with Flame but instead focused on the counter attack; a haymaker coming round, slow, from the right. If I had cast my spell I couldn¡¯t have seen it for the fire. I ducked under the swing and took a shot at his helmet, aiming for an uppercut that may ring the bell of any normal man. Just before impact I was able to imbue my right hand with Soul Manipulation ensuring a solid hit. My hand struck the bottom of the helm, sending it flying into the air. I jumped back from any further engagement, shaking out the pain that strike had caused. When I looked up I was shocked. ¡°Orlando!¡± I asked aloud, unable to hold back my surprised outburst. The familiar face of my adversary remained frozen in rigour mortis, his march of termination unhalted. His eyes however told a different story, one of confusion, shame and surprise. ? ¡°What an interesting turn of events!¡± the ¡®destroy¡¯ ordering commentator commentated. ¡°Does this newcomer to our event truly recognise the fallen goddesses avatar?¡± she asked rhetorically to uproarious applause and speculative laughter. Her demeanour had shifted and where before she appeared the image of bedevilled villainy now she looked like nothing more than a young woman excited to be watching the latest sport. Her hair returned to normal. ¡°Maniae?¡± her sister asked in a voice that was surprisingly caring for a creature I had only seen the more violent aspects of. I took note of the name as I failed to dodge another punch which cracked a couple of ribs and sent me sprawling; I wanted to know as much as I could about my captors to give me the best chance of escape. ¡°Maniae, are you alright?¡± the snake goddess asked with concern. ¡°Why wouldn''t I be?¡± she shot back cheerily. ¡°Your eye, it¡¯s twitching again.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like our uncle has been meddling in our little game.¡± she replied with a forced laugh which sent shivers down my spine, bent over Orlando''s knee. I heard no more of the conversation as they ceased to use their amplification spell but I saw the discourse continue far above. With no more information forthcoming I returned my attention to the problem at hand. I didn¡¯t hate Orlando, how could I? He had only ever done what he thought to be right and I couldn''t complain that he was being unfair. My overzealousness had caused far more than an acceptable amount of damage for the data I had recovered. And I had disobeyed my long dead master¡¯s first rule: ¡°Don¡¯t get caught.¡± No, dodge, I thought of him, kick to my thigh, as, punch to my chin, more of a friend, follow up to my temple, than an enemy. As I pushed myself back up from the sand I found it hard to hold to my conclusion. Still looking at the emotions roiling behind his eyes, I knew that at the very least I didn¡¯t wish such a fate upon him. He clearly didn¡¯t recognize me, and why should he. By the emotion which I was struggling to detect between emotionless swings I assumed this not to be the first child he had been forced to kill. The thought made me sick¡­ in principle¡­ Truth be told, I hadn''t been overly attached to the races of the world for some years. At least I thought that was the case, something tickled at the back of my mind, telling me that was off in some way but I was forced to dismiss it as a roundhouse kick came for my head. Whatever happened I could not afford for that precious piece of biological decoration to be destroyed. Now I knew what I was looking for, I could see what was happening, I could make out the cause, mind mana. Unlike in Howard(gods protect him)¡¯s case I could see the magic filling Orlando¡¯s spirit, now that I was looking for it. Leaning back on the fallible laws of magic, the second to be precise, I tried meeting his punch with one of my own - filled with mental mana. It repelled what controlling magic there was in his hand, leaving him just enough time to wiggle his fingers before the appendage was once more flooded with the white magic of the mind. No, not entirely white, looking more closely this was more wild than regular magic, it bucked and turned and when it did Orlando would either launch a far more, or less, powerful attack; one time even stopping to pick up and inspect a grain of sand. This chaotic bent of the magic was represented by a purple underglow. I couldn¡¯t see it, as the goddess was blocking my sight, but based on the purple and orange sea I had travelled through to get here I assumed it to be Maniae¡¯s influence. The Paladin¡¯s eyes widened when he realised what I had done. His eyes, of course! I thought, as a plan came to me. He still had command of his optical faculties; why? It was a vent, to allow the body to still function. If his personality was suppressed completely he wouldn¡¯t retain any of his fighting skills. And that¡¯s all a Paladin truly had to offer, their power came from their patron - they were a conduit for holy mana. Maniae must be his new patron. I thought as I failed to dodge yet another attack which sent me flying ten feet. With each strike he was growing stronger and stronger, clearly intent on Destroying me both mentally and physically. The goddess of Light has fallen. I pondered as the back of my mind worked on the spell diagram. Now that I thought back on it, the signs were there. I hadn¡¯t seen a single one of her worshipers since waking up nor had I heard anyone mention them. I had seen churches but nothing distinguished them as belonging to the Goddess of Light. The spell diagram was ready, the crowd was once more in an uproar, not quite at each other¡¯s throats. looking up, I saw a heated yet silent discussion between this arena¡¯s patonnes. This was the perfect time to act. Through the fight I had been repairing myself with Necrotic Healing but it was beginning to struggle to keep up with Orlando¡¯s increasing pace. Taking a strategic shot to the groin I was sent flying the right direction, scooping up the discarded ghostly helm I readied myself. Sliding to a stop with a grin I began chanting. While I had been flung about the arena like a rag-doll, I was making a diagram in the sand, a spell structure. Caught up in their family drama the goddesses hadn¡¯t noticed but there was curiosity behind Orlando¡¯s eyes, even more so as he found himself attacking me next to his helmet, in the centre of the drawing. I took the two handed strike which pounded me into the sand so that I could gather enough concentration to use Soul Manipulation to reinforce Glacius Solero and run through the spell diagram about us to increase its power, and slightly change its effects. The flash of light blue was enough to steal divine attention for a moment but seeing I was trying the same trick again, they swiftly turned back to their argument, the crowd not stunned this time, already shouting, ¡°Break out!¡± and ¡°Now¡¯s not the time to chill out!¡± None of them appeared to notice the slightly ethereal quality to the ghost ice. I did, and I was glad the spell had worked as expected. I plunged my hand through the intangible ice and into the equally nonphysical poltergeist, right into his eye. It was the hole in the nervous system which the controlling white and purple magic didn¡¯t guard. Using this gap in the defences and coating my probing hand in physical enhancement mana; I used the third suggestion of magic, opposites attract, to coax forth a thread of mana. Already, the imprisonment was cracking, but I couldn¡¯t rush this part. Staring at my splintering reflection in the light blue ice I focused entirely on the sliver of mana I felt within my grasp. The integrity of the spell seemed to have halved by the time I took the mental mana in hand and was able to fold it into the spell I had been chanting this entire time. Interestingly the crowd hadn¡¯t changed their tune despite the strange occurrences. Perhaps they could not see and only had the knowledge of their creatures? I wondered, it made sense as only the first and most powerful gods of a given pantheon could create actual life. The erratic nature of my mind and its tangential tendencies nearly cost me the spell as the slivering worm of chaotic mental mana tried to buck my grasp. Thankfully I was able to stabilise the spellshape before catastrophe could strike, though the increasing rate of cracking, amplified by the crowd''s excitement proved equally distracting. I began weaving together the spell: A stable portal grew behind me, starting at the size of a pea and expanding to that of a man in seconds. Everything appeared right this time, the image on the other side exactly what I had expected and clear as a bell. The deity had noticed the draw on her mana and the extrusion in her domain. ¡°Stop him!¡± echoing throughout the arena was the last thing I heard as I fell through the tear in space, Orlando breaking free and tearing after me and into the dimensional rip, as per his patron¡¯s orders. Chapter 16: Lord of Bones I Chapter 16: Lord of Bones I A ball of poisonous liquid whizzed past me, sizzling a line along my rudimentary Bone Armour as it did. Those giant frogs had been harassing the fort for too long. ¡°Die!¡± I cackled, hitting one of the cart sized monsters at the peak of its jump with Necrotising Bolt. It withered to a husk, no bigger than a regular treefrog. ¡°Incoming!¡± Orlando cried from his position in the marshalling yard, by the crack in the exterior wall. I looked over from my posting atop the wall just in time to see the impact; wobbling, my feet gave way under the tremors. The colossal bronze bull had made its move, busting the crumbling stone wide open and letting the ash creatures seep in. Orlando would be overwhelmed if he was left there with only the earth golems to aid him, but leaving the walls would give the jumping poison spitters free rein to pelt us from behind. I clenched my teeth as I strained to think of a solution to the dilemma. How had I gotten into this mess? ? I had just escaped the clutches of a pair of violent goddesses by creating a portal, with one of the system spells as a component. Denigrations: It had been an experiment that I was forced to conduct as I couldn¡¯t think of anything else with strong enough ties to my new physical plane to create a portal. At least I had learned it was possible, although the price was high. The system was trying to push another notification at me, it was different somehow, but I ignored it. As soon as I landed in the grassy courtyard of a ruined fort, I turned about to watch the portal I had just jumped through. Less than a second later, Orlando¡¯s armoured ghost sprinted out moments before the magic ceased to function. I could hear the divine cries of rage cut off leaving the metallic racket of a knight charging. He was still under the influence of the celestial, Maniae¡¯s, mana and was following her order to ¡°Stop¡± me. I was thankful it appeared to have superseded her previous order to ¡°destroy¡± or the Lv.100 Paladin may have smashed through me at lethal speed. In his eyes there was a mixture of surprise, puzzlement, and reluctant regret. It was the only part of him over which he still held dominion and his emotions were as clear as day. He believed that, despite my achievements, I wouldn¡¯t be able to escape him, being so much higher level than myself he may have a point. Luckily for both of us I didn¡¯t intend to escape. His raven black hair, once gold, trailed behind him as he ran, his head the only part visible, the rest of his poltergeist body covered in black plate armour, the helm having been turned into motes of magic upon the activation of the portal spell. He reached out and grasped my wrist, thinking to drag me away. I couldn¡¯t slip his grip but I didn¡¯t need to. As soon as he turned about, intent on dragging me back through the tear in space his body froze. He hadn¡¯t noticed it had already closed, there was no way back to that extra dimensional island the Gods had created to play their games. Orlando turned statuesque, my left wrist still caught in a vice. I had expected as much, when someone under a controlling spell is unable to fulfil an order they often cease to move, unless their controller has given a second order for when the first cannot be completed. Most don¡¯t think to. Plunging my hand through his presently ethereal eye holes I set to work, I had until Maniae found some means to send an order to rescue the Paladin¡¯s soul from this predicament. The exposed ends of the mana were frayed where I had grasped them before, when casting the spell which had removed us from their domain. I dragged a good amount of the mana within him into the working, using the connection the power had to its mistress to fuel the substantial remainder of the required power. Now there only resided about a quarter of the white mental magic, tinted with purple, which had been used to control Orlando. I left as much on purpose. Now that I had enough time I drew out a thread of power, using its opposite, and ran it through my own mana network, purifying it. The white stuff acted similarly to the souls I had absorbed, bolstering the strength of this vessel¡¯s mana pathways without the possible undiscovered side effects. It took half an hour of standing in a weird embrace before every ounce of the mana was absorbed and my body became capable of using an expert spell more than once in a day. As soon as the last proverbial drop of controlling mana left Orlando¡¯s body the frozen poltergeist suddenly slid to the floor. The grip which had bruised my arm finally relented, his knees giving out and tears streaming from his deep blue eyes. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. I didn¡¯t know what to do. I had never been put in such a position as this before, it was one thing to console a child like Howard (Gods who don¡¯t hate me protect him) but a fully grown man? I had seen this kind of grief before, in the past. It was deep and completely incomprehensible to me. Last I had witnessed this was before I became an Archmagus, or even a court mage, I was on the rearlines of some long forgotten war between two countries which had been lost to time. The case was similar to this one, the enemy mage corps had attacked at night, sending a mental mage in person to infiltrate the camp; a tactic so risky we hadn¡¯t expected it. No one knew anything was wrong at first, the mind magi delayed her orders to give herself time to escape. An hour before dawn all hell broke loose, we turned on our own. Half the eight-man tents contained a controlled person, they killed 30 percent of our army without a sound and shortly after we were in chaos. By the time myself and three other magi devised a counter spell it was too late. The enemy had used the disarray to start their own offensive. I fled. A fire mage, thirty years my senior, greying and pot bellied; joyous but lazy, had stayed behind to give us as much time as possible. I could still see the pillar of flame as he made his last stand, far more honourable than I had ever expected of him, far more respectable than I. He had taught me how to cheat at cards. I didn¡¯t even remember his name¡­ Some of the cursed, as the survivors took to calling them, were killed. Some chose to remain and die fighting for vengeance or redemption, whichever they thought they could achieve. Some were dragged away by their friends, their faces emotionless and their bodies¡¯ unable to move. Some ran with the rest of our retreating army, in complete denial of their actions. And then there were those like Orlando who, when the spell ended, broke down then and there with steel flying and fire burning all about them - no matter what anyone did they were inconsolable. I ignored them in my flight, only concerned with preserving my notebooks. I shivered to dispel the foul mood which had overtaken me and sat, cross-legged, on the lush grass beside Orlando; despairing upon his knees. His appearance was slumped and defeated. I couldn¡¯t see his face because of the long black hair hanging over it but tears of ectoplasm dripped every few seconds, splashing on the dark green blades. Not a sound came from the muscular form of The Paladin¡¯s spirit, his shoulders rose and fell with silent sobs. I sat with him for some time, I know not how long, with naught but the sounds of nature. I only know I had to use my trio of protection and enhancement spells and that it was night when the silence was finally broken. I had considered many times using the new minor evolution of Soul Manipulation, ghost buddies, that this mysterious D who had such control over the system had forced upon me, in order to get Orlando on my side. A part of me wanted to discover what it may do. If I hadn¡¯t met him previously I probably would have done so without a thought, perhaps I was getting soft in my old age, but I felt I couldn¡¯t take him under my control after he had been through such an experience. I chuckled aloud at the idea of my bony body bending and going soft, Orlando finally stirred; I heard his voice for the first time since he had effectively imprisoned me. ¡°We need to move.¡± he said in a certain tone, his voice disturbingly undisturbed; no trace of the grief that had only moments before overtaken him. The words seemed to be an instruction to his ghostly body and his slumped over form was spurred into action, starting to stand. ¡°We?¡± I asked, knowing we hadn¡¯t parted on the best of terms. ¡°Yes, we. I don¡¯t know who you are but you have saved me from¡­¡± Orlando trailed off, ¡°you saved me,¡± he continued in a darker pitch. ¡°I have to return the favour.¡± ¡°How so?¡± I questioned, rising to be on a level with him - less a foot. I was uncertain whether I should reveal my identity to Orlando if it would stop him from saving me from a threat I hadn¡¯t yet foreseen. ¡°Gods are petty, cruel, and cannot stand the idea that a mortal might have gotten one over on them. They have rules so Maniae and Lyssa can¡¯t attack us directly but that doesn¡¯t stop them from sending their followers on the mortal plane from killing us¡­ well you at the very least. Something is likely already heading this way. I¡¯ll probably need to fight it off, ¡± Orlando informed, stretching his incorporeal body. Now that the grief had passed he seemed harder than I remembered, without the cheer and warmth his lie detecting aura gave off. Now he felt cold and detached as he blasphemed against the gods that as a Paladin he had championed. Something had happened before his gladiatorial imprisonment, likely related to the apparent fall of the goddess of light. Despite his stoney exterior he still seemed fragile, so I chose not to pry and not to reveal my true identity. ¡°You¡¯re quite sure of yourself,¡± I said, joining him in his martial stretches to loosen up a body that had been sitting for too long. ¡°I¡¯m level 100, I could probably fight off anything she can send but I can¡¯t ensure you would survive, thus, we need to move,¡± he said matter-of-factly with some of that arrogance that had been so charming in his previous incarnation, returning. ¡°That''s as may be but you no longer have a patron. I can¡¯t see holy mana within you. You wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything like that pillar of light you used on the dragon made of fire,¡± I argued. Orlando looked at me strangely for a moment. ¡°That¡¯s right, you¡¯ve heard of me. You recognised me at the start of the fight. None of the people I¡­ none of my opponents have recognised me in, well I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯s been since I died. After what I did I thought they would have buried my name,¡± he replied. ¡°I¡¯m a scholar of history,¡± I lied, scratching my chin absently and looking up at the half moon. Orlando grunted disbelievingly in response and kept an eye on me as he went on: ¡°Even without any powers I¡¯m still a Lv.100: I have strength, speed, and swordsmanship,¡± he said, striking a crumbling, ruined wall beside us and turning it to powder in an area the size of his fist. The Paladin tried to shoot me a reassuring smile but it felt wrong on his face and soon wobbled off of its own accord. ¡°I¡¯ll need some ingredients for a scrying spell to tell us where we are and where any enemies might be,¡± I responded once his expression had settled back into a mix of hopeless and hopeful. ¡°I can answer the first,¡± he replied. ¡°You can?¡± I asked, looking about in the moonlight at our surroundings. Three stone walls, perhaps half their original height and overrun by vines and trees, enclosed us. The final edge was abutted by the crumbling facade of a militaristic fort. The portcullis long since rusted, leaving a heap of stone that may have once been the only entrance to this grass carpeted courtyard. ¡°I know this place like the back of my hand, I recognise it even in this state. I grew up on a farm not far from here. This is what remains of Fort Far-Reach.¡± The words seemed to resonate with the System notification I had been suppressing. Chapter 17: Lord of Bones II Chapter 17: Lord of Bones II
Settlement System
Far-Reach Fort: Fife
Sustenance: 0 ¨‹ Resources: 0 ¨‹ Population: 0 ¨‹ Power: 0 ¨‹
Water: 0 ? Wood: 0 ? Labourers: 0 ? Money: 0 ?
Food: 0 ? Stone: 0 ? Craftsmen: 0 ? Reputation: 0 ?
Herbs and Spices: 0 ? Metal: 0 ? Fighters: 0 ? Trade: 0 ?
Buildings: 5 ¨‹
Hunter¡¯s Shack: Lv.1¨‹
A single person dwelling that can be built in dense forests, poorly camouflaged to avoid the wildlife''s attention. This tiny structure allows for rudimentary butchering and skinning. The utilities are very basic and may frustrate an experienced Hunter if they are forced to use them for too long. This building can be upgraded to include nicer facilities, increase hunting efficiency, and increase the number of hunters that can use it at a time. +3 Meat/Month Requires a Hunter: 0/1
Lumber Camp: Lv.1¨‹
A simple collection of tents where freemen and serfs, under the direction of a Foreman, come together to prepare lumber. This structure only supports 5 labourers and 1 Foreman at full capacity. The tents are made from old canvas and the beds scratchy straw, not the sort of place one would choose to work at for long. This building must be placed in or near a forest and is better placed near a source of water. This building can be upgraded to include permanent cabins for: processing lumber into planks, drying logs, Foreman¡¯s accommodation, workers bunkhouse, ect. +28 Wood/Month Requires a Foreman: 0/1
Woodworker¡¯s Shed: Lv.1¨‹
A rudimentary structure, though well made. This building puts a roof over, at most, three Woodworkers, allowing them to create things from wood, outside the effects of the elements. This structure is small and does not have enough storage for an experienced Carpenter¡¯s tools but woodwork for other simple buildings can be done here. This building can be upgraded to include: wood storage, tool storage, apprentice¡¯s haystack, head Woodworker¡¯s bed, ect. +150% Speed of Construction Requires a Woodworker: 0/1
Farmer¡¯s Steadings: Lv.1¨‹
A basic campus, including a stable, pen, grain-shed, and farmhouse. These structures are only large enough to contain: 1 beast of burden, 3 livestock, 21 bushels of grain, and 1 Farmer + family or 10 serfs + driving Farmer. These facilities may be sufficient when starting a community but will be outgrown when farmland exceeds 3 acres. These buildings can be upgraded to include: large stables, sheds, slaughter houses, ect. +210 Grain/Month Requires a Farmer: 0/1
Village Hall: Lv.1¨‹
An elementary structure made from stone, with a thatched roof, and three or four times the size of a regular house. The Village Hall can be used for any number of things from housing settlers while residencies are being constructed: housing shows, boozing, teaching children or just keeping them out of the way, and sessions of prayer to any god (be warned, excessive prayer to a single deity may, overtime, be enough to constitute holy ground for that god, then their own rules will apply). The main function of the Village Hall is to organise town meetings and discuss the orders of the day/week/month/year. The structure is slightly too small to comfortably be used for any of the above actions. This building can be upgraded to include: a bar, pews, desks, a flag, ect. Once the Town Hall is built this building may be changed to better suit whichever role it fills. +10 Morale Requires a Administrator: 0/1
I finally relented, giving in and letting the System¡¯s notification appear before me. I had expected a short message, perhaps in relation to my knighthood, but what greeted me was far grander. An entire new window, similar to the Status window I occasionally checked, there was even a tab system that let me navigate between the two. I spent several minutes examining the information that had just been presented to me. It was a lot, and appeared to be able to expand to cover more, though that was currently unavailable. Out of curiosity, I tried building a Village Hall right where I stood. For the first time the system changed form, moving from its windowed projection into a red ghostly illusion of a rather modest building, a single story version of the structure I had seen in Urila, during The Tower adventure. Orlando looked at me strangely as I walked about the marshalling yard until I found a large enough clearing for the red image to turn blue. It appeared, much like regular system notifications, I was the only one able to see that which was intended for me. I thought Place it here when the colour finally did change. The image locked in place, no longer moving with my thoughts and¡­ that was it. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Why doesn¡¯t it magically make me a Village Hall? I pondered, mildly annoyed. Notification: That was¡­ unnerving. Until this point I hadn¡¯t thought much about the System reading my thoughts, it seemed emotionless and golemotic. The idea of some mysterious god, whose motivations I didn¡¯t understand, looking through my mind gave me the ick. Creating mental defence spells had just risen on my to do list. ¡°Ht hum,¡± Orlando coughed, having finally grown tired of my pacing about, far off looks, and muttered rambling. He likely only tolerated it so long, as the people of this world would be used to seeing someone staring off into space from time to time. ¡°We should get moving,¡± he reminded in an authoritative tone, waiting for me to start. ¡°Not so fast - as I said before, I believe I should cast a scrying spell to see if I can find whatever enemies you expect to be lurking before they find us.¡± ¡°What are you waiting for? Cast it then,¡± he said with a furrowed brow and slight irritation in his words. ¡°I need some ingredients,¡± I explained. ¡°Ingredients? Can¡¯t you just select the Spell on the Status page? Come to think of it, you have been using an exceptionally wide range of spells. I know little of magic but most Wizards I have seen were limited to one type, you almost remind me of¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m a ritualist,¡± I said, pulling that out of my arse to stop that train of thought before it left the station. Orlando had been brightening slightly from talking but the sombre air returned when I cut him off so I continued my bullshit explanation in the hopes it might divert his attention. ¡°Yes, a ritualist. We use items with some magical or mundane significance to create magic organically. Not directly manipulating mana with our will but encouraging it with natural formations and ingredients,¡± I lied, impressed with my unexpected eloquence. Orlando took a moment to think over the idea, absently kicking a sharp bit of flint through a tree. ¡°I lived a long time, and if I learned anything it is that I know nothing.¡± I let out a breath, grateful he had bought it, although his tone was mildly haunting. ¡°I have never heard of such a thing but it¡¯s never too late to learn,¡± he ended, trying once more his shaky signature grin. ¡°Exactly,¡± I encouraged, patting him through the back. ¡°What would you need for a scrying spell? I know all too well how important it can be to know the fight you¡¯re getting into.¡± ¡°There are any number of things I could use. I say we have a look around what remains of that fort,¡± I said, gesturing toward the bailey to this motte. ¡°You go ahead,¡± he replied, ¡°I¡¯ll stand guard out here, there¡¯s only one way in and out, and we don¡¯t know when we could be attacked.¡± There was more behind his words but I decided not to press. ¡°Do you think I¡¯ll find anything?¡± I asked, conversationally, as I looked up at the collapsed balcony on which Pater once stood. ¡°It¡¯s quite likely. When I was a boy, this area of the frontier was quite safe. There was always the occasional creature that wandered forth from the wilds to the east but it was mostly peaceful.¡± The Paladin¡¯s face deepened. ¡°That was until the entire fort was lost in a single night. We still aren''t sure exactly how it happened but a necromancer took the whole castle with nothing but low level undead.¡± ¡°Really?!¡± I asked, feigning surprise. Orlando looked at me sidelong, my acting lacking, but continued: ¡°That was only the start of the troubles, a sign of what was to come. An¡­ interesting¡­ person got rid of all the undead and at the time I thought that was an end to things. The King would give the land to some other noble and things at my home would return to normal. That was not the case. This was shortly before the vampire uprising and, as it turned out, they had a base on the edge of the wilds. When whatever old monster that lived there left to join the war against the living in the capital it revealed the truth behind the peace here at Far-Reach. The truly strong monsters were being scared off from our part of the frontier by the especially powerful undead. When they left this place was swarmed with monsters.¡± He paused looking out, I followed his gaze to the collapsed pile of rubble which was once a gate. ¡°An army of irregulars was sent to defend this fort, alongside a couple of mages, the bulk of the military was focused on the vampires. Someone took the title to this land without The King¡¯s permission so they never stood a chance at a proper defence. The men and women of that force were never heard from again, and in my lifetime Far-Reach was never reclaimed from the wilds. It would appear that hasn¡¯t changed. Whatever that army took with them is likely inside,¡± he finished, gesturing into the fort proper. ¡°Noble titles can aid in defence?¡± I asked. He clearly wasn¡¯t expecting the question and took a moment to think. ¡°The System grated powers of Noble titles are a state secret and I am honorbound not to share them, even in death. Sorry lad,¡± he said, ruffling my hair. The experience was awkward for the both of us and we each seemed relieved when it was over. ¡°I..¡± he started then trailed off. ¡°I¡¯ll have a poke about,¡± I supplied instead. I walked in through an entryway filled with arrow slits, added to by a number of claw marks which had made it all the way through the stone. My feet crunched on the bones of a wide variety of monsters, the skull of a large cat, the femur of a cow-like creature and what might have been the skeleton of a massive frog? Rotting shreds of tapestry made a haunting mural as I stepped in through the remains of a once great barricade. The remains of heavy oak furniture, mostly decayed, still laid strewn about the main chamber. An attack having breached the fort. This place had not been taken easily. My eyes roamed over the long dead resistance, bones from a wide range of races; never had I seen such diversity since my brief pirate adventure, they were irregulars - perhaps there was more acceptance among the criminal class? I wandered about the ruin, looking for something of use. Some of the rooms had collapsed, all containing the results of battle. Eventually I made my way to the highest point of the building, entering the master chambers. One wall was completely missing and I could see out for miles, being atop a hill. There were nothing but endless trees as far as the eye could see, a sea of green, save for the south where the sea was relatively close by. The interior of the building wasn¡¯t such a pretty picture. This had been the final stand for most of the defenders and chunks of bone carpeted the floor. I scooped down, picking up the remains of a shattered wand. Its core was made from the hair of a Spatial Owl, perfect for my purposes. I couldn''t help but think whomever this was couldn¡¯t have been a very good spatial magi if they ended up trapped. I also found a silver bed pan which I polished up enough to be reflective. I debated going back to Orlando and showing him my magic but something held me back. When he sent me in alone, I sensed he needed a minute to himself so I decided to go ahead with the working here. It would take at least a quarter of an hour to complete. Using the hair as a component and making sure to enunciate every arcane word I began. When I had fully initiated the spell I stared into the shiny metal. My vision was drawn in and soon I was floating above the castle, looking down on the forest. Sacrificing some of my blood to the spell as the prospective continued to rise, everything hostile highlighted in red. Congratulations: ¡°Do you want the good news or the bad news?¡± I asked as I stepped back out into the courtyard. Orlando was sat, head in his hands, on a stump of his own making when I appeared but swiftly stood, trying to give off the aura of confidence he clearly lacked. ¡°Let¡¯s start with the good,¡± he responded, his voice cracking at the start. We both ignored it. ¡°The good news is we don¡¯t have to worry about the monsters who live around here and took the fort.¡± ¡°That sounds like good news but you don¡¯t seem happy,¡± Orlando commented. ¡°That¡¯s because of the bad news.¡± ¡°Go ahead.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve been scared off by the army that¡¯s starting to encircle us.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ that¡¯s not good.¡± Orlando said astutely. ¡°How bad is it?¡± ¡°To the east there is a giant bronze bull, crashing through the forest, burning the trees it can¡¯t trample with its flaming breaths. In its wake is a horde of ash creatures which move in a strange motion.¡± ¡°And the west?¡± ¡°A pack of giant colourful frogs that seem to appear and disappear when I look at them from above, perhaps teleporting.¡± ¡°To the south is the ocean, what about the north.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s there, I can¡¯t see whatever it is. But I know there are a number of enemies.¡± ¡°That¡¯s really not good.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°How long do we have till they get here?¡± ¡°Best guess? A day at the inside, two at the out.¡± I answered. ¡°That¡¯s tight. We have to stand and fight, you don¡¯t want to try and break through one force with another at your back. I¡¯m sorry kid, but it doesn¡¯t look good.¡± A moment of silence hung between us, ¡°you can use items with powerful mana to create magic?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± I replied hesitantly. ¡°I¡¯m going to go and get something. I should only be a few hours, you stay here and use those rituals of yours to get this place into the best shape you can manage,¡± he ordered, some of his mojo returning. ¡°Yes sir!¡± I replied with a mocking salute. The jest had the desired effect as I saw a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. ¡°If you were one of my men you would be properly clothed.¡± he jibed, indicating my still shirtless condition. ¡°I think my body is my greatest asset,¡± I boasted, striking a couple of poses and showing off a complete lack of muscle. This time he did chuckle briefly before wishing me farewell and jumping clear over the wall. I was left slack jawed for a moment, I really should have expected as much. I spent the first few hours gathering together the hardest looking stones from the debris. Once they were separated from the rest I used a spell I had been wanting to use for some time: Congratulations: Three figures began to pull themselves together from the rubble, each around seven feet in height and in the rough shape of a humanoid; bipedal, with a head, body, and two arms. Three was the maximum number of expert spells this body could handle in a day, but there was a reason I splurged my mana budget on these guys. The Golems waited patiently as I fiddled about with the Settlement System, eventually I was able to get what I wanted. Using the holographic illusion for building I was eventually able to get it to fill the gaps in the crumbling walls. The system automatically relayed these orders to the golems and they set to work moving the loose rubble into position. I purposely left the largest crack in the wall open as a strategic choke point since the gate was nothing but a pile of stone. I spent the next day making every preparation I could think of. I was beginning to worry when I started to hear the war machine in the shape of a bull as it ploughed its way through the woods, the moon rising at its back. Orlando was still gone and I wouldn¡¯t be able to hold my land alone. Smoke rose from the trees in the direction of the coming army and I was forced to suppress memories I¡¯d thought I¡¯d forgotten. ¡°Are you alright?¡± a voice, with some balance returned, asked. ¡°Orlando!¡± I bleeted, nearly jumping out of my skin. I hadn¡¯t detected his approach. ¡°Where have you been?¡± He grinned more earnestly before replying, ¡°What''s the matter, did you miss me?¡± I looked at him flatly, he coughed and dropped the jovialities. ¡°It was harder to find than I thought it would be. I buried it under my old farmhouse but that¡¯s long gone and nothing looks the same as it did.¡± he explained, hoisting an iron banded chest with three locks. That¡¯s not what I think it is? I thought with some excitement, already being able to feel that it was. He seemed to hesitate but after a moment he opened the trunk. Reaching inside he pulled out something I instantly recognised, a yellowed bone with black runes. ¡°This may not look like much,¡± he said, tossing me my radius, ¡°but there¡¯s a lot of power in these. Don¡¯t use them unless as a last resort,¡± he cautioned, seeing my look of glee. ¡°And probably just one of the small ones,¡± he added after a moment''s pause, ¡°the little finger.¡± he said under his breath. I was too excited to be annoyed at the comment, this was exactly what I needed. Before I had been hesitant about the upcoming fight but now I couldn¡¯t wait. Chapter 18: Lord of Bones III Chapter 18: Lord of Bones III Tension built as the day drew to a close, the moon had risen early and only added to the atmosphere. Through the previous day, the clouds had grown heavier, and now, on the cusp of nightfall, the world was bathed in the oppressive yellow of stormlight. The excitement I had felt upon finding another of my limbs, my entire left arm, had waned at the challenge that was set forth before me. Orlando, upon further consideration, had taken my radial bone from me and left in my possession only the smallest bone of my skeletal body¡¯s pinky finger - to be used only in dire need. The rest of the box had been placed, unlocked, with the rest of the battle supplies - in a corner of the marshalling yard between the strongest remaining walls. The box sat alongside other items we had managed to scavenge: We discussed our positions, I would be stationed atop the most sturdy wall, above our supplies, and I would try to attack from on high. Orlando was impressed with my forethought when I relayed that I had left a crack as a bottleneck, and he agreed to hold that position alongside our new stoney friends. Speaking of, now that all the walls had been repaired, I had the trio of golems digging pit traps in the forest at the bottom of the hill which held aloft Far-Reach Fort. I turned my back to give the order and when I turned back Orlando had disappeared again, seconds later he fell from the overcast sky, back into the fort. The ease with which he came and went somewhat eroded my faith in our defences. Over his shoulder was slung a deer. The speed with which he had achieved the feat made me feel sorry for all the Hunters I had met. ¡°Here,¡± he said, handing me the carcass. Not knowing how to respond, I took the body, my arms sagging under the weight, he had made it look as light as a feather. ¡°What do I do with this?¡± I asked, struggling under the mass of the creature. ¡°You''ve been working all day, you need to eat,¡± he elaborated. ¡°Ahh¡­ yes¡­ I, I don¡¯t know how to cook,¡± I admitted, trying to get out of what I knew was an inevitability. ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± he reassured, "I may not be a chef but I¡¯ve cooked for a camp of hungry soldiers a time or two.¡± The words were clearly said with force joviality but, despite myself, I found the concern touching. Orlando took back the body with one hand, with the other he withdrew his six-foot blade from its back harness. With apparent ease he threw the meat into the air and before it struck the ground it was skinned, gutted, and sliced into neat cuts of meat. The skin rolled itself up, the guts buried themselves, and the meat landed on a wooden table. All I could see was a flash of onyx metal and I was left to wonder if I truly knew anything of magic. My slack jawed expression seemed to bring some genuine joy to the Paladin, though he tried to hide it - poorly. ¡°Can you light the fire?¡± he asked, indicating the pile of wood. It took me a moment to regain myself; when I did, I sparked the conflagration dumbly. I was still in a mild state of shock when presented before me was a platter of meat, cooked to perfection. ¡°Don¡¯t you want any?¡± I asked, stupidly; when Orlando thrust the plate towards me, insistently. In response he passed his non platter holding hand through his plate holding one. My brain was kicked back into life by a million questions about the nature of poltergeists beginning to sprout. I had to nip them in the bud however, there was clearly no way out of this. I knew, being a zombie, anything I ate would simply sit in my stomach and rot. But in order to maintain appearances I took hold of the meat mountain. Orlando seemed pleased by my sustenantle acceptance. I had to admit, it smelled divine. I could always cut out the foot later, I consoled myself as I put slice after slice on my tongue. To give me as long as possible I secretly used the Preserve Meat spell on the pile. When I was half way through, a noise, like the bellow of an internal elephant, took both of our attention and Orlando jumped to the top of the wall to investigate. By the stony expression on the man¡¯s face I knew dinner time was over, I felt a mixture of relief and sorrow, the food had been truly delicious; I hadn¡¯t realised how much one could miss it. Climbing the wooden stairs to the battlement, as I couldn¡¯t jump twenty feet, I looked at what had stolen the sparks of joy from the Paladin¡¯s demeanour. The sight that greeted me made my freshly filled stomach churn, and I instantly regretted my meal. The atmosphere was oppressive, the storm embodied twilight and left a lagging impression of any object that moved too quickly. The Giant bronze bull, whose metal was tarnished by the heat and who had mesmerising patterns along its flanks, dancing in time to the flames within, had stopped moving about 300 feet from the base of the hill on which our fort waited. The ash creatures, which followed him in eerie silence, had begun a shambling advance. Their target was not a direct attack however; they moved from tree to tree, setting them ablaze with the embers that seemed buried within their ashy flesh. They were cleaning a path, while their main attacker waited impatiently - smoke rising from its nostrils. The billows of black soot made their way into the sky, collecting into a cloud at eye level with us on the wall. A contrasting white illusion began to manifest upon the smoky cloud. Orlando and I watched in stern silence until the figure coalesced into a familiar face. The profile of Maniae manifested upon the dark sky bubble. She appeared calm, though very much in charge. ¡°I must admit,¡± she began without any preamble, ¡°you were the most entertaining mortal we¡¯ve ever had as our guest, but you cannot be allowed to leave. The rules state that you must beat three contestants in the coliseum to be allowed to depart, and to receive the prize.¡± ¡°I was never given any list of rules, without my agreement they are not magically binding!¡± I protested, shouting into the twilight air. ¡°I can¡¯t hear you, this is one way,¡± she responded, raising a hand to stall me. Wait a minute, I thought, puzzling that one out. ¡°If you¡¯d have just won all of your matches you would have been able to leave with my blessing,¡± she continued with a sigh. ¡°But since you have left our domain, I''m forced to bring the third round to you, if you win, you can have this,¡± she said, producing a dull, dark purple, metal band; the width of a human head. It realised itself from the projection and dropped onto the horn of the beast, becoming a horn decoration. ¡°My sister thinks we should just send all our forces to kill you, and while I can¡¯t speak for her followers, they will leave you if you manage to survive the night - I believe in fairness.¡± ¡°Fairness, fairness?! You don¡¯t know the meaning of the word!¡± Orlando bursted out, shouting with emotion. ¡°How many people did you force me to slay, because they came too close to beating your little game.¡± ¡°Silence,¡± the woman bellowed, bending the surrounding trees with her volume. The facade of calm surety fell away, broken by her anger. Her hair began to float of its own accord, points aiming themselves at Orlando. The whites of her eye¡¯s turned red. The image blurred for a moment and she was back to normal. ¡°You don¡¯t know the significance of the Trials but rest assured we are just observers, we may choose the combatants but whether the participant wins or loses is up to fate, that selfish bitch,¡± she said, adding the last under her breath. ¡°And now that you have slipped my grasp you can bet there will be any number of gods looking to control an undead Paladin, the perfect receptacle for holy or unholy mana. You may have escaped me but you cannot escape your fate, you are and shall ever remain a pawn,¡± she ended with a satisfied smile before dispersing in the wind, a haunting chuckle all that remained. I looked over to Orlando, a vein bulged on his forehead and his hands clenched so hard I could feel tremors in the air from its shaking. He took in a long, slow breath then breathed out. He saw me looking at him, concerned, and spoke, ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he reassured, but even I could see the nervousness he hid behind those words. While this exchange had been going on, I had ordered my golems to return and they had just clambered their way through the entry crack. I turned from our coming foe to address them: ¡°You three are now known as the Rubble Rousers, your job is to destroy anything that enters this fort that isn¡¯t me or Orlando,¡± I ordered, pointing to myself and him in turn. The three stone giants saluted as one. Notification: As soon as the units changed roles the Settlement SystemV.2.1.7 demonstrated another of its abilities. Much as I was able to see blue and red illusions demonstrating where a building could be placed I could see similar images for the positions of my troops. I tested moving the images from one side of the courtyard to the other, when I affirmed the position of the blue hologram the golems began marching into position. ¡°What are they doing?¡± Orlando asked. ¡°Nothing,¡± I replied, deciding to stop messing with the ability. We spent the next little while just sitting and watching the army set up. I argued that we should prepare further but Orlando shot the idea down, saying that it was better to be rested before a fight. We climbed to the peak of the castle and watched from atop its roof. Just as the last of the light fled and winds from the oncoming storm really started to pick up, whistling through the holey abandoned fort, we saw the second unit of the army arrive to complete the encirclement. To the east was the bull and his forces. To the south was the sea to the north there was nothing, although my Scrying spell still picked up a number of red dots and Life Sense told me there were figures lurking in the trees; though the resolution wasn¡¯t good enough to determine what they were from this distance. And in the east, the new arrivals. Cart sized tree frogs, a vibrant green with accents of various colours and placid black eyes. They jumped higher than the tallest trees but when they landed they appeared to disappear. I had at first assumed that they teleported but that wasn¡¯t the case. The same ones seemed to jump up from the points at which they fell, are they turning invisible? I wondered. No, upon a closer inspection I could see what was going on. ¡°Are they shrinking and expanding?¡± I asked Orlando, who was dangling his feet over the edge. ¡°Hmm,¡± he asked, clearly distracted. I pointed in the direction of the creatures and he took a moment to examine the army of encroaching reptiles. ¡°Huh, that does appear to be what¡¯s happening. When they land, they''re about this size,¡± he said, indicating, with his fingers, a gap about the size of his palm.¡±Then when they jump they quickly expand to their larger form.¡± ¡°I wonder why?¡± I asked aloud as my brain worked its way through the problem. Likely some function of natural enhancement mana but I would have to dissect a specimen to be sure. Wanting to know what exactly we¡¯d be fighting I used Identify on the arrayed forces, the frogs, the ash creatures, and the bull in turn:
Name: Ribbet Title: Jumping Jack Race: Gribbiting Ropperta Class: Poison Spitter: Lv.42 Sub-classes: Acidic Poisoner: Lv. 2 Age: 89 Skills: 7 Spells: 2 Attributes: (Jumping modifier) Strength: 2/37 Agility: 4/61 Charisma: 24 Perception: 7 Willpower: 1 Intelligence: 5 Wisdom: 6
Congratulations:
Name: Jacob Smith Title: Baptised in Bal¡¯s inferno Race: Ba-Shh ¨‹: Class: Ashriven: Lv.68 Sub-classes:
    1. Embers of Despair: Lv. 5
    2. Clawing Ash: Lv.2
Age: 23 Skills: 9 Spells: 4 Attributes: Strength: 24 Agility: 36 Charisma: 0 Perception: 7 Willpower: 13 Intelligence: 26 Wisdom: 13
Name: Bal Title: False Idol Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Race: Bronze Bull Class: Identify skill too low to determine Sub-classes: Identify skill too low to determine Age: 512 Skills: Identify skill too low to determine Spells: Identify skill too low to determine Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine
When I used the skill on the last target, Bal The False Idol, he raised his horned head to the sky and let out a long and echoing cry that sounded like a thousand enraged elephants, then lowered his eyes to lock them with mine before scrapping his hooves on the ground, pulling up great clods of earth. By this point his minions, the Ba-Shh, had burned most of a straight path to the fort¡¯s wall but it didn¡¯t seem that Bal was willing to wait for them to finish. ¡°Looks like it¡¯s time to fight,¡± Orlando said, rising to his feet, some reluctance in his voice. ¡°Hold on just a moment,¡± I replied, remaining seated. ¡°Are you sure? That giant is about to charge,¡± Orlando said, one hand on the sword at his back. ¡°Just watch,¡± I responded, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Orlando looked sceptical but complied, although his grip didn¡¯t leave his weapon. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re sure?¡± the Paladin pressed, his thumb bouncing on the problem. ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± I affirmed, unsure. Just as I was about to jump off the building in fear that it might collapse under the raging bulls attack it happened. It ran through the one of its Ba-Shh, turning it into a cloud of ash, before placing a hoof straight into one of the hidden pits. The charge was brought to a dramatic halt, 100 feet from the wall. The massive beast flipping arse over teakettle, its four dinner plate hooves pointing towards the darkening clouds as it carved a furrow in the earth, its head bumping in and out of other holes my golems had prepared. It let out a startled moo, sending up a plume of smoke. ¡°There¡¯s no time for that,¡± Orlando chided, seeing me slapping my knees in laughter, although I saw the smile he tried to hide. ¡°We have monsters to fight!¡± he claimed and without further ado jumped from the top of the fort to the courtyard below, knocking down two Ba-Shh who had made their way in and were already trying to attack my Rubble Rousers, to little effect. Unlike my oversized meathead of a friend I took a moment to survey the battlefield before choosing where to deploy. The poison-spitting Gribbiting Roppertas were bouncing in a line a few hundred feet from the wall. They seemed to be content remaining ranged attackers for now, spitting their acidic balls at the centre of the ash storm that marked the Paladin¡¯s position. Speaking of the Ba-Shh, they had managed to move in on our position with deceptive speed, their silence making them difficult to track. They had begun to swarm the fort, flowing in like water; they crashed against the walls in droves, flowing around until they crashed through the crack. Orlando was blending the once mortal creatures into a fine mist, but I could already see that they were beginning to reform, coalescing about a small ember coloured marble. I was going to tell Orlando about their weakness but there was no need. As I watched he added the crushing of the cores to his choreography. He seemed to be pacing himself and not going all out, that was good because there didn¡¯t seem to be an end to the creatures, more emerged from the rear of the upside down Bal with each smoky breath. Speaking of the beast, it still appeared trapped on its back and had ordered a number of the surrounding Ba-Shh to aid in trying to rock in back right-side-up; that didn¡¯t appear to be happening very quickly. I debated leaving the fort and dealing with the Gribbiting Roppertas up close but I dismissed the idea; in the north there was still nothing and it made me uneasy. What enemy there was in that woods had chosen to wait and remain undetected. I walked down to the top of the wall, with the development of my body I would have been able to use Wind Breath to float down but in the long fight ahead I needed all the mana capacity I had recharged over the last day. In the end, staying atop the battlement seemed to be the best choice: I could engage with the expanding green frogs at a distance, keep an eye on Orlando''s fight, and stay wary of the north. One of the Gribbiting Roppertas saw my descent down the half exposed spiral staircase and shot a globdule of purple poison at me, the size of my head. Hidden behind a crumbling wall, but a drop landed on my leg, burning a finger width hole through what remained of my hose. Cursing myself for not doing so sooner, I cast Bone Armour, it was only an intermediate spell but I still wouldn¡¯t be able to channel enough mana through this worldly vessel to recreate the elaborate suit I had used in the fight against the dragon. It was, however, at the max level of a spell of its type, 20, so I was able to conjure some defences quite easily. A pool of inky blackness surrounded my feet and from it rose medium armour made from plain white bone. Murky tentacles seemed to cling to the mail, created from the bones of fish¡¯s heads; they lost their grip when the item fully solidified on this plane. I had a chest piece, made from goat''s vertebrae and one bone plate each on all of my four limbs. Adding to the strangely fishy theme I was given gloves made from scales, the little finger of my left hand flapping in the wind, I had lost it to a rabid snowdrop fox not long ago. Inspiration struck me and, taking the little nub of bone Orlando let me keep I screwed it into place on my left hand, ignoring the black blood which spurted forth. Using Necrotic Healing, I sealed the hole, this way I couldn¡¯t lose the piece and I could always have a secret weapon. Hearing the fighting intensify, I rushed into position. Half a dozen human shaped ash figures were piling on to one of my boys, trying to drag him down, the silence of the attack meant Orlando hadn''t noticed as the stone golem flailed about, trying to rip the creatures off it. I cast Glacius Solero; without the foci I had before, the spell still worked however. A condensed snow globe shot out from my right hand and struck the Rubble Rouser. I modified the spell on the fly and instead of encasing my guy in an icy prison it exploded into a chilling mist and shot out shards of permafrost in all directions. It was enough and the golem was able to turn the tide on its slowed opponents. Honestly his showing was impressive given the difference in level. Name: Rubble Rouser 3 Title: N/A Race: Earth Golem Class: Golem: Lv.23 Age: 14 hours Skills: 0 Spells: 0 Attributes: Strength: 55 Agility: 8 Charisma: 0 Perception: 6 Willpower: 0 Intelligence: 0 Wisdom: 0 ¡°Little warning next time,¡± Orlando shouted up at me, picking an ice sliver from the wall next to his neck. I had thought that perhaps his experience would have put him off fighting but there appeared to be joy in his voice. ¡°Sorry,¡± I called back. I had spent too long not paying attention to the weird frog creatures that grew when jumping and something wet hit me in the back, nearly sending me from the battlements. My armour was slowly being dissolved and the flesh was beginning to burn beneath but it was nothing my Necrotic Healing couldn¡¯t handle. Thankfully, I didn¡¯t have to worry about the poison part of the attack as I was inhabiting a zombie. ¡°You alright?¡± the Paladin called up, his focus on the never ending tide of opponents. ¡°Yep,¡± I shouted back, cursing myself for my narrow focus. There then proceeded a frantic battle of Orlando¡¯s sword and my spells. I flung out magic whenever I thought it could turn the fight to our side, Orlando didn¡¯t seem to be struggling but my creations often did. I maintained suppressing fire on the frogs all the while so that they wouldn¡¯t be able to rain death freely upon us. I forced them to take cover behind trees when they weren''t actively attacking, using workings of wind and flame. Orlando wasn¡¯t slowing, stamina wasn¡¯t really an issue, though I could tell if this went on too long mental fatigue may become a problem. I became a sprinkler of multicoloured magical death, stood upon my perch, and used the high ground to best advantage. The fighting grew ever more desperate as the number of Ba-Shh only increased and still, nothing from the north. Congratulation: We lost one of my elite core of golems at one point and, for some reason, I received experience. I didn¡¯t have any time to wonder why as the intensity of the fight only increased. I was left buzzing, flinching at every sound - ready to launch a Wind Blade - when a lull finally arrived. A ball of poisonous liquid whizzed past me, sizzling a line along my rudimentary Bone Armour as it did. Those giant frogs had been harassing the fort for too long. ¡°Die!¡± I cackled, hitting one of the cart sized monsters at the peak of its jump with Necrotising Bolt. It withered to a husk, no bigger than a regular treefrog. ¡°Incoming!¡± Orlando cried from his position in the marshalling yard, by the crack in the exterior wall. I looked over from my posting atop the wall just in time to see the impact; wobbling, my feet gave way under the tremors. The colossal bronze bull had made its move, busting the crumbling stone wide open and letting the ash creatures seep in. Orlando would be overwhelmed if he was left there with only the earth golems to aid him, but deserting the walls would give the jumping poison spitters free rain to pelt us from above. I clenched my teeth as I strained to think of a solution to the dilemma. How had I gotten into this mess? I didn¡¯t have time to think, the Paladin was engaged horn to sword with the great bronze beast and could no longer mince its minions. In short order my Rubble Rousers were overrun, swept away in a sea of ash. My teeth began to crack under the strain and, seemingly as one, the Ashriven turned their eyeless faces upon me. I had spent about half of my available mana up until this point and I would need every drop I had left. Orlando was sent flying across the yard by a flick of the bull¡¯s head, the Paladin maintained his footing as he slid clean through the wall without leaving so much as a scratch - he was still a poltergeist. The Brass monstrosity didn''t seem to care for anything but its target as it let out an enraged basso moo and scraped at the stone through which he had disappeared. Seconds later, Orlando plunged down from above, having jumped the obstacle and sunk his blade three feet into the things back, revealing a torrent of flame. The ash creatures didn¡¯t seem to care for the two and stayed clear of their fight, on the flip side that meant they were now wholly focused on me. They rushed with silent speed up the wooden staircase to the battlements. Wanting to maintain the high ground I set light to the path with Flame. This did cease their advance, sending them back to the bottom where they seethed like starving piranhas but it also appeared to empower three of the monsters who had been caught in the blaze. A metallic clang rang out from the two titan¡¯s conflict. With the buff I had inadvertently given them they began to glow with the amber of embers, now more powerful than the other Ba-Shh - who roiled at the base of the wall impatiently - they were able to jump directly onto the battlements; one behind and two in front. They all started running blindly toward me. I smiled as I ducked down. Maintaining my battlefield awareness I had detected the volley of incoming purple spit balls aimed at my position. One of the Ashriven was knocked clean off the wall and was swallowed whole by the pack beneath. The other two were doused slightly but still retained their radiance. Sparks flew in the corner of my eye, from the direction of the Paladin and the False Idol; Orlando was sent, once more, flying. I sliced one Ba-Shh apart with Wind Blade, cutting in two its marble like mana core. The other I spent a considerable amount of mana on freezing for later investigation with Glacius Solero. ¡°Agg,¡± I heard a manly voice cry. Looking down I saw Orlando grasping at something invisible attached to his shoulder. With my Life Sense I was able to see a squirming snake desperately holding on with its fangs. The horns caught the Paladin square in the chest and flung him into the pile of weapons that we had prepared, scattering them and my arm bones across the courtyard. The impact removed the slitterer¡¯s invisibility and I was able to use Identify just before it died: Name: Jane Title: Sneaky Bastard Race: Chamiseer Class: Corporealiser: Lv.14 Age: 3 Skills: 1 Spells: 1 Attributes: Strength: 3 Agility: 11 Charisma: 7 Perception: 22 Willpower: 13 Intelligence: 15 Wisdom: 21 Shit! I thought as I examined the two-headed, black serpent, with spiky crowns around each of its ends. My internal exclamation was proved warranted moments later when Bal plucked Orlando from the ground with his horn and sent him smashing into a wall. With the Corporealiser¡¯s venom in his system he was no longer able to become incorporeal. Orlando tried to roll to the side of a stomping claw (yes cows and bulls have claws), the hiss of pain he released was more visceral than any cry for help, and help was what he needed. I looked about for a solution, an idea came to me but was slightly evil - that had never stopped me before, why should it now? Using Bone Articulation I took control of my arm bones which littered the battlefloor. The great bull smiled in delight as it pushed harder down on the trapped Paladin. I hadn¡¯t seen its level but it would have to have quite some strength to keep that man down¡­ or it was just really heavy. My rearticulated hand, less its smallest bone, scurried through the rippling Ba-Shh who were thrashing against the wall on which I stood in frustration. I was able to snake my hand through and to Orlando¡¯s side without anyone noticing. Tapping him on the shoulder he snapped his head about, looking for a new threat. ¡°What the hell!¡± he gasped, losing most of the breath in his shrinking lungs. I used Possession to puppet my own hand, and now I was utilising one arm bone to listen to the vibrations of his voice and another to create sound myself. ¡°You need help, I¡¯m prepared to offer it,¡± I stated in lascivious tones, playing up the role. The voice I used was the one he would have heard me with in my boney form, un altered by my current body''s voice box. ¡°Osseus?¡± he choked in surprise, ¡°How?¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter, you need power and I¡¯m willing to offer it, now just say you accepted and we can get this magical contract over with.¡± He struggled to wheeze out a laugh as the bull twisted its hoof from left to right. ¡°You think I¡¯d fall for that rubbish again?¡± he spat, ¡°I will not be a pawn!¡± ¡°What¡¯s more important to you, your fate¡­ or that of another?¡± I asked, using my boney hand to point at my current vessel. I had him looking about as if in fear, atop the wall. Perfectly timed with my point he was struck in the back with a poison ball and sent flying into the tide of Ba-Shh, it was a calculated gamble and I hoped to escape with only minor damage. Orlando¡¯s eyes widened and his struggling doubled but to no avail, this only seemed to excite Bal, who¡¯s grin could curdle lemonade. ¡°Fine, fine you foul creature, I agree.¡± Orlando shouted, more panicked and desperate than I would have expected, I started to feel bad. Still, my current body was being torn apart so I activated the contract. Congratulations: As if in response to our deal, the storm that had been on the verge of breaking finally did so in spectacular fashion. With the Paladin being the perfect receptacle for foreign mana I didn¡¯t have to hold back and I immediately imbued him with my strongest System spell, Storm Cloak. The heavens roared and down from the clouds came a spike of purple, shooting straight into Orlando. His eyes raged with purple light and his armour and hair changed colour in sympathy. My new Paladin roared aloud and shoved up at the massive bronze bull which constrained him. He didn¡¯t just dislodge the beast but sent a bolt of lightning up through the creature, the width of his whole body. There was a moment of silence as the world seemed to hold its breath, then the inevitable thunder arrived. In a cacophonous boom Bal, champion of Maniae, was cleaved clean in two. Revealing the fire which burned within, and the as yet uncremated victims. Orlando wasted no time, tearing towards me, vaporising the Ba-Shh with his mere presence. He knelt over my curled up form, chunks of my flesh missing, and laid a hand gently on my bare shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s okay, everything will be fine,¡± he soothed. Taking advantage of the moment I channelled Necrotising Healing through the man so he could watch as skin regrew at his touch. Sparking tears welled in his lightning eyes and dropped to the floor, sizzling in the newly forming puddles of rain. Chapter 19: Lord of Bones IV Chapter 19: Lord of Bones IV My body had been badly damaged by the swarm of Ba-Shh, hand sized clumps had been violently torn from me, leaving a mess of blackened blood; I was grateful that I didn¡¯t feel pain. My Necrotic Healing, channelled through Orlando, was quite effective - he had a much higher capacity for mana than my present vessel and, being a Paladin, he was a purposely designed receptacle for other¡¯s Power. Orlando was crying and trying to sooth what he thought to be an injured boy, gifted in the art of ritual magic. The darkness, constant rain, and his tears may have hidden the truth from him. The blackness of my blood, the coldness of my body, all the clues he required were laid out before him and thinking about it from his perspective my Detection skill went crazy. I shivered as I turned around from my curled position on the ground to see the Paladin; I was momentarily startled. His body was alight with lightning, dancing along his limbs and out of his eyes. His electrical tears still fell, and I was beginning to believe there was something more behind them, gods only knew what he had been through. 12 head sized globules of purple liquid appeared above us, arching down. ¡°Look out!¡± I called, covering my face, but there was no need. Orlando turned his attention to the incoming attack and it was evaporated by his lightning. He looked about to tear off after the Gribbiting Roppaters but I held him back with a hand on his arm. ¡°Help them,¡± I insisted, pointing to the dozen or so people who had been inside the now bisected giant bronze bull, and had not yet been burned into Ba-Shh. Speaking off the Ashriven, now that their master was dead they had fled, disappearing like smoke into the trees as did the other two headed snakes who had maintained their invisibility. The people of all races Orlando had unintentionally saved were mostly unconscious but some were beginning to come to - none were in good shape. Orlando looked torn so I decided to push him. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with the frogs,¡± I said, pulling myself up from the ground. ¡°Fine,¡± he relented, still on one knee, ¡°but be careful.¡± I simply smiled and winked. My boney hand, which I had been controlling with a mix of Bone Articulation and Possession, scurried across the now cleared courtyard and hopped up onto the Paladin¡¯s sparking shoulder - the protections I had given my skeleton defended it from the lightning which cloaked the man. Orlando let off a high pitched shriek, ¡°Spider!¡± and smacked the thing sending bones in all directions. Once my hand was once more rearticulated he apologised reluctantly and began tending to the newcomers. I was left questioning whether the reaction was genuine, as, when I stifled a laugh, I could see a glimmer in his eye. I set off at a sprint out of the crack, which Bal¡¯s charge had widened to 7 feet across. Through the pouring rain it would have been difficult for my normal sight alone to find the poison spitters but with Life Sense it was easy. They had been jumping up and down, hiding behind trees, and generally being a nuisance for too long. More balls of poison came raining down on me but I didn¡¯t care. I could see them far better than they could me and their hit rates reflected that. There proceeded a game, Splat the Frog, as I jumped out from behind oaks and popped them with Wind Blades at point blank range. The ease with which I dispatched the creatures made me regret not rushing them sooner. The last of them I didn¡¯t kill, instead I caught it while it was on the ground, giving me a perfect pet, provided I restrained it from jumping and expanding to the size of a wagon. It squirmed in my grip as I walked back towards the fort, the rain having subsided but the winds as strong as ever. I also took a few Gribbiting Roppater¡¯s corpses for research, they were easy to carry as, when they were dead, they shrank back to the size of a regular tree frog. When I returned to the fort, I was surprised by what I saw. The dozen or so survivors from inside the shattered bronze monolith were mostly up on their feet, surrounding the bonfire we had constructed to see at night. I had thought that perhaps they wouldn¡¯t want to be so close to flame given their recent experiences. Orlando was laughing, cajoling one particularly sturdy looking dwarf, and playing the part of the valiant hero, which suited him so well - the guise was almost perfect, although I could still make out some fragility behind his eyes. None of them seemed to pay any mind to the skeletal hand, still perched on the Paladin¡¯s shoulder. I walked up to the group as they tried their best to stay warm in the cold and windy night. ¡°Monster!¡± a beastkin with the head of a chicken baulked when she saw my shambling, blood-covered form in the flickering firelight. I checked behind me, not realising how bad I was. The others in the group all reacted differently, many looked about to bolt, but some - like the dwarf engaged in conversation with Olando - were ready to jump me. ¡°Wait,¡± the Paladin called with a smile, stopping both groups from acting. ¡°He¡¯s with me, if it weren¡¯t for him you wouldn¡¯t be out of that infernal creature.¡± Given it he didn¡¯t know quite how true those words were. It seemed rather generous, but his charisma calmed the crowd so I wasn''t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I finished my approach and was welcomed into the fireside fold. The woman who had called me a monster was rather apologetic when she learned the truth and tried to wrap me in her shawl. I refused but when she laid a feathered hand upon my bare skin she insisted, claiming I felt as cold as death. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°What¡¯s happened?¡± I asked Orlando, taking a seat beside the man, all of us sat on stones that used to be a part of the wall. ¡°Exactly what I¡¯ve been wanting to know,¡± the dwarf concurred, slapping me on the shoulder and nearly sending me tumbling into the fire. He didn¡¯t even seem to notice but Orlando did and tried to catch me before I stopped myself. The dwarf had long black hair with streaks of grey and a beard that was bradided into various decorative knots, ornamented with beads. He spoke in an accent that was both smooth and melodic yet reminded me of a country bumpkin. ¡°Last thing I remember I was on holiday, prospecting in the Wilds, when out of nowhere came a great big bronze bull. At first I thought, I thought that¡¯s some high quality metal that is, and I was after copping it - maybe just a wee bit mind as the fellah looked a mite fierce - anyhow, I was standing there, walking towards him with pick in hand, and next thing I know the lovely summer''s day has been replaced by a stormy night and I¡¯m surrounded by a bunch of longlegs,¡± the dwarf complained, but I could tell he was somewhat excited by the turn of events. Most of the others were not. ¡°Hear hear!¡± a man wearing a grey wig shouted, sparking a chorus of similar stories told simultaneously. It was difficult to make out much but from what I could gather: the chicken lady had been in a kingdom to the east of The Eastern Wilds and was out gathering Jute, then, was here - without a second inbetween, a gnome was testing his latest invention when he was snatched, and one elderly woman still didn¡¯t seem to know where she was. Interestingly a trio of hooded youths who looked quite nervous didn¡¯t have anything to say. ¡°Calm down, calm down,¡± Orlando encouraged, standing and making a lowering gesture with his arms. ¡°We can discuss this later, I think the first order of business should be getting a meal. This was met with agreement all round and seconds later Orlando leaped into the air, Storm Cloak still wrapped around him - it was likely what had obscured the view of our refugees, preventing them from seeing the translucent figure of the man which marked him as a poltergeist. I then proceeded to engage in small talk with the survivors and learned more about them. At one point I heard a question vibrating through my radial bone which was still affixed to the Paladin. ¡°Why?¡± he asked in a very flat voice, much removed from the comforting and commanding tone he had used around the others. I was in the middle of talking to the forthright dwarf about coastal erosion, he had likened it to rust and we were having a spirited debate about its usefulness in the greater ecosystem when the message came through. I begged a reprieve, claiming I needed to take a leak before I could concentrate on my Possession of the boney appendage. ¡°Why what?¡± I responded by vibrating the other of my two forearm bones. ¡°Why give me so much power, half of that would have been more than enough. Was it a statement, what could you want from me that is worth such an investment of mana?¡± I considered telling the truth, that I was in Possession of another body, but at this point that didn¡¯t seem wise. Orlando''s cold and calculating voice gave me pause. ¡°You are in Fort Far-Reach?¡± I asked. ¡°How do you know that? Can you see through that thing?¡± he asked and I felt a finger flick my hand. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern,¡± I replied evasively, ¡°I hold lordship over that domain and I¡¯d like for you to rebuild it. I remember hearing you grew up there so I can¡¯t imagine you¡¯d object.¡± There was a moment of silence and I had no idea how he reacted, there was then the sound of a startled deer which was swiftly cut off. ¡°That can¡¯t be it! I have bound myself to you, I am now your paladin Osseus - I would have expected you to ask me to put you back together then serve at your side.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I responded, baffled. ¡°Experience,¡± Orlando replied grimly. ¡°I took you as a man of your word and if you said that I couldn¡¯t be released until a jury could be assembled to try me for my mistake¨C¡± ¡°Mistake!¡± he started in disbelief. ¡°Miscalculation, whatever you¡¯d call it. The point is I won¡¯t make you break your word. besides, I¡¯m doing alright, as you can see,¡± I relayed, waving my severed hand. ¡°That ship has sailed,¡± he mumbled darkly before raising his voice, ¡°fine, I am in your service now so I can¡¯t really complain whatever you say. There is another matter, don¡¯t address me as Orlando. After what I did¡­ suffice to say if the people I¡¯m with knew who I was they may not feel safe.¡± I took a moment to ponder his words. ¡°What should I call you then?¡± I asked. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter, just not Orlando,¡± he responded. ¡°Alright Sargent Fluffykins it is,¡± I replied, trying to inject some humour. ¡°What, not a chance,¡± he rebutted, his pride not allowing such insult. ¡°Then give me a name,¡± I shot back, slightly annoyed that he hadn''t taken to the title. There was a moment¡¯s pause. ¡°Call me Rowland, it was my father¡¯s name and should suffice.¡± ¡°Rowland,¡± I said, testing the name by rolling it up and down my arm bone. ¡°Oh, one thing before I forget,¡± I said, ending the Storm Cloak spell, ¡°I¡¯ll need to cast an illusion on you so you don¡¯t look quite so dead.¡± I heard a thud somewhere out in the darkened forest and saw a tree fall. There wasn¡¯t an answer for a good long while before a groan came down the connection. ¡°Warn me if you''re going to do that!¡± Orlando (Rowland) complained with a nasal voice, ¡°I was using the lightning to see,¡± he elaborated at my noise of confusion. ¡°...Ah.. sorry¡­¡± I apologised, ¡°This might help,¡± I added, casting Illusionary Skin through the Paladin. ¡°Thanks,¡± he replied sarcastically, and I was forced to stifle a laugh. Several moments later Orlando, now Rowland, returned, falling from the sky with several deer slung over his shoulders. My spell had made him look flesh and blood but that wasn¡¯t all it did; multicoloured balls of glowing light were affixed randomly about his person. ¡°What¡¯s with the light show?¡± the dwarf asked with a chuckle as the others seemed excited about the idea of meat. ¡°I think Rowland looks pretty,¡± I added, trying to stoke his pride. He didn¡¯t seem to see the humour in it, his face hard and stoney. ¡°Rowland?¡± he asked and the reason for his mood became evident. Chapter 20: Lord of Bones V Chapter 20: Lord of Bones V Orlando''s face was icy as he moved towards me with slow steps, he let the deer piled atop him fall to the wayside but the tension was so great that no one dared to pick up the meat they were clearly in need of. I backed up, waving my hands defensively. ¡°Is that not your name,¡± I tried, feigning ignorance. As his slow march did not abate I hit my head as if a realisation struck me. ¡°Ah, no that was your father¡¯s name - sorry like I said I¡¯m a student of history. Sometimes I get the names mixed up.¡± I said, scrambling for an excuse, if whatever this was came to blows I wouldn¡¯t stand a chance. I could flood the magical connection we had formed, that of servant and master, with mental mana and control him the same as Maniae had - but no. My back flattened against the rough stone wall, crumbling against my skin, particles of rack tumbling down my back in place of sweat. Perhaps I would have to, it would be so easy - no, I shouldn¡¯t¡­ why not? He had been through enough. How is that my problem? It¡¯s not. It¡¯s not? That¡¯s wrong. Why? How would I feel if I were in his position? But you¡¯re not, and besides, when have we ever cared for others? I won¡¯t do it. What about Soul Manipulation, we¡¯ve been dying to discover just what ghost buddies dose. We? We? ¡°Osseus?¡± Orlando asked, as if wanting me to pass the salt. His nose was less than an inch from our forehead. When did he get so close? This isn¡¯t safe. We should kill him. ¡°Yes?¡± I replied reflexively, my mind so muddled that I couldn¡¯t think to lie. Orland slammed the wall next to my head, blowing a hole clean through. An action that may have been due to anger, if not for the coldness that remained in his blue eyes - still sparking with the faint remnants of purple lightning. The crowd was frozen. Kill him, or at the very least take him under your control. He is dangerous! ¡°You lied to me.¡± Orlando stated calmly. Something sizzled, and out of the corners of our eyes we could see that the irreverent dwarf was ignoring the scene and had begun to cook a leg of meat. ¡°Ahh¡± we shouted incoherently, my heads splitting in pain. Spittle flecked the mans face but he didn¡¯t flinch, he won¡¯t give us space - KILL HIM - he simply looked long and hard into the eyes. KILL HIM ¡°Kill it, him was do¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡± I said starting with a shout but trailing off into a whisper as I doubled over in pain. Darkness embraced me to the applauding sounds of shocked gasps. ??? Before there was anything, there was nothing. The first light was born, she thought to burn forever. She is dark in death. Death is patient. Light brought new life: What is life but death to be? Animal¡¯s fought to have the best of life, Few came out on top. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. All died. Death is equal. Mortals grew from the best, Races of all sorts. They discovered magic, The strongest of them grew no older. They thought they could not die. Death was stumped. Mortals created war, Balance was restored. Death is inevitable. The strongest of the magic mortals died, A knife to the back, And death was pleased. A Lich rose from death to walk once more. Death was confused. This new undead did not die, The lich was stabbed, The lich was burned, The lich was drowned, But still the soul of the strongest mage lived. Death was angry. Mortals do not live long, And death is patient. Death saw the lich die over and again, But, Death is not suffered lightly. Death changed the soul that could not die. The lich started to claim souls for death, It would not stop. Death is maddening. The strongest mage was smart, None had killed the immortal soul, But the Lich knew how. A plan was set in motion, And the soul that could not die brought about its own death. Death always wins. ??? I awoke in the dark to screaming. Metal rang on stone and ceramic shattered. I got up with a start, or tried to, I was pinned to my bed by my chest. Flailing my arms, I strained to untangle myself from the covers. Except... there were covers, there was a bed! A new wave of pain rocked me, radiating out from the mushed remains of my head. I felt both light and airy, detached from reality, and periodically crushed back down into it by pain. Where am I?....No¡­.Who was screaming? I looked around, finding myself in the ruined master bedroom. To my left, a hole looking out across an endless wind bent the forest. To my right, a beastwoman I didn¡¯t recognise, standing - frozen in shock - looking at me like I was a ghost. At her feet, the remains of a tea set. No¡­wait¡­I did recognise her. She was the chicken beastkin that had lent me her shawl. I thought. My memory of the night before was hazy. Why is she screaming? ¡°Why are you screaming?¡± I asked without inflection, my voice hoarse for some reason. The woman was able to shut her beak but opening it again seemed beyond her, she simply pointed at me; her black eyes wide with fear. Not understanding, I looked down at myself. There was a knife sticking out of my chest, straight through my heart. My blood ran as cold as the headmistress of a convent school. That knife. I wrapped a hand around the hilt, pulling it free with a squelch, black blood staining the already rotting and moth ridden blankets. A whimper came from the lady by the door and there followed a meaty thump upon the stone floor but I did not look over. My attention was transfixed by the weapon. The intricate enchantment, designed to get through my own take on a personal ward, a ward that I had not the materials to construct nor had I ever made in this world. The profile, so stuck within my mind that if I were to close my eyes to sleep it¡¯s shape would be there. My vision blurred as the events that succeeded my death replayed themselves. When I returned to the room there was nothing in my hand. I found no wound in my chest as I frantically searched. I got up with a start, desperately forcing my thoughts to stay in their nice neat order and not float off on their own. I didn¡¯t know what to do, I was panicking. Am I going mad? I thought. Was this what the dragon had warned me of with her final words, or was this because of the souls I had consumed in a fit of induced rage? How could I even begin to know what was happening? Words rang through the chaos like a bell: ¡°When you don¡¯t know what to do, do what you can,¡± it was my master''s voice though I didn¡¯t know from when it came. I looked about. On the floor, just inside the door was the bird lady¡¯s fainted body. I moved to her side seeking to help her. Although the tea pot had cracked enough remained to contain a good mouthful of the divine liquid. I took, from the fallen tray, a mug that hadn¡¯t shattered and poured the last of the brown fluid into it, ensuring there were no fragments of ceramic. When the beastwoman began to stir seconds later I offered her the drink. ¡°Oh, thank you dear,¡± she said in a kind and motherly cluck, ¡°I have no idea what came over me. I just got to the top of the stairs and fainted, I¡¯m embarrassed to be so out of shape.¡± ¡°But the knife¡­ you saw it¡­ you were screaming.¡± I insisted not even sure myself. If I couldn¡¯t trust my own mind, what could I trust? ¡°You must still be unwell,¡± she said, rising to her spurs and laying a feathered hand upon my brow. ¡°Great eggs, you''re as cold as death. Get back in bed, that gnome used some device to block the wind from entering the ruins before he left so you¡¯ll be perfectly warm. And here, I think you need this tea more than me.¡± she ended, pressing the mug into my hand. Dizzily I complied. I hadn¡¯t even noticed the magical windbreak which surrounded the building, I had even taken note of the trees bowing in the gailing aftermath of last night¡¯s storm. Wait, how long have I been out? ¡°The gnome left? How long was I unconscious?¡± I asked, unable to hide the concerne from my voice. The kind woman took the time to tuck my childlike physique into bed, ensuring the out of date sheets were tight before answering. ¡°You only slept the night, after that fit overtook you. Rowland left with the others, trying to get them back to their homes.¡± ¡°But you''re still here?¡± I asked, confused. ¡°I couldn¡¯t leave you in that state, as much as Rowland seemed willing to; not that he would give me a reason mind. Besides, there''s nothing back home for me.¡± She must have interpreted my look as one of pity as she continued, ¡°I¡¯m not here alone, Fettler, the dwarf, stayed behind, something about good stone. Rowland said he¡¯d be back when he¡¯s situated the survivors, I do hope he¡¯s got his act together. Honestly leaving a child in that state, it¡¯s hard to see how the others treat him as a hero.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not his fault,¡± I tried to explain, the room spinning around me. She wasn¡¯t having any of it however. ¡°Get some rest, that will make you feel better,¡± she reassured. The last words I heard before drifting fitfully into restless slumber. Status 7.0
Status 7.0
Name: Osseus ?
Titles: Archmagus(ish), Savant II, Soul Devouer, [LF-RF]: ¨‹
Archmagus(ish): Unique With the knowledge and experience one hundred times that of a common mage, and the power to match, one is granted the Title of Archmagus. Lacking experience in this world''s magic and with power still to be tested one (and only one) is granted the title Archmagus(ish). This Title grants: | 20 10 Intelligence | 20 10 Willpower | 20 10 Wisdom |
Spell Slinger: Common Able to use the most basic of proficiency, a Spell Slinger may be a novice mage or spell sword. This Title grants: | 2 Intelligence | 1 Willpower |
Savant I : Uncommon Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to a promising start. This Title grants: | +10% experience gain in Lich Class |
Savant II : Rare Naturally gifted in your chosen class¡¯s Skills/Spells you got off to an exceptional start. This Title grants: | +15% experience gain in Lich Class |
Detective: Rare Able to solve mysteries and bring ne''er-do-wells to justice. This title was awarded for completing the Quest: Murder at the vicarage. This title grants: | +10 perception I Ability to work on any murder case in the kingdom |
Soul Devourer: Epic Consuming the stuff of souls comes with both rewards and punishments | +20 inteligence I People who do not know you act negatively towards you |
Lord of Far-Reach Fort: Knight [locked] This is a lord title and grants the owner access to the settlement system. If owned this title is automatically selected but takes no title slots. This title grants: | access to the settlement system at Knight rank |
You currently have 3 Title slot(s) available
Race: Skeleton: ¨‹
Human Humans are one of the most prolific breeders in all the land. They come in a wide variety of colours and creeds and are able to take nearly any class and profession but have no innate talents for any. They are a short lived species of average height, not able to live more than a century without magical aid. Humans gain: | +10% Xp |
Zombie Zombies are the most common form of undead and can be made from most of the living races. They are known for their lacking intelligence and undying strength and tenacity. Zombies gain. | +10 Strength | -10 Intelligence | -5 Agility I Ravenous (N/A due to Possesion skill) |
Skeleton Skeletons are an advanced form of undead, usually evolved from zombies. They typically have slightly more intelligence and agility and are harder to kill. Skeletons gain: | + 3 agility | -1 strength | Life Sense | Bone Claws | Bone Articulation |
Changing Race is incredibly uncommon and only usually happens as the result of a drastic physical change or magical mishap.
Class: Lich ¨‹
Lich: Rare Lv.25 (Capped untill subclass is chosen) The Lich class has three requirements: 1. A Lich must have had a magic based class in life. 2. A Lich must be Undead. 3. A Lich¡¯s soul must have been detached from their body and attached to an item (this item can be the aforementioned body but it can also be changed). if the Lich class is available it is taken automatically. If all class slots are full it will replace your lowest Lv. class. Lich¡¯s use magic as their main form of attack, focusing on the death, poison, or elemental schools.
Subclass locked until body is regained.
Age: 1208 ?
Profession(s): None ¨‹
No professions are currently available. Demonstrate aptitude in a given field to unlock a profession or apprentice under a Master. Three Profession slots are open.
Skills: SP - 7 ¨‹
Active Skills:
Life Sense: Lv.11 The undead have a natural hatred for all life, without being able to sense the living, how might their hunger be sated? At higher level Undead can leverage their increasing intelligence to perceive life even in the smallest of organisms creating a facsimile of sight. Levelling up this skill increases the range and resolution of life sense. 1st Minor Evolution: visuale dependance: You have mostly used this Skill for seeing and thus it has improved in that regard. You can now see further and with greater clarity.
Bone Claws: Lv.7 Skeletons lack the muscles of a zombie making their attacks weaker but their bodies are far faster making slashing and piercing weapons an ideal choice. A skeleton''s digits grow sharper and longer at will and do bonus damage to living flesh. Levelling up this skill grants the ability to grow longer, sharper, and stronger claws.
Bone Articulation: Lv.12 A skeleton¡¯s bones are held together with magic but worry not as this natural skill allows a skeleton''s bones to reform if they are ever scattered, so long as the head is not shattered. Levelling up this skill increases the strength of the bond between bones and decreases the time taken to rearticulate. 1st Minor Evolution: bone sense: Gain the ability to sense the direction of your bones at great distance.
Identify: Lv.7 Users can Identify the level, up to ten levels above themselves. At higher levels one can learn the target''s highest levelled class, profession, title, even approximate health and stamina.
Conceal: Lv.5 Hide from others Identify type skills and spells. Doesn''t work if the other party''s skill is considerably higher level.
Detection: Lv.3 When concentrating, users can notice things others might miss. You also gain an innate sense when things don''t quite add up. At higher levels the missing pieces are easier to spot and may even glow to your vision.
Astral Projection: Lv.3 Detach your soul from your body at will. This skill can be used to traverse the astral, hence its names. Be warned - creatures in the astral are often dangerous and attack the soul directly, they are also usually uncomprehendable to mortals. If your soul is destroyed you cannot be reincarnated.
Possession: Lv.6 With the power of one¡¯s soul alone you can take over a vacated body. Once higher skill levels are reached one can temporarily possess the living.
Passive skills:
Magically reinforced bones: Through a variety of ritual magic spells, magical imbuement, enchantment, and baptism in the abyss your bones have been strengthened to the point that only the highest level of physical or magical attack stands a chance of damaging them. Be warned this does not increase the strength of your bones'' connections.
Water Resistance: Lv.3 Chosen as the Lv.10 Lich class ability. This ability grants a resistance to water based attacks. Additionally movement is less impeded by water/rain. Level is increased by resisting water.
Soul Manipulation: Lv.11 Chosen as the Lv.20 Lich class ability. This ability grants the user the means to see souls and manipulate them in a rudimentary fashion at higher levels a practitioner of soul manipulation might rip the soul out of one adversary, bend it to their will, then send it after another. This skill increases with use. Be warned, manipulating souls can have irreversible side effects. It is advised not to use this on yourself or friends until it reaches Lv.25. 1st Minor Evolution: ghost raiser ghost buddies: when using soul manipulation on the souls of ghosts it is much easier to make them look favourably upon you without causing unintentional effects.
Learn new skills through practice or by spending SP. Practice or SP can also be used to increase Skill levels.
Purchaseable Skills: 473,211¨‹ - 7 SP
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--- Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Supertonic: 1 SP Always able to sing the second degree of a scale if the first is heard but unable to sing the other degrees of the scale.
SuperUser: 100 90 80 SP Grants one minor administrative abilities.
Supervise: 4 SP The perfect Skill for a foreman or boss. Under the Supervision of this Skill efficiency is increased - starting at 50% and increasing by 1% each level until levels 10, 25, 50, 75... where larger jumps are made.
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Spells: ¨‹
Class Spells:
Necrotising Bolt: Basic Lv.10 (max) Folding your mana over itself, spinning it into a vortex and focusing it into a point one can create a projectile of necrotising energy that rapidly decays whatever it hits. The strength and range of this spell is increased with level and with use.
Bone Armour: Intermediate Lv.20 (max) Lv.15 Class Spell. This Spell summons bones from the netherworld to serve as armour. The higher one''s level the thicker or stronger the armour is, depending on caster.
Death''s Touch: Advanced Lv.10 Lv.25 Class Spell. This Spell kills anything that does not resist with but a touch. Increasing the level decreases the mana consumption and increases the level of target that the spell works on.
Learned Spells:
Wind Breath: Basic Lv.6 Melding one''s mana with the air round them allows one to create small gusts of wind. Suitable for moving small objects. The strength and accuracy of the spell is increased with each level.
Sunscreen: Basic Lv.5 By constraining darkness manna into a ball and letting it seep out around one, one can block the sun¡¯s effects temporarily. The higher the level of this spell the less mana required, the longer the effect, and the stronger the effect.
Minor Finesse: Basic Lv.8 This spell temporarily boosts coordination and alacrity of movement by moving small amounts of mana around one¡¯s nervous system.
Preserve Meat: Basic Lv.4 By enveloping meat in a small amount of time mana one can slower or even prevent time¡¯s effects; at least for a short time.
Flame: Basic Lv.5 By igniting one¡¯s mana after focusing it to a point they can create a stream of fire. This is the basic spell all fire mages should learn, although it is the weakest it is the most versatile.
Curse Detector: Basic Lv.5 A simple spell made with simple components. Curses are common through every land so it can be advantageous to see them coming.
Lesser Sleep: Basic Lv.3 I''m feeling tired, I think I might take a nap.
Wind Blade: Intermediate Lv.6 Sharpening the air with one''s mana onc can create a blade from nothing but wind. Properly used this can even cut through steel.
Rock Throw: Intermediate Lv.2 Pulling from the earth one can shape a projectile from rock. This is a simple attack spell for earth mages and is very versatile.
Magma Lob: Intermediate Lv.3 A super heated version of Rock Throw this spell does what it says on the tin, perfect for when things are heating up.
Flame Ward: Intermediate Lv.2 Unlike other warding spells the Flame Ward spell does not protect one from fire but with it. Fire magic is a most aggressive school of magic, those with the affinity often feel the best form of defence is a good offence - failing that, cover everything in fire.
Necrotic Healing: Intermediate Lv.4 Normal healing spells work with the living body to recover as best possible, substituting what is not fixable with life mana to create new parts. Even the most simple of necrotic healing spells have to rely more on the latter as the former is impossible for the undead body to achieve, making death mana based healing more mana intensive and more complex.
Shocking Aura: Advanced Lv.3 Pulsing one''s mana in and out of their skin rapidly creates an electrical aura. The power and radius of the aura are increased with level.
Glacius Solero: Advanced Lv.4 Do you like Ice? Do you need to freeze a Warrior? Do you like sorbet? Do you like affordable french hatchbacks? Great news! The Glacius Solero is for you. Anyway...
Necrotising Aura: Advanced Lv.4 Withers everything in an area about the caster. This spell is more mana intensive than Necrotising Bolt but covers a larger area, perfect if one finds oneself trapped in the belly of a beast.
Scrying: Advanced Lv.1 One of the few spells only available to someone with the specific requirements for divination. This is a very versatile spell, allowing one to see things - within a certain range - from a bird''s point of view. Range, detail, and accuracy increase with level.
Illusionary Skin: Expert Lv.9 Pulsing one''s mana gently and continuously around one''s skin (or bones) creates an illusionary skin atop the original. The complexity of this spell allows for one to change: skin colour, hair pigmentation, eye colour, and scars/tattoos so long as they are only skin deep. This is a channelling type spell and requires a constant flow of mana to function.
Earth Golem: Expert Lv.7 Shape the earth to your will, then give it one of its own. This spell has two parts, first one can shape the earth into whatever form they prefer, then one can breathe life into their creation. Higher levels of this spell lower the mana cost and increase the amount of mass which can be animated.
Wind Domain: Master Lv.1 A master ranked spell that puts all the wind within one''s domain under one''s command. This spell is tricky to use because the air in the area of effect becomes part of the caster for the duration of the spell. However when mastered one becomes effectively the only wind mage within their domain.
Storm Cloak: Unique Become the storm.
Attributes: AP - 0 ¨‹
Strength: 21 (+10) Strength determines how hard one hits, and how much force one can exert and how much one can carry. 10 is the average of a strong adult.
Agility: 3 (-5) Agility determines speed and flexibility. The higher one''s agility the harder they are to detect while sneaking. 10 agility is the average of an agile adult.
Charisma: -10 (Undead) Charisma determines your persuasiveness and charm. Those with higher charisma will often get better prices and be able to talk themselves out of trouble. 10 is the average for a well spoken noble or merchant. (Charisma and its effects are inverted among the undead.)
Perception: 11 Perception affects reaction speeds and timing. Someone with high perception will be able to see events further away and sooner than others. 10 is the average for a keen eyed individual.
Willpower: 50 (+1) Willpower affects mental resistance. Those with high willpower are able to go longer without food or sleep and have a higher resistance to spell effects, especially mind altering effects. 10 is the average for a stubborn person.
Intelligence: 99 +++ (-10) Intelligence determines one''s magical ability. Someone with high intelligence will be able to produce and control more mana. 10 is the average for a bookworm.
Wisdom: 30 Wisdom determines how well one can leverage their knowledge and experience. One with high wisdom will regenerate their mana faster. 10 is the average of an experienced individual.
Settlement System
Far-Reach Fort: Fife
Sustenance: 0 ¨‹ Resources: 0 ¨‹ Population: 0 ¨‹ Power: 0 ¨‹
Water: 0 ? Wood: 0 ? Labourers: 0 ? Money: 0 ?
Food: 0 ? Stone: 0 ? Craftsmen: 0 ? Reputation: 0 ?
Herbs and Spices: 0 ? Metal: 0 ? Fighters: 1 ? Trade: 0 ?
Buildings: 5 ¨‹
Hunter¡¯s Shack: Lv.1¨‹
A single person dwelling that can be built in dense forests, poorly camouflaged to avoid the wildlife''s attention. This tiny structure allows for rudimentary butchering and skinning. The utilities are very basic and may frustrate an experienced Hunter if they are forced to use them for too long. This building can be upgraded to include nicer facilities, increase hunting efficiency, and increase the number of hunters that can use it at a time. +3 Meat/Month Requires a Hunter: 0/1
Lumber Camp: Lv.1¨‹
A simple collection of tents where freemen and serfs, under the direction of a Foreman, come together to prepare lumber. This structure only supports 5 labourers and 1 Foreman at full capacity. The tents are made from old canvas and the beds scratchy straw, not the sort of place one would choose to work at for long. This building must be placed in or near a forest and is better placed near a source of water. This building can be upgraded to include permanent cabins for: processing lumber into planks, drying logs, Foreman¡¯s accommodation, workers bunkhouse, ect. +28 Wood/Month Requires a Foreman: 0/1
Woodworker¡¯s Shed: Lv.1¨‹
A rudimentary structure, though well made. This building puts a roof over, at most, three Woodworkers, allowing them to create things from wood, outside the effects of the elements. This structure is small and does not have enough storage for an experienced Carpenter¡¯s tools but woodwork for other simple buildings can be done here. This building can be upgraded to include: wood storage, tool storage, apprentice¡¯s haystack, head Woodworker¡¯s bed, ect. +150% Speed of Construction Requires a Woodworker: 0/1
Farmer¡¯s Steadings: Lv.1¨‹
A basic campus, including a stable, pen, grain-shed, and farmhouse. These structures are only large enough to contain: 1 beast of burden, 3 livestock, 21 bushels of grain, and 1 Farmer + family or 10 serfs + driving Farmer. These facilities may be sufficient when starting a community but will be outgrown when farmland exceeds 3 acres. These buildings can be upgraded to include: large stables, sheds, slaughter houses, ect. +210 Grain/Month Requires a Farmer: 0/1
Village Hall: Lv.1¨‹
An elementary structure made from stone, with a thatched roof, and three or four times the size of a regular house. The Village Hall can be used for any number of things from housing settlers while residencies are being constructed: housing shows, boozing, teaching children or just keeping them out of the way, and sessions of prayer to any god (be warned, excessive prayer to a single deity may, overtime, be enough to constitute holy ground for that god, then their own rules will apply). The main function of the Village Hall is to organise town meetings and discuss the orders of the day/week/month/year. The structure is slightly too small to comfortably be used for any of the above actions. This building can be upgraded to include: a bar, pews, desks, a flag, ect. Once the Town Hall is built this building may be changed to better suit whichever role it fills. +10 Morale Requires a Administrator: 0/1
Chapter 21: Necropolis I Chapter 21: Necropolis I ¡°Ahhhhrrrr¡± the demon screamed, gritting its teeth; goat eyes rolling about wildly. ¡°Enough, enough already. No more!¡± it protested as I sacrificed another salubrious Aqua Anguis to the spell, increasing the strength of a jet of flame aimed at the restrained hellian¡¯s abdomen. The screaming and protestations increased in volume but I ignored them, noting frantically, quill scratching across parchment: ¡­The optimum temperature for a flame to penetrate the hide of a Phometitie appears to be 6.5 scalders. I looked up, my ears plugged and unable to hear the evil creatures whining. Correction, somewhere between 6 and 6.5. The former only elicits a reddening of the skin and the beginning of blisters, the latter appears to burn through the outer layers and begins to damage the internals. Should try using twelve sea snakes and one water snail to create the flame spell next time¡­ I went on, scribbling down every observation I had in regards to my present experiment. My current consciousness was watching the scene from above, a dream. Despite the blocking of my past self¡¯s ears, I could somehow hear every word the creature implored me with, perhaps I always could but chose to ignore them. The claims of a family, a biological impossibility for the denizens of that most lowest plane - I knew, I had tested. The threats that his direct superior would come here and smite me, they never would; weakness was not forgiven among the ranks of demons. The worst were the entreaties to my humanity, which, at the time, I still possessed - in theory. In the moment I was overcome by a lust for knowledge, ravenously testing and recording. It was a state I seemed to find myself in less often these days, then again, I hadn¡¯t yet had the opportunity. Looking at the scene without that mental shield was slightly sickening. ¡°We never used to care so much. The only thing that really matters is knowledge,¡± a voice, similar to my own yet more sinister, echoed around the dark void which surrounded the bubble of memory. ¡°That isn¡¯t true, it was just a mental state, we¡­ I wasn¡¯t like that all the time!¡± I refuted, calling back to the unknown entity. It didn¡¯t respond. I tried to move, to do anything, but I was stuck - watching the past play out. A young lad, of about fourteen or fifteen, entered the wetroom. Seeing the demon¡¯s guts flop out onto the floor, he threw up in one of my offal pots. His features were blurred in the remembering. ¡°Get me the petrovenator,¡± I ordered, one hand outstretched. I didn¡¯t even so much as look at the apprentice as I picked up what looked like a kidney with the other. I tested its conductivity with a variety of mana types, finding that it may be of some use in healing spells and filtration systems. I snapped the fingers of my extended hand as I moved onto other tests, poking and prodding with the bare skinned appendage, unable to shift my focus from the object of my hunched fascination. A heavy implement slammed against my waiting hand before the lad spoke up, ¡°I¡¯m leaving, I can¡¯t deal with this anymore.¡± ¡°Hmm,¡± I replied, not able - not willing - to hear. The hazy silhouette threw up his hands and stomped away. Was I truly so dreadful? I wondered, feeling bad for my past actions. I couldn''t even remember the boy¡¯s appearance. He was one in a long line of apprentices I took on, more as a set of spare hands than anything. I failed in my obligation to them, never teaching them anything. Never hearing their questions, I was so wrapped up in my own work. If my master would have seen the way I treated them¡­ ¡°Why do you feel so bad? This is what we were supposed to be. There is nothing greater than knowledge, nothing should stand in the way of our attaining it,¡± the voice boomed, rising in energy towards the end - overcome with the fervour my research so often elicited. The image faded and I was left in darkness - the words echoing around me. ? I awoke to the sound of bird calls, this time in a singular state of mind. Although the barrier the gnome¡¯s device had erected around the remains of the fort had blocked the wind, it apparently didn¡¯t prevent sound from coming in. I wanted to leap from my bed and begin investigating immediately but I held myself back - more aware than ever of how obsessed I could become. I took the time to examine the decaying room. Through the main-hole I could see, in the dawn light, that the wind had died down. The trees no longer bent in supplication to the storm. On the bedside table was a wooden mug, filled with water. Next to it was a bowl of stew. I dipped a finger in, it was cold. As I shifted in my covers to do so, a light chirping could be heard, coming from the foot of the musty, rain stained bed. I looked down, towards my toes and saw two feathery arms crossed over my blankets. Their orange hue gave light to their owner. Sure enough, when I sat up to have a look, I could make out the motherly chicken-headed woman who had been so kind to me when I was not in complete control of my mental faculties. I opened my mouth to say something but two things stopped me: she had clearly been looking after my vessel and I should let her get her rest, that, and the smell which wafted forth from my mouth was rancid. The meat I ate to maintain my living cover in front of Orlando had clearly gone off, the act having done little good in the end. The revelation did give me some idea as to how long I had been unconscious, and for that, at least, I was grateful. The temporary confusion and proceeding period of unwakefulness was not a good sign. There was only one thing that could have caused it, a degradation of my soul. Whether the decay was acute or chronic I didn¡¯t know, nor did I have any way to really find out. I could experiment with my Soul Manipulation but it is always smarter, and safer, to learn from an expert in the field. The study of the soul had been outlawed in my home world, and thanks to my master¡¯s warnings that wasn¡¯t a line I had breached in life. Perhaps I should pay a visit to Woden¡¯s? Cuckeling snores brought me back to my present predicament, the festering stink within my belly. Intending to deal with it, I carefully extricated myself from the bed. While the lady¡¯s arms and head where rested on the rotting bed, the rest of her sat in perhaps the only intact wooden chair remaining in the fort. Beside it was a half constructed blanket made from some kind of plant fibre, knitted together with makeshift wooden needles. Seeing it, I felt even more indebted to the woman, recalling how I had treated those who had helped me in the past - I sought to repay her in whatever way I could. I exited the room, at the highest point of Fort Far-Reach, down a spiral stone staircase. My hand traced along the wall as I walked, coming free as I passed the point where the wall no longer existed. I had to be careful as the steps were still purple with acidic poison from the Gribbiting Ropperta¡¯s attacks. The soles of my shoes, the only still intact item of clothing I owned, sizzled when they came in contact with the stuff, so I passed through quickly. The main hall was empty but I could hear the steady ring of hammer on steel echoing about the walls as I entered. The noise coming from the courtyard. Before I investigated, I took a detour to the privy - a small room with a hole that would have looked out over the village that once rested at the base of the hill, before it was overrun. Lacking a knife, I cut myself open using Wind Blade and, with practiced hands, removed my stomach. Holding the organ over the latrine I sliced it open with a second use of the spell, letting the putrid contents fall into the wilds below. I then put everything back in place and used Necrotic Healing to conclude the operation. Feeling much refreshed, I left the toilet and continued through the hall to the marshalling yard. In the centre of the grassy square, in the burned out remains of the overlarge bonfire, was the Dwarf who had decided not to leave in search of home with the others. Fettler, I believe he was called, was stood over a raised fire pit, made from the same stone as the defences. The rocks that were used to lift the fire off the burned and ashy ground seemed familiar, they stayed together but didn''t have anything holding them that way. Fettler was bare chested, much the same as myself, swinging a hammer down on the cherry coloured adze of a pick mattock; using the edge of the stone fire container as a striking surface. ¡°Get me that bucket,¡± he ordered upon seeing me, pointing with his eyes to a pail of water that was just beyond his reach. Intrigued by what he was doing, I obliged; my eyes fixed on the metal work. It was a field I long held an interest in but never had the time to pursue. When I placed it where indicated Fettler lifted the tool, eyeing the edge, ensuring it was straight, before quenching the hot steel. As steam rose, the Dwarf sighed with contentment, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of a sootstained hand, blackening his forehead. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Thanks lad,¡± he said distractedly, as his eyes remained on the metal. ¡°What are you up to?¡± I asked, curious as to the purpose of the implement. ¡°I bent the cutting head of my pick and I needed to repair it,¡± he said, matter-of-factly. ¡°I meant more in a general sense, why didn¡¯t you leave with the others?¡± ¡°Ohh, that,¡± he replied, pulling the cooled metalwork from the liquid and knocking off the slag with a brass brush. ¡°Well,¡± he began, looking around conspiratorially. All that could be heard was the early morning bird song and far off cries of returning monsters. ¡°There be good ore in these parts, I have a nose for it,¡± he said, leaning in and tapping the side of his nose to emphasise the last. I was out searching a nearby cave, that¡¯s hows I broke my pick. Stone round here¡¯s hard as vulcan¡¯s hammer.¡± He struck the side of his makeshift forge to demonstrate his point, leaving a ringing in my ears. ¡°There¡¯s a cave near here?¡± I asked, a thought burgeoning. ¡°There¡¯s several, I reckon there used to be rivers running all under these lands,¡± he responded. I took a moment to mull over my idea and returned to the previous line of questioning. ¡°There may be ¡®good ore¡¯ in the area but that isn¡¯t really an explanation in and of itself. Do you even know where you are? How would you get back to your clan or family or whatever if you did find anything, where in the middle of the wilds, it shan''t be long before the monster¡¯s start poking around again, now that the fight is over. How long has it been since I fell unconscious?¡± I added as an afterthought. ¡°Three days,¡± he replied before coming to my first question. ¡°Truth be told, I don¡¯t really haves a home to go back to, I¡¯m much like Darna in that regard,¡± he said with strange emotion behind his words. After I looked at him for a time, willing him to go on, he coughed and continued, ¡°turns out the clan doesn¡¯t appreciate my approach to work, ¡®it¡¯s dangerous,¡¯ ¡®stick to the established methods,¡¯ they do be saying. Load of old codswallop,¡± he huffed. ¡°Right¡­ and what is your job?¡± I asked with a thought to settlement-building. ¡°I be an Architect,¡± he said with a broad grin as he hoisted the still smoking tool over his shoulder, seeming not to notice its heat. ¡°An experimental Architect?¡± I asked, not quite believing what I was hearing. ¡°Of course,¡± he guffawed, ¡°there¡¯s always room for improvement, I¡¯m not going to let a few collapsed houses stop me. Or that school, or that hospital, or that heptagonal mineshaft, or¡­¡± he went on, listing failed designs. I felt a sort of guilty kinship with the dwarf, I too often sought knowledge no matter the cost but I was beginning to reconsider my position¡­ if only a little. ¡°Okay,¡± I said, cutting him off,¡± would you mind showing me that cave?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± he replied, not put out by the interruption, ¡°I was just heading back there to give that node another crack.¡± He whistled and the pile of rocks he had been using as a makeshift forge and anvil began to move. It untangled itself, resolving into a very familiar shape. I used Identify: Name: Rubble Rouser 1 Title: Gareth Race: Earth Golem Class: Golem: Lv.24 Age: 4 days Skills: 0 Spells: 0 Attributes: Strength: 56 Agility: 7 Charisma: 0 Perception: 5 Willpower: 0 Intelligence: 0 Wisdom: 0 ¡°How are you doing that?¡± I asked, surprised to see one of the Rubble Rousers still moving. I had thought them all to have been destroyed by the tide of Ba-Shh. Looking at the creature with my arcane eye I could see that it was still being animated by my mana. ¡°Never met a stone who said no to me,¡± he replied with a wink, spinning the mattock, which had been busted by just such a rock, over his shoulder obliviously. Since he wasn¡¯t willing to be forthright, I decided to see for myself. I asked the golem to raise its left arm, and it did. I asked it to jump, and it did, shaking the ground and nearly causing me to stumble. Fettler laughed, his legs steady. ¡°That¡¯s your pet I take it,¡± he said as I continued my tests. ¡°Yes,¡± I replied with distracted annoyance. ¡°Could you order him to jump,¡± I asked. Fettler shrugged and did so, the golem took a second but then did as ordered. It was baffling, I had expected some trick of mana, a thin strand connecting the two, or maybe some power behind his words, but there was nothing. The creature should only obey me and yet it seemed he hadn¡¯t been lying, he truly did have a way with stone. Eventually, I grew tired of the fruitless endeavour and we set off for this cave. On the other side of the courtyard, by the crack used as an entry point, there remained the carcass of the bronze bull, severed in neat halves by a vertical strike. One of the hooves was missing. I shot a look at the dwarf and he retrieved the bronze brush he had been using earlier. I noted the dull purple band, which Maniae had claimed would be my prize for surviving, was still in place. I was surprised it was still there, I would have thought either Orlando or the enterprising dwarf might have taken it. I bent to retrieve it. ¡°Careful,¡± the dwarf warned, seemingly having warmed to me after finding I had an earth golem under my command. ¡°Why?¡± I asked, frozen in my half bent state. I saw no traces of mana about the thing, neither did my Soul Manipulation or Life Sense raise any flags. ¡°Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn ya,¡± Fetter responded, unwilling to divulge any details. I steeled myself and touched the crown. As soon as my undead flesh came in contact with the metal I felt like I was being watched, judged. It took a moment before the feeling passed and I was exempted with some reluctance. Congratulations: I heard the cackle of an insane woman, whisked along on the wind, when I read the last remark; somehow conveying that I had been released from a deal I never agreed to. Fettler made a disappointed noise when he saw me retrieve the crown and place it in my near-full spatial bag for further examination. As soon as it disappeared, the feeling of being watched left with it and it was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. ¡°That thing zapped me every time I got too close. I tried everything but it wouldn¡¯t let me near,¡± Fettler complained. ¡°What can I say, I¡¯ve never met anything metal that can say no to me,¡± I parroted with a mocking wink. Fettler laughed goodnaturedly and slapped me on the back, nearly sending me spinning. With that dealt with, we continued our trek to this cave. It only took five minutes of walking through the dense forest, my Life Sense peeled for threats, before we came to a stop at a clearing. A pool lay before us, from one side a stream trickled down on the other a waterfall filled the basin. We had to skirt behind the loud water feature to come to a tunnel, worn into the rock. The Rubble Rouser - named Gareth by Fettler - was too large and uncoordinated to follow so was left to stand guard at the mouth to the passage. We only had to scoot in 30 feet before a roughly circular chamber opened up. It was getting dark this far in but that didn¡¯t seem to bother either of us. ¡°There she is,¡± Fettler said, pointing to a sparkling blue crystalline ore in the centre of the chamber, scuff marks left in the stone around it showing where the dwarf had tried to get the thing free. Fettler sighed, "Truth be told, I don¡¯t think it''s just the stone.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t?¡± I asked, kneeling down and examining the clearly magical metal. ¡°No, something like this would count as belonging to a domain. I tried to claim this land but I had no luck. Probably belongs to some stuck-up noble somewhere who can¡¯t even use it,¡± he said, his words seemed defeated but his actions anything but. Just as he raised his pickaxe to give extracting the ore another crack I laid a hand upon his arm, staying his swing, and saying: ¡°I think I can help, if you¡¯re willing to do something in exchange,¡± a broad grin blossoming in time with my earlier thought, now fully matured. Chapter 22: Necropolis II Chapter 22: Necropolis II ¡°How?¡± Fettler asked, his interest piqued. ¡°I¡¯m the lord of Far-Reach,¡± I responded, simply. ¡°How?¡± ¡°That¡¯s quite a long story, that I will tell you if you agree to my terms.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°With words.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°Shut it Socrates, do you want mining rights or not?¡± This time there was a pause while the pesterous dwarf considered. ¡°What would you be wanting from myself,¡± he asked, leaning on his pick mattock and stroking his long and intricately braided beard. ¡°You¡¯re an Architect. I want to build something here. Now that the kingdom to the west no longer holds a claim on this land, it would be a great opportunity to make some proper money,¡± I explained as eloquently as one could in crumbling rags. ¡°And I would get rights to all the metals within the territory?¡± he asked, something sly behind his words though his face remained impassive. ¡°You would have the right to mine all metals in the land, which you could sell to others should we be able to attract some Professionals. In return I would have right of first refusal on the purchase of any metals mined, in exchange for a fair market price,¡± I offered, ready to negotiate. ¡°Deal!¡± Fettler said, a gleam in his eye. Before I could react, he snapped up my hand and shook it vigorously, leaving me wondering how badly I had messed up. Congratulations: As soon as I dismissed the notification, and my vision cleared, I saw a bare chested dwarf; swinging with gusto. Rockchips flying and pick mattock striking in rhythmic assault. For whatever the dwarf lacked, he more than made up for it with his ability to maintain a consistent tempo. Before long, the clump of ultramarine, crystal-like metal the size of a peach was extracted - its many facets shimmering in the faint light which penetrated this far into the cave. Fettler looked proud as punch, holding the node to his eye - tapetum lucidum illuminated with a purple, aquamarine light. ¡°So¡­¡± I began, drawing the dwarf¡¯s attention from his Precious. ¡°What is it?¡± I could tell from a cursory examination the stuff possessed an ability to absorb mana but little more. My question snapped Fettler from his reverie and he grasped the metal tightly, drawing it to his chest. ¡°Mine!¡± he hissed, as possessive as a mouse with its cheese. I raised my hands and took a step back, not willing to come to blows over this. ¡°As we agreed: you have the right¡¯s to any metal in my territory,¡± he relaxed, ¡°but should you choose to sell it I would have to be offered the first crack.¡± This caused him to tense slightly but once the more rational side of his mind usurped control, he calmed. ¡°Ha, fat chance of that!¡± he scoffed. ¡°Do you know what this is?¡± ¡°Did I, or did I not just ask?¡± I asked, deadpan. The stern expression on such a youthful face did not give the impression I intended, judging by the smirk pulling at the dwarf¡¯s features. ¡°Fine, fine,¡± Fettler relented, ¡°Tis Tolianite that, ain¡¯t no stuff better.¡± ¡°Better for what?¡± ¡°Better for anything. It changes based on what type of mana yor puts into it. Want it ta be a fluid, add water-mana. Want it to be hot, add fire-mana. Whatever you do it maintains its strength - giving it endless uses¡­ Only problem is you need to find someone with the right mana type for whatever you do be doing,¡± the last remark was said with a speculative beard rub as he no doubt pondered how he could convince a number of mages to make their way here, now that he was tied to this place. ¡°I think I can help, if you¡¯re willing to do something in exchange,¡± I said, more than ready to leverage my unique core for profit. ¡°Now who¡¯s repeating themselves,¡± Fettler muttered, rolling his eyes. I shot him a smile. ¡°Go on then, how''s that?¡± he questioned. ¡°I can get you whatever type of mana you need, but I¡¯ll be needing a sample of that stuff for my experiments,¡± I weaselled, feeling the fervour come upon me. More conscious of my past self I took a calming breath. Again the dwarf¡¯s love for all things shiny seemed to take control as he clenched the metal tighter, a shade flickering across his Dark Vision enhanced eyes. ¡°How much you be needing for this ¡®sample¡¯ then?¡± Fettler asked, his accent thickening. I did some mental arithmetic and suppressed the urge to unleash a series of Necrotising Bolts from my replacement finger and abscond with the fascinating new material. Had my inclinations been so strong before? I didn¡¯t know. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°5 troy ounces,¡± I eventually replied, arriving at the conservative figure, ¡°of each node collected,¡± I added to ensure I wouldn¡¯t be forced to forever provide mana for only a one time payment. After my first remark he screwed up his face, wincing as if I¡¯d just slapped his mother, the second provoked an even more outlandish expression. ¡°You couldn¡¯t do me worse if you dug up Nana Schist and struck her, backhand, across the face,¡± he complained with obvious outrageous offence. ¡°1 troy ounce. I¡¯m breaking my back for every node. If I¡¯m able to find any at all, this stuffs rarer than a pair of socks.¡± He clearly wasn¡¯t ¡®breaking his back¡¯, I had seen how easy it was for him to dig up, now that he had the permission of the lord, me. ¡°4.5, and that barely covers the cost of getting you all the mana you¡¯ll no doubt need,¡± I lied, not willing to reveal I would be the one and only source. After some more bickering and back-and-forth, we arrived at a tax of 3 troy ounces from each node discovered. Should the weight of the metal be less than 7 troy ounces then I was entitled to 10% of the mass. This stipulation seemed rather a thorn in Fettler¡¯s side, but I insisted upon it to prevent him from splitting apart any further nodes and claiming them to be too small to share. In exchange, I would supply whatever type of mana he should require for any of his Architectural endeavours in a timely fashion, I chose not to mention that, given the difference in age, we might have completely different opinions of the term ¡®timely¡¯. With a flare of mana on my end and a vow to the god Vulcan on his, a magically reinforced contract was formed - which couldn''t be broken without dire consequences for either of us. Congratulations: It appeared the amount of metal I had bargained for wasn¡¯t enough to measure on whatever scale the system was using. With neither of us quite happy, but both content, we left the cave - Fettler having promised to separate my portion when he had created the correct tools. All he had on him when he was taken were the supplies a dwarf might need when out prospecting - which, naturally, included a smithing hammer and pickaxe. As we walked through the still peaceful seeming forest, I asked Fettler if he possessed any other Professions besides Architect. ¡°Of course,¡± he nearly spat, with unintentional derision. ¡°You humans might only be having one but a proper dwarf can¡¯t leave the Nieavellir without the full three. Only took me two hundred years to get mine!¡± he boasted, chest puffed out. ¡°And those are?¡± I pressed, not at all impressed with the dwarf. I had spent nearly a melinia on only research and I hardly ever mentioned it. ¡°Architect, that¡¯s an uncommon one that is. Miner and Woodworker, to help me build my designs - since half the clan stopped helping after my first detonation.¡± ¡°¡®Detonation¡¯?!¡± I parroted with a mix of curiosity and admiration. ¡°Down worry,¡± Fettler reassured, ¡°That shan¡¯t happen here. I learned my lesson: saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal don¡¯t make a better form of cement, the loss of levels from the System was enough of a warning.¡± Before I could inquire further our conversation was cut short by a desperate squawking. We had arrived at the fort. ¡°BAAAKKAARRKK! FETTLER! Where is that no-good, selfish, dwarf and what has he done with that human child? Poor thing out there sick and alone.¡± The screeching call turned to fretted worrying as it descended the tower in a flap, audible from where we entered, via the crack. ¡°Darna!¡± Fettler bellowed with undampened enthusiasm as we walked through the battle damaged courtyard. We met at the main entrance, the chicken woman coming forth in a huff. ¡°Fettler you great oaf!¡± she clucked, swatting at him angrily with feathered appendages. The dwarf bore the assault with an unwavering smile. ¡°How are you beautiful?¡± he asked with unabashed delight. ¡°Stop that!¡± she demanded, hiding her embarrassment with stronger and swifter strikes. ¡°I barely know you!¡± I was left to wonder if there wasn¡¯t perhaps another reason the two chose to stay behind at Fort Far-Reach. ¡°Let me get a look at you,¡± the mother hen said, drawing me in and examining every inch. ¡°You stupid dwarf, how could you let him out in this condition?¡± she asked, indicating the ragged remains of clothes. ¡°He seemed fine,¡± Fettler responded, uncomprehending. He looked back and forth between both of our bare chests then at Darna¡¯s colourful knitted garb. ¡°You can be okay with walking about all indecent but this one was sick until this morning,¡± she chided. I was feeling rather ignored in the exchange. ¡°Excuse me,¡± I butted in, or tried to. The volume of the dwarf¡¯s beration only increased and I was drowned out. Fettler grinned, clearly admiring the woman which seemed to spur her on further. Not willing to strain my vocal cords, I gave a command to Gareth, the sole surviving Rubble Rouser, and he hopped to. Seconds later, a sound like the ring of a great bell chimed through the forest, sending birds to scattering, as the golem landed a heavy blow on the bronze remains. Silence fell after several seconds of deafening noise. ¡°Thank You,¡± I began, stealing the momentum before the pair could start up again. ¡°Please, take a seat,¡± I said to the both of them, getting Gareth to lay down, his head one stool and his torso another. Darna seemed quite confused but did so. Fettler just did as she did. ¡°Darna, it¡¯s nice to properly meet you,¡± I started, getting the pleasantries over with, ¡°I appreciate all you have done to maintain my body.¡± She smiled at first but her expression went stale as she tried to puzzle out my odd phrasing. ¡°I have some things I must be honest with you about, I ask that you please withhold any questions till the end,¡± I said, pacing back and forth as if in lecture. There was silent ascent so I continued. ¡°I chose to keep this a secret from Orlando and you saw how that turned out, frankly I¡¯m surprised it wasn¡¯t much worse¨C¡± I began but was immediately interrupted. ¡°Who¡¯s Orlando?¡± Fettler asked. ¡°Orlando¡­¡± Darna added, rolling the name around her beak.¡± That rings a bell but I don¡¯t know why.¡± ¡°Shit, sorry,¡± I cursed,¡±I did it again. I¡¯ve really got to think before I speak.¡± ¡°Oh, you mean Rowland.¡± the dwarf interjected, putting two and two together. ¡°Fuck it, I¡¯ll just say something else stupid if I talk to much. Here are the facts:
  1. ¡°I am the knightly lord of Fort Far-Reach.
  2. I am not a child.
  3. I am not the person you see before you, this is just a dead body that I¡¯m puppeting.
  4. I want to build a settlement here and have already made a contract with Fettler, which I will resend if the previous statement is too much for him.
  5. I am a Lich¡±
Darna was stunned into silence, clearly not knowing what to think. Curiously Fettler¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change throughout the reveal, seeming content. I looked to him for confirmation. ¡°I don¡¯t care if you¡¯re Nix herself so long as I get my metal,¡± he affirmed, to my relieved surprise. I didn¡¯t realise just how freeing letting the truth out could feel. Darna was still computing. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear you say it plainly,¡± a voice I hadn''t expected to hear for some time said with an inflection I couldn¡¯t read. Turning, I saw the Paladin returned, my hand still clamped to his shoulder, lights from my Illusionary skin still glowing. Not happy, or sad, or angry, he looked¡­ profoundly disappointed, as he approached slowly through the rubble. Chapter 23: Necropolis III: Osseus’ Diary Chapter 23: Necropolis III: Osseus¡¯ Diary
Introduction: I have decided to keep a record of my actions, owing to the recent mental break, I require documentation of my present thoughts and feelings to ensure there is no deviation. Presently, I feel as though there are two versions of myself, the Emotion - driven by hatred, fear, happiness, ect. Then there is the Logical, or mostly logical - it appears he has stolen my passion, nay, need for research and placed it at his centre. If he takes charge, the only thing that will seem to matter is my quest for knowledge. I fear using Soul Manipulation to peer into my own depths in case it peers back. The first sign I had something wrong was the gradual change in my personality. When I first emerged in Cosmo-Osto I retained my insatiable desire for knowledge, testing the bounds of this new world, and the System I assumed to be a part of it - as the air is in my home world. However it didn¡¯t take long for my focus to waver. Going through adventure after adventure. I had assumed, when I was no longer able to continue my experimentation during my timeless stint in my soul space, that my life''s newfound excitement had stopped me from being able to attain the same level of focus I once possessed. In retrospect, this doesn¡¯t make much sense. I had lived a long, and on rare occasions, exciting life - yet never before had the urge at the back of my mind failed to demand more knowledge. This, in and of itself, is no reason to fear. People change, perhaps I just took longer than most. The second cause for alarm was the warning Zeto, my master¡¯s, friend, the dragon had given. Her last words had run thusly: ¡°Please, if there is anyone who you care for in this world, choose death,¡± I now believe this may be in relation to the degradation of my soul. If that is the fate of a Lich, to go mad as their soul decays, I should not have purposely damaged it in that fight - creating Storm Cloak. Later, I thought, perhaps, the body I had inhabited made me more childish, this too may have been a side effect of my soul¡¯s degradation but I know too little of the study of souls to be sure. Lastly there were the events pertaining to the Throne in Chapter 13, and Crown that I had subsequently won. I had been overtaken by some form of enragement magic, which shouldn''t have been possible. My soul must have been damaged at that point to allow such a thing. Being overtaken by that spell wasn¡¯t the largest clue however, the goddesses whose domain I ended up in was the largest. Maniae, the stronger of the two, her jurisdiction was obvious. Mood swings and a propensity for violence, not to mention the clue was literally in the name. A goddess of madness, perhaps there was a sympathy between the two of us that allowed for my being summoned. I fear what I may learn from a study of that crown, so closely linked to my current maddening ailment. I shall wait until I have a proper laboratory set up before I remove it from its spatial container. The second of the two gods, Lyssa - as Orlando had called her - was harder to figure out. She too had a love for fighting but possessed the body of a snake. She had not forgiven my escape from their challenge upon the defeat of Bal, as Mania had done, and presumably her followers - Invisible, two-headed snakes - were still out there, waiting to strike.
Day 1, Since Waking in Fort Far-Reach: Dear Diary, Today was busy. I awoke in a rotting bed in the ruins of a crumbling fort over which I hold dominion, owing to a previous fight. A beastkin woman had been tending to me and I felt I owed her. Two of the survivors which had been eaten by the giant bronze bull, Bal, and not burned into Ba-Shh had chosen to stay behind. A Dwarf Architect named Fettler who had been excised from his clan for causing too many structures, be they above ground or subterranean, to collapse. I like him, we seem to share a love for knowledge, though - unlike myself - he can be a perfectionist. The second, a Chickenkin named Darna. I struck a deal with Fettler, giving him the System granted right to mine on my land - apparently some resources are not available without the land owners permission or without a Thief''s assistance. We also struck a bargain for Tolianite, a new material to me - I am excited to learn more about it. Fettler discovered this metal in a cave, hidden behind a waterfall. I believe this to be a perfect place for a laboratory, only five minutes walk from the fort but relatively hidden. I have asked if the Dwarf can make the place into a Lab, as part of his job as the territory chief Architect, and if he could keep the existence of the place secret. He has agreed, though I suspect he shall spend most of his time making talls so he can start working with his precious Tolianite - perhaps it would be better if we killed him. Orlando made a dramatic return, faster than I expected. As it turned out, there was more buried beneath his old house than just my old bones. Using a chest full of silver he was able to attach each of the displaced parties to a trusted caravan, conveying them back home. All except the three hooded youths who chose to remain in the town Orlando had taken them to. It was only three days travel on foot, without need to protect the refugees Orlando was able to return in next to no time. I had anticipated a confrontation. He seemed the sort to wait until a proper fight could be had. It did not come to blows, as it turns out he was merely disappointed in me. Personally I feel his expectations are far too high, I don¡¯t hold it against the poltergeist that he imprisoned me. Why should he resent my escape? I asked Orlando as much and he revealed that his main sticking point was that I choose to lie to him. I infer that he has held a Paladin contract with another liar in the past. Maniae was never able to get him to agree to such a thing, she controlled him by force. This meant it could only have been the Goddess of Light - the dominant religious figure before the timeless stint in my soul space. I was curious about her apparent fall but Orlando wouldn¡¯t speak on it. I was hesitant to ask the others as Darna had seemed to vaguely recognise Orlando¡¯s name and I wished not to learn any of his secrets from a third party. Since we were so closely linked now. Speaking of secrets, I decided to lay myself bare to both Fettler and Darna - I wanted to employ them both in the rebuilding of Fort Far-Reach. For some reason I seemed to think I owed the chicken woman but I can¡¯t recall, while writing this, why. Fettler was surprisingly unflustered and right after was more than willing to set to work on my Laboratory, spouting about this design and that. I asked about using the System designed buildings but he claimed they were useless and that his ideas were far better. Darna did not react the same. The revelation of my true identity appeared to freeze her in shock. I took her up to the only barely intact bed in the castle to ensure she got a good night¡¯s rest. She has not spoken since that time. Orlando still needed some alone time so I asked if he could scout the local area and get a lay of the land. I gave him some parchment from the notebook I kept in my spatial bag and some charcoal to draw a map. When Fettler saw this he insisted on some for himself, he had been designing the cave lab with a stick in the mud. There have been no other fits like the one I experienced which knocked me unconscious. Note: make a list of the supplies we will need to make this place profitable.
Day 2: Darna is in denial. She woke up cheery and started mothering me like a child. Making me breakfast and fretting over my state of dress. Fettler ate the fried eggs gladly. She went out into the forest and collected Jute which she then turned into a scratchy canvas shirt for the ¡°sickly child¡±. It is an improvement over nothing, although I miss the clothes Howard¡¯s staff made for me, I miss Howard - why? I feel I should try and help her - perhaps I should use enslavement magic? Orlando has not returned. Fettler¡¯s time was split: 70% on setting up a more permanent forge - smithing may not be his Profession but he seems to know a lot about it. 30% on designing my Lab. The forge will be useful going forward so I haven¡¯t complained - or It is an inefficiency and we should kill him, I can¡¯t decide. I have had no fits of insanity today.
Day 3: I am becoming concerned, in regards to Darna¡¯s mental well being. I have explained what I am to her several times but she just cannot hear it, it is as though my words were never spoken. Fettler is no help, every time the two are in the same room, he grins like an idiot and complements her. Writing of the dwarf, he still has not begun construction on my lab. The forge, however, is coming along. In one corner of the courtyard he is making a small cover for a stone forge. Rubble from the collapsed gate is being cleared by Gareth and used in the construction of the small project. I think the last remaining Rubble Rouser prefers Fettler, he still follows my orders but there is more of a pep to his step when the dwarf is the one giving them. Perhaps this is a racial ability of Dwarfs. Whatever might be causing the phenomena I believe the best course is merely to observe. I used Wind Blade to cut down trees to aid with the endeavour. It should be finished in a few days but the only problem is the leather required for the bellows. We have deer hides from when Orlando hunted up a feast but neither of us knows how to tan them, they will start to go mouldy soon. Orlando has not returned. I have had no fits of insanity.
Day 4: Good news! I don¡¯t sleep so I¡¯ve been allowing Darna to use the master bedroom but she has now made temporary bedding for the two of us. I have told her again that I don¡¯t need it. That much seems to have stuck and she has stopped trying to put me to bed when the sun goes down. It turns out that she possesses the Clothier Profession, this enables her to work incredibly quickly with textiles. She also had the Survivalist Class, a Rare Class which does a number of things but most saliently she can discover plants - which allows her to make fabric easily and help feed Fettler, who spends all his time working on the forge. Congratulations: To that end, Darna has also proved useful. She knows how to tan leather, most of the hides have begun to rot but three can be used. Hopefully this will be enough to make the bellows. Orlando still hasn¡¯t returned. He remains in possession of my left arm, and I am debating using it to contact him. I tried lighting a fire with my left hand, having forgotten that all mana pathways in that appendage are dead. Still no fits today.
Day 5: Bad news! The monsters, scared off by the battle, have started returning to the region. Darna was out in the forest today, looking for cotton, when she was attacked by a Tree Serpent, 10 feet long and as thick around as Fettler¡¯s wrist. She was chased from the wood, Wind Blades slicing their way after her. She is fine, though her wings were clipped slightly, she doesn¡¯t wish to return to the forest. Future expeditions will require multiple members. On the plus side, there is snake meat for my subjects to eat. Orlando has not yet returned. Still no mental complications, I am beginning to hope my soul is recovering though I still fear to check with Soul Manipulation.
Day 6: The forge is complete. A simple structure, in the corner which used to house the gate. It consists of a small well, about the size of a tankard, to be filled with charcoal - the surround made from stones. Beneath is a door, normally closed, and attached to a lever made from bronze - since we have so much. When the lever is pulled, the door opens - allowing for spent charcoal to be expelled and maintaining the heat. Rawhide was used for the bellows and they are rudimentary but solid. My weight is barely enough to move them - Fettler loves them. The only problem is that the dwarf doesn¡¯t quite see the project as done. I see him, going back to it - taking off a corner here, adding an engraving there. Levelling and relevelling, insuring all is flush. If he continues fettling away like that there will be nothing left. Congratulation: Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Orlando has not returned and I have decided to wait. No mental abnormality, perhaps I overreacted.
Day 7: Ground has finally been broken on the Laboratory project - metaphorically of course. The only earth that has to be removed is that which is needed to make the place flat. Fettler used most of my parchment but has finalised a design, with my help. It shall be simple. Desks and benches, hewn from stone in the Dwarven style. The coat rack and such I have been trying to make with wood and Wind Breath although the spell isn¡¯t designed for detailed work. Congratulations: It took three oak trees but I now have some passable furniture for my lab: I caught Fettler using his knife to try and ¡®improve¡¯ one of my rudimentary stools and I am debating placing a hardening spell on the items to ensure he can¡¯t whittle his way through them when my back is turned. Darna, or more specifically an ability her Survival Class gave her, allowed her to find a sticky sap that, when boiled, dries to form a strong glue. This was used in all of the above projects. Orlando still has not returned.
Day 8: Orlando returned! He seemed to be much improved, in mood at least - physically he is still dead. It appeared to be the right choice not to contact him. He did not return alone either. All five of us sat around a fire, cooking yet more deer, as he told his tale. He left in a southerly direction and plotted a path to the sea, he also cleared it. This is good for the future as I would prefer not having a direct land route to any of our neighbours lest they get any funny ideas. He found a place that used to be a fishing village before the frontier was pushed back, a nice haven - perfect for harbouring some ships. He then headed east, further into the Wilds. He was attacked thrice by Chamiseers, the invisible two headed snakes who followed Lyssa. There were no other attacks by the creatures, he speculates that they are biding their time - waiting for the right moment to attack. Their venom can make the poltergeist corporeal but that doesn¡¯t mean much - he¡¯s still level 100 and they¡¯re still just snakes. In the east he found the ruins of an old altar, to which deity he knew not, it was covered in blood. Beneath, he discovered what he assumed to be the lair of a powerful vampire. Likely the one which scared away the monsters from Far-Reach in his youth. The place was full of magical equipment and once I heard I was already planning a trip. I had asked Fettler, given his skill in blacksmithing, if it was possible for him to construct equipment for my lab but he couldn¡¯t even make a retort. It would require a skilled craftsman to make that sort of advanced equipment - although I did, of course, know how to make the enchantment my tools would require but that was useless without the implements themselves. Moving north was where things became interesting, and where our new guest fit into the picture. Hearing a commotion, Orlando set out to uncover its source. Charging into a clearing, Orlando came across quite the scene: a fight; between the fled Ba-Shh and creatures the Paladin did not recognise. Short, maybe five foot on average, peoples - using spear and Skill to fight the Ba-Shh. Naturally, Orlando chose to help, throwing himself headlong into the fight and driving off the Ashriven. These things, of course, were scared by the heavily armoured man charging from the trees and a standoff ensued. Orlando and they spoke the same language, so it was quickly remedied. None of the other listeners were surprised by the revelation thus I surmise this to be the norm on Cosmo-Osto. Perhaps some influence of the System, or the influence of some linguistic god - more testing required. As it transpired, the group of twenty or so were once part of a larger community deeper in the wilds. They had been exiled as they wished to break with the tribal traditions and to set up a new home, separate from their old ways. They were travelling with elderly and children in tow. A number had been lost, marching through the perilous wilds, as they looked for a place that could both be hidden and well defended if it were attacked. If they agree to join us, they¡¯re help will prove most useful. Their ambassador, at least, appeared taken with the Paladin and it was likely thought he might provide a source of safety. They looked quite queer, if the one specimen Orlando had returned with was any indication. He, for it was a he, spoke in a slightly high voice, with chirping inflection. One might easily mistake it for bird calls if one weren¡¯t listening acutely. His skin was saggy and lined excessively, particularly around the face, coloured a woodland brown, perfect camouflage for the temperate rainforest in which he resided. There was very little hair on the creature save for extremely bushy eyebrows. The eyes were large, brown, and recessed - pandaed by slightly darker, soft flesh. He also didn¡¯t appear to appreciate my poking about his eye - perhaps an easily irritable people? There were ways of curtailing that. His clothes were simple and rough, something on the top and something on the bottom, made from animal hide. I used Identify: Name: Treow Ee Title: Pioneer Race: Sagget Class: Identify skill too low to determine Age: 22 Skills: Identify skill too low to determine Spells: Identify skill too low to determine Attributes: Identify skill too low to determine When I used the Skill, Treow Ee shivered and withdrew the spear from his back - pointing it at me. The others looked at me strangely. Orlando was able to talk the little guy down but he kept his distance after that. As of writing this, I¡¯m still not sure why - I wanted to know more information, so I used the Skill. There is nothing strange in that. He has chosen to stay the night and shall return to his group in the morning, with a proposal to stay on my lands. I appear to be completely cured, keeping this diary was a silly idea.
Day 9: Today is my birthday, 1209, according to the System. Why am I still writing?
Day 27: I was wrong! With disastrous effects. I came back to myself, or who I think myself to be, after a punch to the face. Orlando loomed over me as tears filled my eyes from a broken nose - I was lucky he had held back his Lv.100 Strength else my soul would have been cast once more into the aether. I looked to my left and a half gutted Sagget corpse lay beside me, a woman judging by the dark green hue of her skin. He was prepared to continue the assault, and it took quite some work on my behalf to convince the Paladin that I had no idea what was going on. The last thing I recalled was the Segget people joining the fold, setting up camp around the base of the remains of the fort. They had agreed to work to make a proper fife in return for Orlando¡¯s protection, I was fine leaving him with that job and he had no complaints. They did start to think him a leader but I surmised that was for the best. ¡°Better I make the money and he deals with all the problems people bring, perhaps it might help him,¡± I thought. Congratulations: That was the last thought I remember having, shortly after I felt desperately tired and decided to retire for a nap. The strangeness of that only strikes me now. Once I was able to calm Orlando, and get him to hold back the enraged Sagget who looked about to tear my throat out, fangs bared. Myself and Orlando left the farming field which hadn¡¯t been there two weeks prior, entering a planning room in the fort which had since been cleared of rubble. Orlando didn¡¯t believe my story at first, until I showed him this Diary to verify my claim. This seemed to remove some of his anger, replaced with the embers of sympathy - this, to me, was most unsettling. It took some telling but I learned from the Paladin that much had happened in my mental absence. To corroborate his story, I checked my Notifications. Congratulations: I struck a deal with the Sagget people to chop down trees for construction and fire. A weird choice on Fettler''s behalf but according to Orlando the Seggets liked the residence, deep in the woods and well disguised. There appeared to be a notification for every little change to the Resources which was annoying and not useful so, with a thought, I dismissed them all. Orlando dug a well. Fettler finally completed my hidden lab. Evidently, he didn¡¯t think so and thus I was forced to place a ward on it. Preventing Fettler from sneaking in and fettling away at the decorative stone carving until the roof collapsed. Propagating magical research definitely would have been in the scope of my alter ego¡¯s objective - thus I am grateful that during my absence we did not contact any other settlements. I, the me that is presently who I am when writing this, believe maintaining a low profile for as long as possible is best. That¡­ was bad. I could no longer stay, wilfully ignorant. As soon as I saw that notification I activated Soul Manipulation and looked into my own soul, scared at what I might find. The image was¡­ interesting? My soul still appeared to be in one, mostly round, sphere - which was good. On the down side, two halves were forming. My soul should, I assume, be colourless - based on what little I¡¯d seen of souls since gaining the Skill. It would be in line with my pure, flavourless, mana-core. The problem was that the two not yet distinct halves were pulling parts of me to each pole. The Dark mana opposite Light. Orange against blue, Life against death, Creative schools of magic against destructive ones. This was not good at all. If these parts completely drifted apart I didn¡¯t know what might happen. Perhaps once they were fully separated they would collide back together and reform my two halves into one? Or I would be forever separated into two, limited in my use of mana. As it was, I would already have a decreased affinity for destructive magics and increased affinity for creative ones whilst the alternative me would have the opposite issue. The process was slow, so slow as to appear to be barely happening at all. I couldn¡¯t help but feel the other me might have stirred the pot a little, stuck a metaphorical finger into our soul just to see what might happen. I had expected a slow degradation, sending me into madness, this, this was much worse. I may potentially release on the world a version of me with all my worst traits. I need help in finding a cure, I need to go to Woden¡¯s. That was sinister¡­ honestly I had no idea what that meant, me and myself did not possess the same knowledge. Perhaps if I could reunite my two halves I would know. This was where the immediate problem lay, in Orlando¡¯s opinion. Apparently, my other me had been tolerable if eccentric - though he was prone to attacking with indifference any thing that stood between him and a subject of research, whether intentionally or not. There was supposedly an incident where he saw a flour that was new to him in the hands of one of the sagget men, purportedly a gift, and had blasted him away with Wind Breath without a second''s thought. I digress, the main issue in question, and the reason I am presently hated by my people is this: I wanted money and research materials as soon as possible, to that end I forced the sagget to clear forest and start ploughing and planting in order for them to sustain themselves as fast. This was not opposed by them and Orlando ensured the people weren¡¯t overworked. Despite that, one elderly woman died, collapsed in the middle of a field. I, apparently, leaped upon the corpse as soon as it was proclaimed dead and started carving then and there - desperate to know how the sagget worked. A punch in the face and then I am me again. I have decided to leave for Woden¡¯s post haste. I require immediate assistance with my little problem and the people here might try and linch me if I stay too long. I am going alone, after much debate, and have left Orlando as my steward. My leg is also left in his possession for communication. While I wasn¡¯t me I evidently severed my own left arm, with all the dead mana pathways, and replaced it with my boney old one. Honestly I¡¯m embarrassed I didn¡¯t think of that. Chapter 24: Market Basing I Chapter 24: Market Basing I It was a crisp and clear winter morning. My sharp, leather shoes crunched into yesterday''s snow, cracking through the icy outer crust. The footwear, along with a skull styled belt, the only quality clothing I still possessed. I wore a burlap shirt and baggy trousers made by a kind, if confused, chicken lady. Shaking off the snow which had been deposited from brushing past branches, I finally exited the Wilds. Thanks to my deathly disposition the white fluff hadn¡¯t melted and was easily removed. Looking up from my clothes to the walled town - across a 100 foot section of cleared forest - I felt nostalgic. I have been doing that a lot lately, not ¡®feeling nostalgic¡¯ but feeling in general. Since my soul had slowly begun pulling itself in two, parts of me were being taken by each pole. The me that was presently in charge of my body had inherited more of the emotional aspects of myself whilst the other had been taking the more logical. It wasn¡¯t 100% either way, I could still be reasonable, only about 10% of my total soul stuff had been completely taken to either one side or the other but it was enough to notice an increase in what I was emotional intensity. It was a phenomena I would love to, nay, need to study further if I intended to keep who I was intact. I would have done so in the hidden lab in Fort Far-Reach, built as part of the settlement''s resurrection, if time wasn¡¯t so pressing. I knew nothing of the study of the soul, it was banned in my home world after the Undead War. Starting in a new field from scratch was a long and laborious process, thus I needed to find an expert on the topic in this world. The best place to do that would be the only institute for magical learning I had heard of - Woden¡¯s School for the Magical Arts. I was headed there in the hopes of finding such a person, or at the very least begin the search. Before departing from the treeline I checked all my Spells - intended to maintain the body I possessed. That of a 15 year old wannabe Wizard named Hal (Henry Price) who had black bowl-cut hair and circular rimmed silver glasses. Minor Finesse allowed me the manoeuvrability to operate the Zombie vessel without appearing jerky and uncoordinated. Sunscreen protected me from the effects of sunlight on undead flesh - that being the loss of animation - basically stopping me from falling unmoving to the ground until nightfall. Preserve Meat prevented the flesh that housed me from slowly rotting away and, as such, I was forced to overlap instances of the Spell. About a month ago I had been unable to do that as I had fallen unconscious for three days. This had caused my skin to become rather gaunt and leathery, making me look older than my age. I would, at some point, have to return to my original bones. Finally, I was employing a partial Illusionary Skin to make my left hand appear normal when it was, in fact, anything but. My other self, seeing the old left hand as useless - the mana network burned out from when I flooded Howard Phillips¡¯ body with mental mana to release him from the control of an evil Wizard - replaced it with my original, or its bones, that Orlando had given to me before he knew who I truly was. With my four necessary Spells cast and set to last for 24 hours or so, I began across the clearing to the town I had visited so long ago. As I walked across the tree stumps of the cleared section of woodland, I wondered why I had felt nostalgic upon seeing this place. It didn¡¯t at all look as I remembered. Where before, the town was small and lightly walled, with barely a gate, now the place was positively sprawling - the central section stoutly walled and subsequent rings having shorter, sometimes wooden defences. The place was on its way to being a city, and a martial one at that. Fitting for being on the new frontier - the blockade of civilization. The only thing I recognised was the spire of the church - though even that had changed. Before, it was a great white spire, narrowing to a point, atop which was skewered a yellow effigy of the sun - about the size of a man. Though the structure still stood, the top had been knocked off leaving a sharp obelisk stabbing up, no longer painted and showing the bear shaped stone beneath. No doubt it was consecrated to a new god if it were used at all. Orlando, my new Paladin, had alluded to the fact that the Goddess of Light - who used to be most worshipped in these lands - had fallen but neither me nor myself much cared for ecclesiastical matters. ¡°Stop,¡± a commanding, if tired, voice resounded from a rippling secretion of space just before me. I halted, raising my hands and coming still in the centre of the clearing. I followed the thin strand of mana which came from the distortion back to another hovering in front of a decorated armsman atop the wall. The Spell was being maintained by a rather sickly looking young mage who stood beside him in fluffy white robes - holding aloft her staff, more to show she was working than to aid with the working. ¡°State your name and intention,¡± the voice stated, in a flat tone - as if there were business as usual. For once, I thought before opening my mouth, would my name be known? I doubted so, I had used it several times and no one recognised it. Unfortunately the silence was more telling. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°Name and intentions,¡± the man repeated, annoyance undercutting his professional tone. It was still the early morning so I could hardly hold it against him greatly. ¡°Osseus, I seek to enter the town and resupply before heading to Wiccawick,¡± I answered truthfully, knowing from Orlando that there were Skills which could detect falsehood. It may have been a slight bending of facts as, being undead, the only supplies I required were one''s for writing as Orlando and Fettler combined - along with my short lived diary - had used the last of my parchment. I worried, for a moment, that my tone had been too self assured for a teenager wandering around in burlap rags - well made but nonetheless. ¡°Why are you coming from the Wilds?¡± he asked, returning to the this is just my job neutrality. That question was a difficult one to answer honestly, thinking not so long this time I replied: ¡°I was transported 3 days into the Wilds by a Spell.¡± ¡°3 days?¡± he asked with a tinge of respect. Before I could wonder if the question was rhetorical the officer asked another - proving it was. As he was saying the last he was also unfurling a scroll which the magi had handed him, clearly reading from it he called: ¡°Are you: intending any form of harm to the citizens of the town of Market Basing or the greater kingdom, in service to any of the fallen gods, or finally, a vampire,¡± the man listed in a bored tone. The boredom of bureaucracy must have been contagious as I was forced to stifle a yawn before replying: ¡°No, to all of the above.¡± ¡°Alright then,¡± he said sharply, rolling up the scroll and thrusting it back at the Witch, ¡°You may proceed to the gate - so long as no contraband is discovered to be in your possession - the town of Market Basing, first of the frontier, welcomes you.¡± And with that he snapped his heels together, turned ninety degrees and marched off up the wall leaving the magic user to dismiss her Spell. She appeared quite drained from the effort - visibly slouching when the magic was released. The commanding man stamped a foot before coming to a stop. Without turning he shouted something, clearly intended for the woman as she quickly stood erect, I couldn¡¯t hear what exactly from this distance without the Spell active. The commander then stamped his right foot again and continued marching as if a stick had been shoved up his arse. I was surprised by the seriousness with which they took security here, I hadn¡¯t seen any monsters when making my way through the forest. Lowering my hands slowly I continued across the cleared land and towards the shut portcullis. There might have been a queue in front of the other gates but it appeared the one which abutted the Wilds was rarely used. Rust showered down on me in flakes as I waited for the great metal construction to be heaved up. Upon entering I was searched, they didn¡¯t try very hard however - likely because of my poor clothing. They found nothing on me, one of the guards, clearly pitying me, threw me a single silver just before I left the checkpoint, only to receive a slap round the ear from his colleague. I had all I owned in a black velvet spatial bag, which I had found through happenstance. It was tied between the bones of my left arm, disguised by Illusionary Skin - the gatesmen didn¡¯t even check for magic. ¡°Thanks!¡± I called back earnestly to the generous man as I raised a hand to my mouth forced to stifle another yawn. I had already started down the mostly empty morning-street by this time so he was forced to shout back. ¡°That¡¯s fine, if you need a place to sleep - check out the Leading Jenny. It¡¯s cheap and clean. If you need winter clothes the owner''s daughter is who you wanna meet,¡± he added as I finally made it out of earshot - waving back all the while. I chuckled to myself: What do I need with an inn, I don¡¯t sleep nor eat, I thought - rubbing my tired eyes. Wait¡­ panicking at the sudden drowsiness that was quickly overcoming me, I wrenched myself into an alley and out of public view. The last time I had thought to take a short nap I had been taken over by my alter self and he did not relinquish control; it had to be struck from him. Watching my hand opening and closing, my fingers thick and heavy, I had to force myself to calm. Panic yet another emotion that seemed to have a tighter grip upon me than normal. Using Soul Manipulation, I looked inward to my core, where my soul was taking residence. The process of polarisation was accelerating and I could see pieces of me torn from the conglomerative centre and to each side. A memory one way, an instant death spell the other. More and more of what made me me was being separated into two new souls. Desperate, eyes blinking slowly - heavy with sleep, I resolved to try something stupid. I swallowed, steeling my nerve, before imbuing my left hand with Soul Manipulation as I slumped to the ground - against the wall. I shoved my hand into my own chest, planning to fix the damage later. The Skill made the immaterial tangible and I grasped my own soul, then I shook it as hard as I could. That was perhaps the worst idea I had ever had. It did appear to stop the process of separation, sending the parts of me tumbling around like a globe filled with the snow which was beginning to silently fall. It felt as though someone had stabbed me in my heart again, but at all moments of my life simultaneously - not only metaphorically but physically. It hurt. I was confused. The last thought before I collapsed: Why did I never examine that gnome''s wind blocking contraption! On Hold I''m going to place this series on hold for a while. I have completed the plan for the rest of book 2 but lack the motivation. For the past couple of months I have been very busy and, where before, when I was supposed to be working I''d be thinking of this, I haven''t been able to get another idea out of my head. It is what I''ve been dreaming about, what I think of in the shower, and what comes to me when I stare off into nothing: The Everything Omnibus It''s about a sentient universe and looks more closely into the idea of gods, at least at first, but I hope to eventually encompass everything. Every possible adventure, every possible setting, all from the point of veiw of the universe. The end goal will be to include Lv.1 Lich as a part of this greater omnibus but not be so limited by the rules of the world of Lv.1 Lich which I find constrain me more and more.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. If this sounds like your cup of tea then I urge you to give it a go. The first chapter is already up and the second will probably be up tomorrow. All the best, Merlin Pendragon. Chapter 25: Market Basing II Chapter 25: Market Basing II ¡°Do you think he¡¯s dead?¡± a rather rough and apathetic voice asked, poking at my limp body with a foot. ¡°He¡¯s pretty pale, don¡¯t suppose he has much by the look of him,¡± another man said from further up the snowy alley, dismissing me out of hand. ¡°Still, it''s worth searching him,¡± a third voice stated, clearly the leader of the band of ruffians. I groaned as the world rushed into existence, my head aching like crazy. The man, who had been about to search through my pockets, yelped at the disturbance. My vision swam as I looked about at my predicament. The ne¡¯er-do-well coughed gruffly to cover the embarrassing outburst. ¡°Where am I?¡± I asked, looking up at the three slightly intimidating men. They were wearing mostly black rags, their faces covered by a corner of cloth. The sky overhead was dark and it was difficult to make out more of their appearance. ¡°Turn out ya pockets,¡± the tallest and best dressed of the three demanded in his authoritative voice. The other two had seemed hesitant upon finding me alive but he was unphased. With his declaration, the others¡¯ demeanours hardened; they turned to me as if to back up his demand. Not really understanding what the man was saying, so dazed and confused was I, I continued narrating my thoughts aloud, ¡°Who am I?¡± I didn¡¯t really know. ¡°What is this?¡± I asked no one as I scooped up some snow and let it fall between my fingers. Upon seeing the three men I had felt afraid, they were far larger and stronger than me but the white and fluffy stuff had completely stolen my attention and it was as if the thugs no longer existed. Cold, compressible, melty¡­. This is snow? I thought, not quite sure of the fact. The stern posture of the second man, the one who wasn¡¯t incharge and hadn¡¯t been about to rob me, faltered. ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this¡­¡± he said, unsure. ¡°The church of purity says it¡¯s a sin to harm the insane,¡± he went on, his body language hesitant as he played with his fingers nervously. There was a moment of indeterminable silence between the three, which I was completely oblivious to as I examined a body that was unfamiliar yet somehow my own. Smack! I flinched at the sudden noise as my attention was, once again, drawn back to the trio of criminals. I looked up from my prone position at the scene. As far as I could tell, the leader of the three had just dealt a clout to the less certain member. ¡°You idiot!¡± he bellowed, clearly angry. I was scared by the sudden display of emotion and curled up in an attempt to hide, not yet in control of my body enough to run away. ¡°I¡¯ve told you time and again to stop going to that den of zealous brain washers,¡± ¡°But¨C¡± ¡°But they hand out free bread, that¡¯s exactly why you shouldn¡¯t be so hesitant to rob people. Better to be on the wrong side of the law than the wrong side of history,¡± the one incharge chastised. His subordinate looked down at the icy cobbles in shame. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°The church of purity does try to help people,¡± the third man interjected, brave or stupid enough to choose now to butt in. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what the Church of Light said,¡± the leaderman rebutted. There proceeded another silence, one of a more sombre sort. The exchange had taken so long that I had forgotten my fear and had been running the rough fabric that made up the crude shirt (or so I believed it was called) through my fingers. ¡°It tickles!¡± I giggled as the scratchy fabric scintillated my nerves. My outburst, unbeknownst to me, had softened the heart of the third man - the interjector and he said, ¡°Perhaps we should leave him be.¡± The second man seemed to gain some confidence at the third¡¯s words as he looked up from the floor and at the ringleader with some hope. Clock! A sound like two coconuts¨C {Coconuts? What are they? A large, round nut, filled with a white tasty flesh and water that gives you diarrhoea if you drink too much, my brain responded. Thanks? I replied questionaly to myself before continuing the line of thought.} ¨Ccolliding resounded down the alley. I shifted my focus and saw that the two lesser ranked men within the criminal cabal had had their heads smashed together by their overlord. They didn¡¯t seem hurt, just dazed. ¡°The mental ones are the best ones to rob from,¡± he hissed, anger fuming from between clenched teeth. Look at him, he¡¯s going to die anyway. Better we have anything that¡¯s on him than the corpse collector. Those shoes, they''re worth a pretty penny,¡± he ended, calming slightly and pointing to my feet. I looked down. They were rather nice. Shining black leather with a skull made from the punch hole perforations, on the perforated toe cap bout fleuri. I paused, wondering how I knew so many technical terms about shoes before another question struck me. ¡°What are shoes for?¡± I asked aloud. This caused the two dirty-work doers of the group to halt in their menacing advance and look back pleadingly at their boss, who only shooed them on. Thinking of shoes, I managed to push myself up onto my arms as I watched the feet of the two men. They walked with bent knees and hands out to their sides as if they were trying to catch and eel but that¡¯s not what caught my attention. The white fluffy stuff was being marked by their passing. Footprints plodding along in the snow. Behind them, I saw something curious - another trail was being made in the wondrous winter water but I couldn¡¯t make out a source. A slithering trail, about as thick across as my new arm, was winding its way down the alley from behind the three men. ¡°What''s that?¡± I asked, pointing curiously. My brain did provide a response this time. The in-front-men looked about to look but their leader grasped both their heads and kept them pointing towards me. ¡°Nice try kid, but I wasn¡¯t born yesterday.¡± The three continued and stole my full attention. Just then, a group of kids, ranging from about 11 to 17, flooded into the alley from behind me. They too were dressed in rags, about a dozen in all. To a one, they seemed to be malnourished and thin - only the size of their group and their weaponry made them a real threat to the three full grown and fully fed men. Speaking of weapons, they all carried ones of an improvised sort - mostly shives, crude wooden clubs, scrap metal, and the like. They came between me and my attackers. The new group¡¯s leader spoke first. He wore a brown flat cap. ¡°Doger, you¡¯re not gonna rob anyone in the Street Kids¡¯ teratory!¡± he said, fire in his words. His slight frame only slightly detracted from the image as he slapped a metal pipe against his open palm. My eyes remained on the encroaching serpentine trail as it went between the seething leader¡¯s feet. The tension grew between the two parties as they eyed each other up. My curiosity was overwhelming and, when the mysterious phenomena drew near, I held out a hand to hold the thing. Out of nowhere there appeared a snake and it bit onto my outstretched hand. I screamed! Chapter 26: Market Basing III Chapter 26: Market Basing III It didn¡¯t hurt. It took me a moment to realise the two headed snake, with spiky crowns about each end, didn¡¯t actually cause me any pain when it bit down into the meat of my right hand. Looking at the injury curiously, I saw a thick black liquid slowly oozing from the two pinpricks the fanged creature¡¯s bite had caused. That felt¡­ wrong somehow. Shouldn¡¯t my blood be read? The tense situation around me seemed to tip over the edge at my outburst. Where before, the two parties were at a standoff. When I cried out, the ¡®Street Kid¡¯ (as they called themselves) must have assumed that Doger and his boys had done something to harm me. The band of delinquent, disparate desperados started at the grown ups. Unarmed and outnumbered, the robbers decided to retreat but not before their leader called back: ¡°You¡¯ll regret this! The Ringmaster will hear of this Barbu, don¡¯t think this is over.¡± The voice grew more distant as the riled-up kids rallied and routed the riffraff. I ignored the commotion. Picking up the creature by the scruff of one neck - the other head swung round and latched onto my thigh struggling desperately to injure me but again, it didn¡¯t hurt. This creature was fascinating. A dark greyish black in colour, this thing could hide even without its invisibility. The only giveaway would be the snake¡¯s eyes. They glowed an ominous red with anger as it thrashed desperately in my grasp. I found it rather cute. The sharp and angular angles of the pointy coronas around each of its faces made it seem like a tiny dragon¡­ whatever that was. A part of me thought there was more to it however. I half wanted to cuddle the thrashing reptile and half wanted to dissect the thing and learn its secrets. A part of me thought the dichotomy incompatible, but that part of me was thrust away as one half won out. Once the thugs had been run off, the malnourished militia returned to investigate the newcomer - me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about him,¡± the chief of the children said, offering me a hand. When he saw what I was hugging however, he jumped back - nearly losing his flatcap in the process. ¡°Putrid Purity¡¯s Pustules!¡± he exclaimed upon seeing the double ended snake - latched at one end to my leg and at the other to my neck. I looked up from the cuddly little guy to see what he was so excited about. Around me was a ring of poor children; all keeping their distance for some reason. ¡°What in the false heavens is that?!¡± the ringleader asked, with a mix of curiosity, disgust, and fear. I looked up at the stranger, my eyes sparkling, excited to introduce my newest pet. ¡°This is Cuthbert,¡± I said, thinking of the name on the spot. Proceeding to wrench one of the vicious and confused heads from my neck - leaving a pooling mass of black streaming out of the ripped opening - I thrust it towards my saviour in an attempt to get the creature to play with him as well. He jumped back further. The others prepared their weapons - pointing them at me. I looked about at them wildly, not knowing the reason for their sudden betrayal. Seeing the genuine fear and lack of understanding in my eyes, flatcap bade them lower their arms - approaching slowly with hands outstretched, palms down. He stopped just beyond the range of Cuthbert¡¯s striking distance; not that he needed to. The serpent, although I tried holding it by the neck and pointing it towards my new friend in offering, was struggling to twist in my grasp and latch back on to me. The thing was adorably clingy. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°How do you feel, are you okay?¡± he asked with concern, as he set his metal pipe on the ground, to show he was no threat to me. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I responded, cocking my head. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I be ¡®okay¡¯?¡± ¡°That snake, that¡¯s biting you, I think it¡¯s poisonous,¡± he said, clearly not really knowing what to do or say but pressured into doing something by the presence of those that looked up to him. ¡°Venomous!¡± I snapped back, not knowing where the sudden impulse to correct the boy had come from, ¡° And I¡¯m fine. This little test subject can¡¯t hurt me.¡± The second of the two compulsions had taken its turn and I looked at the creature, unable to wait for it to spill its secrets and for me to spill the things guts. ¡°Actually,¡± I went on before he could respond - speaking in the voice of a fearful child. ¡°I do feel rather¨C¡± ? I woke up and the first thing I noticed was that the headache that had been terrorising me had somewhat abated. I still didn¡¯t know who I was however. I looked about, twisting my head from left to right, curious to find Cuthbert but not overwhelmingly so. I found I was in a bed¡­ of sorts. More a pile of slightly stale straw with a ratty, moth-eaten blanket covering me. My two wounds were both bandaged with cleanish looking rags, with only one or two stains. A thought flickered across the front of my mind, swimming up from its foggy depths, That will cause an infection, but it was gone before I could ask what or why or how. Dismissing the errant thought as I knew not its veracity, I continued my servaling of my surroundings. It was cold. Looking up, I could see most of a ceiling far overhead. Holes the size of¡­ something slightly smaller than myself¡­ were numerous. Snow fell lightly, down from the cloudy night¡¯s sky - landing in patches on the floor of this place. Abandoned warehouse? Another thought wondered but didn¡¯t elaborate when I internally expressed my curiosity. With slight annoyance, I was forced to, once more, forget the thoughts that both were, and were not, my own. I was in a spot devoid of the fluffy white stuff, and, turning my head around, I saw there were a number of other children sleeping in other dry spots - most younger than the gang I had briefly met. I saw light above, in a room that I thought might be a foreman¡¯s office? A place that overlooked the floor from near the high ceilings. Abandoned factory? The unwarranted ideas were starting to get annoying so I chose to ignore them. Seeing that my pet/specimen was nowhere in the immediate vicinity, and that the inhabitants of the lower floor were all sound asleep, I got up - somehow remembering how to operate my body. I sought to satisfy my curiosity. Climbing the rickety wooden staircase that was exposed to the whole room, I headed up, towards the flickering orange candescence. Voices began to resolve as I crept towards the overseer¡¯s room - trying not to wake the sleeping children below. ¡°What are we gonna do, the Ringmaster will drive us out of town once he finds out we attacked one of his men,¡± one rather young sounding girl complained with evident fear. ¡°That won¡¯t happen,¡± the voice of the boy who had offered me his hand responded, sounding very much sure of himself, ¡°We have a deal with that circusfreak - we don¡¯t set foot on his side of town and his men don¡¯t operate on the wildside,¡± he insisted, though even I, still several steps from the door, could hear there was uncertainty behind those words. Wildside, is that because this side of town is closest to the Wilds? One half of my mind wondered. Of course it is, you overly emotional dolt! The other responded viciously. That wasn¡¯t good, it was bad enough that I was hearing voices - but now they were talking to each other. Deciding to pretend that didn¡¯t happen, I continued my oddly quiet advance, wanting to thank my saviours and ask if they¡¯d seen Cuthbert. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯ll matta,¡± a slow and ponderous voice said grimly, to which the only response was silence. I pushed open the door. That voice, so crude and inelegant - speaking so slowly. Probably belongs to an idiot with more muscle than mind, the colder of the two voices scoffed. Don¡¯t be so mean, you can¡¯t possibly know that, the other retorted. ¡°Get out of my head!¡± I yelled, tearing at my hair in desperation. The room''s three inhabitants, sat on upturned crates about a candle, turned in shock to the newcomer who had barged in and started screaming. They looked at me as if I were crazy. Why? Chapter 27: Market Basing IV Chapter 27: Market Basing IV The flatcap wearing teen was the first to recover from the shock of a sudden intruder entering and screaming about things being in his head. While the other two stared, gormless, at the new arrival, the leader jumped up off his crate and walked cautiously towards me. Speaking in a surprisingly calming and even voice he asked: ¡°Are you alright?¡± Each step was light, as if approaching a skittish animal. I could understand why he might be treating me this way, especially after my outburst, but I couldn¡¯t help but have my pride stung a little by the way he was acting. Now that the voices were silent I could be much more reasonable. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said, rather more icily than I had intended - my voice crisp and clear, as if I hadn¡¯t just been screaming. The sudden change of character, from a crazed mental invalid to someone of sound mind and clarity of thought, caused the approaching boy to trip slightly and have to come to a halt several steps away as my strong gaze bore into him. ¡°Who are you?¡± the voice of the young girl came, from a cockheaded lass dressed in dress-like rags slightly better in quality than the norm and dyed a rich yellow. She was short, about four and a half feet tall, but older than her voice had suggested - maybe 16 years old. She had wide, brown eyes that turned sharp upon my entrance, brown, dirty hair, a thick coating of freckles about the nose - whose shape was pixie-like and buttoned. Before I could answer her question, the leader looked back at her with an expression I couldn¡¯t discern, as he was facing away from me, then turned back to me and nodded - as if to say, ¡®please, go ahead¡¯. He asked, ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± The self assuredness I had mustered to straighten my back and keen my gaze drained away at the question and I slumped slightly but maintained eye contact with Flatcap. ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted, a frantic whispering might have been heard from the voices in the back of my mind but I did my best to ignore it. ¡°How can you not know?¡± the girl snapped. Once more, Flatcap turned about, lowering both hands in a sign to quieten down and decrease the intensity. I stepped forth with confidence, not wanting to be seen as stupid or insane, for some reason, and closed the door behind me so that the sleeping children wouldn¡¯t be woken by the overloud conversation. Throughout the exchange thus far, the third member of, what I assumed to be, the leaders of the Street Kids gang had sat quite and just observed. He was large for a teen, ridiculously so. Standing, he would probably be about 6¡¯ 3¡¯¡¯ but all skin and bone. The rags which coated the lad were mostly burlap, very common among the children - the same as my present attire. He had dirty blond hair and a slight point to his ears which suggested something but I couldn¡¯t remember what. His skin was dark, somewhere between golden brown and chocolate. His eyes suffered from a severe negative canthal tilt and his interocular distance was greater than the average, adding to the impression one of my personalities had gathered from his earlier speech - that of slowness. ¡°I don¡¯t know who I am, I awoke in the street right as Doger turned up with his lads. I can¡¯t remember anything from that point. All I know is that you saved me from what I assume to be a nasty fate and for that I am grateful. How can I repay you?¡± My words were direct and candid. The three didn¡¯t seem to know how to respond and silence reigned for a goodly minute. ¡°If he really wants to help, I think there¡¯s a way that he can get the Ringmaster off our back,¡± the big fellow said, to my surprise. I was invited to sit on a crate about the candle so I did so, much to the young lady¡¯s evident annoyance. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°Go on then Lento, let¡¯s hear it,¡± the one incharge encouraged. We all turned to the elf and waited for him to begin to speak. He took his time, looking off into the middle distance - presumably collecting his thoughts. Just as I thought he might have forgotten what he was about to say, he spoke in a tortoise-like manner, each syllable long, ponderous, and drawn out. ¡°The Ringmaster, or Carris as he used to go by, had a son¡­¡± ? I found myself stood atop the roof of a three story building in a nicer, though still not great, section of town. The night was still young and I felt the overcast sky and gentle snowfall should have made it nearly impossible to see a thing and yet my sight was near perfect. I was out here in an attempt to repay a debt I felt I owed - half of me was proud of myself for doing so and the other was annoyed that I wasn¡¯t spending the time in study. With the two opposing viewpoints within me it was impossible to determine how I felt. But I had time, I would be stuck waiting here until the other parts of the plan fell into place so I decided to delve deep within myself. I, whoever I was, felt a debt was something that should be repaid - at least with 70% certainty. What else did I think, that was entirely my own thought¡­ were any of my thoughts my own or the products of those two waring consciousness within my psyche. I have to assume I do have unique ideas or this whole train of thought would be derailed before it had begun its journey. I looked around to see if there was anything else I found I had an opinion on. Shingles - nope. Snow - other than it being the first thing that drew my attention upon waking, no. The candle light that floated gently out from the window I was watching - now there was something I had feelings about. My back twinged with remembered pain as I looked upon the candle¡¯s essence, my body recalling what my mind could not. And yet, I did not dislike the light. The impression I had was more of a nostalgic fondness. I looked down, expecting to see a quill in my hand and parchment to my fore. This was something to work with. I must be a scholar of some description to react as I did. Whomever I was, I had spent hours hunched by a candle, working away. I looked about for something else that might provoke a reaction, eager to learn more of my former self without the bias of those two voices. Peering down onto the quiet night time street, I saw the carriage rolling along towards the inn I was spying on. The horse, the trap, the reins, the whip - none of them did anything for me; save for the whip¡­ maybe, though I only got the faint impression of something indestinked. It wasn¡¯t until a colourfully dressed man, with a black tophat and red tailcoat, stepped down from the charage - a heavy set man on each side, acting as guards - that I received another flash of memory. When I was small, probably younger than I was now, I smelled the circus animals. I wasn¡¯t there as a guest. I was sneaking about, dodging the group''s strongman. He patrolled, the caravan¡¯s sole watchman, the rest asleep. I snuck into the leader¡¯s carriage. He was asleep, his safe left open. My price was inside - a book that called to me, whispering secrets, drawing me in. I picked it up. A hand landed on my shoulder. I turned about, seeing the circus master enraged and red faced; a whip in his free hand. The flashback ended and I again found myself crouched atop a rooftop in the middle of the night. The Ringmaster had already entered the building. That memory was¡­ confusing. Was I, a younger me, a thief? I didn¡¯t think so, I hadn¡¯t felt what I was doing was wrong. Why did that book, with its runic cover, call to me so intensely? Even in my recollection it left a strong impression. As if reading it could reveal a whole new world, a world I had discovered once before. There was more to the images. Compared to those I saw around since waking, the style of clothing was much different. Everyone in my memory wore far more simple clothes, made from one piece of cloth. The people all seemed more dangerous, not only did they expect violence but they were ready for it. Somehow I knew, wherever that memory took place, most people would be expected to carry a weapon of somesort, it wasn¡¯t uncommon to have to fight to survive, overall it seemed a much harsher place. The last thing of note was the word the enraged man had begun to say before the memory ended. It wasn¡¯t in the language I had been speaking since waking up, the sounds were harsh yet guttural, but I found it somewhat comforting. Like coming home from a long, long trip and taking a nice warm bath. I was beginning to suspect I may have travelled a long way to get here, wherever here was. I really should have asked Barbu, the Street Kids¡¯ leader, where I was exactly before agreeing to his lieutenant¡¯s plan. In hindsight, I should have asked a lot more questions before agreeing to this hair brained scheme. I watched our mark, the Ringmaster, enter his room on the highest floor of the adjacent inn, the Leading Jenny, he left his guards outside the door, shut the curtains and I was left to wait. It didn¡¯t take long, after only half an hour the light went out in the room and after the other half had passed I began to move. It was time to play my part.