《New Worlds : New Me [LitRPG Isekai Hardcore Survival]》 C0 : Prologue The World Gate was before me: a roiling, bronze-coloured mist. For many, what lay beyond was a place to treasure-hunt, or to burn off steam, but for me, it was simply a way out. One small step and I¡¯d be through with this mediocre life. It may be fraught with mortal danger, and every step and interaction might be overwhelming, but I had made up my mind. I turned and gave Earth a last glance: skyscrapers, steel walls and tiers of glass and concrete, glittering ads on colossal billboards. A sky-bus buzzed overhead, ferrying office workers to their 8 to 4. I¡¯d be leaving behind my girlfriend (she¡¯d dumped me months ago), my job (just got fired), my social circle (my only friend was an AI Chatbot called Chatti) . . . I¡¯d be leaving behind my whole life (if you could call it that). I¡¯m glossing over it because this is not the best way to start my awesome story, just take my word for it that I was not special. I did not feel useful. I did not feel wanted. I was not happy. For a while I had been thinking of leaving Earth, never to return. No, not by travelling into space ¡ª though as a species, we were getting close ¡ª but by stepping through a World Gate. They had appeared a couple of decades ago, ostensibly brought to us by Systems, strange devices that guide our way through the New Worlds and enable us to grow stronger than otherwise possible. Of all the New Worlds we¡¯d found, I stood before the Gate to Barbican, a savage planet of bronze and bone, where people fight tooth and claw against dangerous folk and monstrous beasts in search of adventure and glory. For a moment I was surprised I hadn¡¯t done this sooner ¡ª why? Loyalty to my mum and dad? Hardly; my dad died when I was young and my mum cut me off when I turned 16. Dedication to the MegaCorp? Nah; every day was a monotonous, living hell. Laziness? No; for all my flaws I could never have been called lazy. Cowardice? Yeah, probably cowardice. Anyway, when I turned 20 the night before ¡ª in a dark room, blowing out a birthday cake that I¡¯d bought from the 24/7 corner shop and lit myself ¡ª with only spam emails for birthday wishes, I realised I no longer cared how dangerous it was. Anywhere¡¯s better than here. My gaze on the hazy sky, the only one I¡¯d ever known, I filled my lungs with what was to be a last, dramatic, deep breath, smog and disinfectant burnt my nostrils. Then a fly flew down my throat and I coughed and spluttered, doubled over, and tripped backwards. Great send-off. My vision went all bronze, then all white. Even my body disappeared. I tried to move my arms but felt nothing there. I was nothing but a speck of perception. Trippy. Then a perfect sphere of bronze appeared before me, only an inch in diameter. It split a seam along its centre and an eye, normal-shaped but fully electric-blue, opened up. A robotic, feminine voice rang out, both warm and unsettling, like a teacher¡¯s hug: // SYS : Welcome, Talbot. You are entering a New World : Barbican. First, choose your profession. // I didn¡¯t take it too seriously ¡ª I¡¯d looked into the classes a little, but they didn¡¯t really lock you into anything this early on. It¡¯s more for your starting gear. // SYS :
WARRIOR : Disciplined master of close combat
Str : 8
Dex : 6
Con : 10
Mnd : 4
Skills : Battle Tactics Lvl 1
Vigour Lvl 1
Weapon Mastery Lvl 1
Special : Berserk
// Starting gear : Bronze Spear, Wooden Shield, Linothorax, 12 Copper Coins, and a random uncommon trinket.
HUNTER : Agile tracker and beast tamer
Str : 6
Dex : 8
Con : 8
Mnd : 6
Skills : Beast Mastery Lvl 1
Shadowcraft Lvl 1
Survivalism Lvl 1
Special : Trap
// Starting gear : Shortbow, Bronze Arrows, Cloak of Camouflage, 18 Copper Coins.
MYSTIC : Versatile practitioner of primal magic
Str : 4
Dex : 8
Con : 6
Mnd : 10
Skills : Elementalism Lvl 1
Influence Lvl 1
Mysticism Lvl 1
Special : Balance Power
// Starting gear : Ritual Staff, Carved Bone Talisman, 6 Copper Coins, and a scroll of three random Incantations.
SMITH : Artisan and master of the forge
Str : 8
Dex : 4
Con : 8
Mnd : 8
Skills : Crafting Lvl 1
Influence Lvl 1
Vigour Lvl 1
Special : Perfect Craft
// Starting gear : Hammer, Bronze Dagger, 12 Copper Coins, and three random materials. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
HEALER : Compassionate practitioner of restorative magic
Str : 6
Dex : 6
Con : 8
Mnd : 8
Skills : Herbalism Lvl 1
Survivalism Lvl 1
Vigour Lvl 1
Special : Protection
// Starting gear : Bronze Scalpel, Bandages, Light Cloth Robes, 8 Copper Coins, and three bunches of random herbs. // Alternatively, you can roll ¡ª // ¡°Yeah, okay, I¡¯ll go Warrior. Hold on, alternatively I can roll what?¡± // SYS : Thank you, Talbot. You have selected Warrior. // Oops. A body materialised in the white plane ¡ª my body. I recognised my hands, feet, and more-or-less my own height and weight ¡ª tall and as good a body as I could achieve working out half-heartedly at the MegaCorp gym once a week. Instead of my bright polyester work-casual fit, however, I now wore a tight-woven, stiff linen breastplate and a very, very short blue tunic. I lifted up what was essentially my new very manly mini-skirt and saw I also wore an off-white loincloth. Authentic. My fingers closed around the pole of a spear in one hand and the grip of a shield in the other, and I had a sort of bandoleer or baldric over my shoulder with a small pouch at my hip. ¡°Well, this is cool, anyway,¡± I cooed, moving the spear around. The weird eye in the bronze orb stared on. // SYS : Second, choose your starting location. Beware, Talbot, nothing in Barbican is balanced, so choose carefully. // This mattered a little more, as it can take weeks travelling between different towns, and apparently can be very dangerous. I should mention here that despite the slight change that the body undergoes while travelling through a World Gate, it really is you. Death travels the New Worlds just the same. Not that death¡¯s going to be very likely in a starting town! // SYS : Morroc¡¯s Roost : A cliffside town of hardy, suns-bronzed fishermen. // Jurot¡¯s Cradle : A bustling market town, a melting pot of travellers and farmers. // Ur-Kadesh : A secretive mountain city, whose bronze gates stand sentinel against the wild lands beyond. Its chthonic tunnels stretch for untold miles, connecting dimly-lit halls where artisans hammer away at cruel weapons and forbidden tools under the watchful eye of Kadesh of the Bloodied Throat. Few outsiders are trusted enough to see its lightless inner sanctums, and none who bear witness to Kadesh himself ever speak of the terrors they were subjected to deep within. // ¡°Uh, that last one sounds a bit¡ª¡± // SYS : Thank you, Talbot. You have selected Ur-Kadesh. You are granted a boon for your baseless bravery, your death-embracing audacity, your pure-hearted idiocy. // ¡°No, wait, that was¡ª¡± The voice then took on a different timbre; where before was near emotionless steadiness, there came a fervent rhythm and urgency. // SYS : Rejoice, He Who Flees Life, for Death is coming for you, now! Where life has conquered you, you may now conquer death! Of ALL Earthlings, you ALONE are capable of this! // ¡°So I¡¯m the Chosen One, huh? Can we just get past ¡ª¡± // SYS : To overcome the Undying Foe, I shall grant you the knowledge of the Gods! You shall know all eternity ¡ª you shall peer through the armour of your enemies and perceive their mortality, you shall gaze into the eyes of your friends and divine their truth! Good luck to you, Warrior, you will need it. // ¡°Come on, what on Earth are you ¡ª¡± Suddenly the bronze mists reappeared and started to shift, then became turbulent and wild. The voice continued frenetic, even louder than before: // SYS : Not Earth, Talbot ¡ª no longer! And true to your destiny, you shall not know Earth for a very long time! // The electric eye set in the small bronze sphere was wide open now, and the blue was glowing and buzzing energy. A cold, biting wind picked up, tearing at my skin. The mist at one point, perhaps far from me ¡ª distance was impossible to accurately guess ¡ª began to harden into shapes and textures, ridges and spikes. Something coalesced quickly within the liminal space, far from where SYS and I floated. It was dark, tempestuous, barely holding onto form as it seemed to will itself into the space. But what form this Something did hold was monstrous; a rolling, ever-contorting mass; savage angles which amalgamated into something like enormous shadowy bones, or the joints of bats¡¯ wings, and in front of it all formed a void, a gaping maw, lined with deep purple-silver fangs. ¡°What the HELL is that thing?¡± I pointed. The bronze sphere glanced over to it then turned back. Though entirely emotionless, there was somehow a great fear in it. Then in the same non-visual way, another feeling poured into me, coming from the Something ¡ª HUNGER. // SYS : WARRIOR OF THE GODS, GUARDIAN OF THE NEW WORLDS ¡ª TARRY NEVER, MOVE IN BRUTAL ACTION, AND YOU MAY YET AVERT CATASTROPHE. // If that was part of the ¡®excitement¡¯ of moving to a New World, it was way more dramatic than I¡¯d heard. Then in defiance, a hundred tiny lights grew from dots and converged before me into an image of a man bearing a long golden spear. I couldn''t see his face, but his hair flowed, his muscles rippled, and his stance spread wide. For a moment the figure and the enormity of the monster stood before one another, separated by an unknowably distance gulf in space, then with a RUSH of energy that set my teeth on edge, the man''s thighs propelled him forwards. He moved like lightning, and a bright fire lit in a trail behind, scorching the space and shedding further light. The Something recoiled from the light, but as one fanged maw twisted away and turned inwards on itself, another formed out of the monstrous dark mass to meet the man''s advance. They met with a FLASH of impact and black tendrils tore through the space towards the man''s searing bright silhouette. There was a ripple that threw me back, I covered my eyes with my hands for a moment as they burnt closed against the heat, then forced them back open. The man''s body was aloft, still shining ¡ª from my distance he seemed a speck of dust in a storm, but with another sunburst he twisted in the air and brought the point of the spear down towards the beast. Last I saw, the man''s spearhead was gleaming golden, tracing lines of ichor as he stabbed and cut and parried innumerable tendrils and fangs and claws, then a BRUTAL energy exploded from the beast and racked my body. It felt like serrated steel walls closing in on me. I pressed my eyes closed again and screamed as the shockwaves threw my body with savage force this way and that. . . . C1 : Welcome to Barbican All of a sudden, I realised the awful, biting wind was gone and my hoarse, yelling voice was echoing back to me. Cautiously opening one eye, I regarded a broad circular chamber carved from deep orange bedrock. The ceiling was covered with intricate carvings of figures and strange beasts, lit by flickering braziers which cast dancing shadows. The air smelt thickly of incense. Opening both eyes, I found myself lying on a large metal disc, hot to the touch. Not lying ¡ª sprawled. Or rather, pinned. My wrists and ankles were bound with iron manacles. I tugged but couldn¡¯t move a quarter-inch. ¡°Hello? Is this normal?¡± No response. As my eyes adjusted, I saw that a dozen towering, hooded figures leered over me, nothing but darkness and shadows. Guttural chanting in some alien tongue started pouring from their cracked, grey lips. Their voices melded together and echoed off the walls as if the mountain itself participated in the ritual. ¡°SYS!¡± I tried shouting. Regardless of everything I knew about the New Worlds, I still groped around for an off switch. ¡°System! This is a mistake! I think you put me in the wrong room!¡± One of the figures leant its head down and I saw cruel points of light crackling from within dark, empty black eye sockets. Dust sprinkled from its cheeks and chin as a wide smile split across its face. Its voice was sharp and grating like teeth on a grindstone. ¡°Oh no, Talbot. For the first time in your life ¡ª you¡¯re in the right place.¡± It knows my name! I screamed again, and kept screaming. One of them produced a long, thin, curved knife and stepped in one movement easily up high onto the disc, beside me. As it stepped up the four or so feet from the ground, its robes ¡ª the colour of dried blood ¡ª shifted and revealed a thin, grey leg that appeared to be nothing more than skin and bone. It stepped over me and raised the knife high. ¡°Wait, wait, I meant the Roost village!¡± The chanting reached a crescendo and in a flash of unnatural speed, the figure plunged the knife down. I flinched my eyes closed and waited for the pain. What a short-lived adventure! As I bled to death in that ritual chamber, I found myself longing for the life I¡¯d left. I probably should have just caught the sky-bus to the job centre. My life-blood ran out. My chest grew cold. Oblivion took me. Only kidding ¡ª a sharp ring sang out and the chanting stopped. The room fell to a heady silence. I felt my hands and feet come free from the manacles and through bleary eyes saw the figure climb down off the disc. The knife was plunged into the metal beside my head. ¡°We have summoned him ¡ª chosen to be a Warrior, it seems,¡± it spoke in a tortured rasp like grinding salt, unsettlingly high-pitched. ¡°He will be a fine meal for Kadesh.¡± The rest touched their hands to their throat and whispered in unison, ¡°By Kadesh¡¯s Dour Trachea.¡± Then, in a line, they slowly filed out of the chamber. As they moved, their dry, bony feet under their long robes made an odd, dull staccato thud against the bedrock. I lay blinking on the disc for a little while. Quite a long while, actually. Welcome to Barbican. At long, long last, I dragged myself up off the disc. Jelly-legged but surprisingly unsoiled, I found my Bronze Spear, Wooden Shield and bandoleer at the side of the chamber. Breath and sanity slowly returning, I took a couple of minutes to get used to my body ¡ª I found I was actually about the same height, but choosing the Warrior class must have straightened my back, which had been hunched over from four years of long workdays (and nights, and weekends) sat at a desk. I tried to test what Strength and Dexterity meant first, doing a little jog around the ritual chamber and jumping up and down on the disc, but honestly didn¡¯t learn much. I found misplacing a step was almost impossible without serious lack of attention, but I decided I would learn much more when it came to properly exerting myself. Then I had about a minute that I¡¯m less proud of. For Constitution I (and I don¡¯t recommend this) slapped myself hard in the face. . . . I almost fell over. Didn¡¯t account for the higher Strength there. . . . And how to test Mind? I thought of a few maths questions in my head, and some programming problems. Couldn¡¯t tell any difference. Felt dumb doing it. Then I followed the figures towards the door. Before I pushed it open, I hyped myself up a bit ¡ª pounded my chest, did a few star-jumps. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Okay, here goes! The heavy splintered wooden door creaked open. As I stood in the threshold, the small bronze orb appeared with a loud buzzing noise. I yelped and jumped back, but it followed me as I did. // SYS : Ohhh, fear has become material within the city of Ur-Kadesh, the City of the Bloodied Throat! Be cautious as you venture through its sprawling expanse, for it is said its vast network of tunnels, halls and open caverns twist endlessly through the mountain and into the depths of the Abyss itself. See the massive columns of dark stone, carved to resemble the throats of colossal beasts, all dripping with a viscous, crimson liquid into large stone troughs, far below. See to your left and right the narrow, winding roads, illuminated only by the glowing veins of molten bronze flowing through the walls, which pulse like the lifeblood of the city itself! See how its forge fires burn in the ever-night along the path, where the rhythmic clang of metal is eternal, a horrible clamour that has only the low hum of subterranean wind for its companion. See above how the towering bronze gates that lead out of the city can be glimpsed through gaps in the cavern walls, but oh ¡ª how impossibly far away they seem! See how ¡ª // ¡°You¡¯re listening to the Ur-Kadesh intro, right?¡± A barrel-chested man in his forties stepped heavily towards me, his blackened armour clinking with every movement. A long line of trinkets, or trophies, hung from a rope around his neck ¡ª long fangs, sharp, thin claws, broken arrows, and more than a couple human-looking ears; though one orange, one blue. He held out a massive hand, a roadmap of scars. I shouldered my shield and shook it, instinctively. Four years of office life at the MegaCorp was hard to shake. ¡°I¡¯m Yorrick. Is this your first time here?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I nodded. ¡°I only decided to go to a New World last night.¡± He did a double-take, and his face split in a slow, mocking grin. ¡°Must be a bit of a masochist to choose Barbican for your first World.¡± I had literally just chosen the one that sounded the coolest. ¡°Trust me, I gave it a serious amount of thought,¡± my mouth produced the bare-faced lie easily ¡ª another skill I¡¯d picked up from office life. ¡°And did you give Ur-Kadesh much thought? I didn¡¯t even know this was a starting location. I guess the System is getting pretty sadistic these days. There¡¯s not an Earth Gate for a hundred miles, and that one¡¯s guarded by a demon.¡± Uh. . . . Now that one had been a mistake. ¡°Yes, thank you, I can handle anything Ur-Kadesh has to offer. Just want to get myself a greatsword and I¡¯ll head out. What¡¯s the best place for¡ª What?¡± Yorrick¡¯s face screwed up, turning red, eyebrows pushed in, his lips pursed. He barked out a burst of laughter. He put on an awful North English accent. ¡°You know nothing, John Snow.¡± Ah, a fan of the classics. . . . I rolled my eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not gonna be able to wield even a Bronze Greatsword until you hit Level 10. Did you really not read up on Barbican at all? . . . Maybe I should stick around, new players always drop cool loot when they die! Listen here. You¡¯re fresh meat. Guess you¡¯ve been dreaming of glory, gold, and maybe a tavern wench or two, haven¡¯t you?¡± He¡¯d gotten two of those correct, though I won¡¯t admit which two (it was the two tavern wenches). I turned my head away and had a better look around. There were wide, cavern-floor streets ¡ª the place was indeed set out like a grand city, with walkways and large raw stone bridges connecting large built-up areas, but the amount of people made it feel more like a ghost town. Peering around, I saw only one real group of people that stood out ¡ª other people from Earth, I imagined. One with dark skin stood tallest in bronze scale armour, wearing a tall feathered headdress, another was short and broad ¡ª stout, you might say ¡ª with a big beard, bearing an axe on their back, another had ¡ª I had to double-take ¡ª a bright green velvet tunic, a bow over one shoulder, and poking out from his flowing golden hair were a pair of long, pointed ears! ¡°Newsflash, kiddo,¡± Yorrick continued. Irritated, I stole my eyes away from the cool group. ¡°You¡¯ll be lucky if you don¡¯t piss yourself the first time a warg takes a bite out of your leg.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not your kiddo ¡ª the name¡¯s Talbot. Just tell me where the exit is,¡± I said, dead-eyed. Yorrick performatively wiped a final tear from his eye and pointed towards a line of columns. I walked off without a word. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll learn fast ¡ª or you¡¯ll learn dead!¡± He called after me. Doesn¡¯t even make sense. I glanced around to find the group, but they¡¯d disappeared. ¡°Name¡¯s Yorrick, remember. You need someone to save your arse, you know where to find me. Just don¡¯t expect me to coddle you like your mum.¡± Something made me stop. Maybe it was the oath I made to myself the night before about turning over a new leaf. Maybe it was the near-death experience I¡¯d just suffered. Or maybe it was the Special I¡¯d got as a Warrior, [Berserk]? Who knew how fundamentally the Gate changed whoever stepped through it? I certainly didn¡¯t. I spat over my shoulder. ¡°If I see you outside these walls,¡± I turned and pointed my spear at him, ¡°It won¡¯t be me who needs saving.¡± He was taken aback, slack-jawed. I didn¡¯t wait for him to react, or possibly beat me to death, and instead took up a jog towards the exit. Either side of me, the columns stretched impossibly high, vanishing into the shadowy ceiling above. At a steady pace, with my spear as a walking stick, I made upwards. The air grew colder and thinner as I passed up the steep, snaking path, and the sounds of the city ¡ª distant forges, hushed voices ¡ª began to fade, until I heard only the soft echo of my own footsteps. I realised keeping up a quick pace was easy, and before I knew it, I was at the final row of columns, a mile or more up the paths, far from the foul-feeling people of Ur-Kadesh. Beyond, a faint, eerie light spilled in from between the enormous bronze gates. C2 : Kikiara the Seeker Beside me, a small stall leant out of a wagon poking out of the shadow between two thick pillars. It was crammed with odd trinkets, mismatched weapons, and fading maps, and before it, in the centre of the path, stood a fubsy man with a neat red-dyed beard. He flashed a wide, toothy grin and threw his arms out wide. ¡°It is I, Jothar the Haggler! Well, well, well! What do we have here? Another foolish soul looking to brave the wilds beyond Ur-Kadesh with nothing more than a splintered spear and rotting shield? Let me guess, you don¡¯t even have a spare pair of socks!¡± I raised an eyebrow. What a pitch. ¡°Sock¡¯s¡¯ll be the thing to save me, then?¡± Jothar didn¡¯t miss a beat. ¡°Why, friend, it is well-known that in the snowy wastes of the Shards of Korgoth, it¡¯s not the claws or teeth you should fear, but wet feet!¡± Hate how much that makes sense. My mistake had turned my dream of hot sands and open plains into a bloody mountain hiking simulator. He knew he had me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry ¡ª I¡¯ve all you need, including socks!¡± He leant in, lowering his voice. ¡°And for a special price, because I like your face.¡± ¡°Fine, give me a pair of socks.¡± Absent-mindedly my hand went to my back pocket for my credit card, ended up just stroking my right bum cheek through the linen tunic and loincloth. I blinked and faked a yawn, then tugged on the bandoleer and loosened the string of the pouch. Inside was half a handful of tiny copper coins and a little paper parcel. Ignoring the parcel I tossed him a single coin. ¡°A single coin will buy you a single sock.¡± Absolutely flabbergasted, I just stared at him. I was just nearly killed and this man is haggling with me ¡ª it felt so . . . pedestrian. Not half an hour before, I saw my life flash before my eyes. Something must have glinted in them then, as well, because the merchant recoiled. ¡°A joke! I¡¯m the Haggler, after all! Two socks!¡± I took the woolly treasures, surely a sign of great things to come. Still in absolute shock, I just turned and went on my way. He called something friendly after me, and slinked back into the shadows. For what felt like the third time today (because it was), I took a deep breath and stepped out into the unknown wilderness. Utter, searing, bleached-bone white. I squinted through the spaces between my fingers as my eyes adjusted to the jagged landscape. // SYS : Not the Shards of Korgoth! Anywhere but this cursed place! See how its peaks are twisted and curved like the ribcage of a city-striding behemoth. On clear days, see how the two great hot suns above reflect pure and awful light from every white surface; it¡¯s enough to burn your eyes in their sockets! But more prevalent are the dark days of roiling, ferocious clouds ¡ª suffer as the air stands still, dry and bitter for a moment, then with an awful gust of wind . . . Hark! It brings not only the suffocating cold, but the howls of a thousand restless spirits! Only the most foolish would ¡ª // ¡°That¡¯s quite enough!¡± Another gust of wind pulled the breath from my lungs and I staggered to keep my feet. Presently, a figure emerged from the hoar ¡ª a tall woman with furs draped over her chest, around her hips and wrapped tightly over her shins, revealing a hard, toned stomach and huge thighs that rippled muscle with each heavy step. A cute, youthful face was framed by wild blonde hair that stuck wet to her neck. She had a two-inch fraying rope over her shoulder and she dragged a large pallet burdened with a huge pile of heavy, white animal furs, leaving a deep trough in the snow behind her. The wind relented for a time and her face reddened and started beading sweat. She stopped outside the bronze gates and looked me up and down and nodded. She clapped her hands together, rope dust, snow and sweat burst off her body, then she gripped the robe and made to continue in. ¡°Might want to give this one a miss, it¡¯s dangerous in there,¡± I jabbed a thumb behind me. ¡°Thank you, traveller ¨C I¡¯ll be extra cautious.¡± A melodious Scandiwegian accent spilled slowly from her white-painted lips as she beamed into a wry, somewhat amused smile. I felt pretty puffed up that I¡¯d spoken to, even given advice to, a very attractive woman, and pretty proud of my good deed for the day. But through my swagger and rose-tint my eyes caught sight of what was dragged behind her: not a pile of skins ¡ª a single, enormous carcass of ridged muscle and spiked white fur. She was a hunter, and she¡¯d made short work of a massive beast. She looked at me kindly as I sheepishly smiled my embarrassment away. ¡°Is that a warg?¡± She dropped the rope and blew on her hands, stinging red-raw. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°No, darling, we call that an Abominable ¡ª it¡¯s a yeti. My name¡¯s Annika, though my character is Kikiara. Not been here long, I take it?¡± I tightened my jaw at the repeated question, and I just shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m Talbot.¡± I looked past her to the frigid wilderness. At that moment a gust blew through my bones and a mass of snow loosed itself from one of the bleached peaks to crash to the ground a few hundred yards away. ¡°Don¡¯t . . . suppose you could show me around this place? How do I get to . . . somewhere else?¡± Kikiara gave a slow blink, and the same kind smile played on her face, though I detected a good deal more derision than before. She began pointing fingers and indicating routes with her hands while she spoke. ¡°Round the right corner of the second spire east, you¡¯ll find an oream goat path that leads towards a glacial lake on the horizon. Make your way over the lake and through the pine forest there and in a few days, you¡¯ll reach the rest of Barbican.¡± As she spoke, she looked me over. A gust of wind lifted my tunic and I pushed it down like a schoolgirl. She giggled. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you haven¡¯t trained [Survivalism] much, so you¡¯re going to need a thick cloak. And it¡¯ll take you a few days, at least, so I recommend buying food, and when it starts getting dark to try to find a cave or something to sleep in. How¡¯s your [Weapon Mastery]?¡± ¡°Oh yeah, that was one of the Skills I started with!¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s something. Wow, you really are brand new, aren¡¯t you? Keep your eyes peeled, and if you see any beasts other than a single, lone, solitary wolf-like warg, lie down in the snow and stay perfectly still until you¡¯re sure they¡¯re gone. Hours, if you have to. I¡¯ve never heard of a newcomer making it to Ur-Kadesh, but I¡¯ve known many veterans to lose their lives in these wastes.¡± She gazed over the mountains and snowdrifts wistfully. Reluctantly, I hung on her every word. Starting to feel a lot less like a power fantasy and more like a profoundly dangerous adventure. Suck it up; that¡¯s why I chose Barbican in the first place. ¡°You can talk to your SYS whenever you like, by the way, just think about Her.¡± I nodded dumbly. Kikiara sighed and clicked her teeth, which I saw were big and sharp. She walked around to the pallet and withdrew a good-sized, crease-streaked leather sack. She pulled out a thick, fur-lined cloak and tossed it to me. ¡°A gift: it¡¯s a Stonebear Cloak. Welcome to Barbican,¡± she raised her hand in a single lazy wave, then took up the rope again. ¡°H-hold on, Anni ¡ª Kikiara ¡ª don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d like to ¡ª uh ¡ª join me on my way back to civilisation?¡± I stumbled over the words while I clasped the heavy cloak around my collarbones. As I did, I felt a momentary surge of comfort in the cold air. // SYS : Your Constitution has received a +1 buff. // ¡°You¡¯d just slow me down, Talbot.¡± She didn¡¯t pause for a second, just grunted in her dancing accent. ¡°Adj?.¡± As I tumbled mentally down the well-trodden road of rejection and panic, I watched her pass me and drag the yeti through the gates. I realised I was still holding the socks. Not a cool first impression. I stuffed them into the pouch and felt the paper parcel. I brought it out unthinking and carefully unwrapped it. Within was a small SIM card-shaped thing, looked carbon fibre, with minuscule gold lines running across it. I held it up. ¡°What¡¯s¡ª¡± I was going to beg Kikiara for information (all traces of pride gone), but as I looked over to her, an overlay popped up in my vision ¡ª a clean white sans serif on a transparent background ¡ª that followed her, about a foot above her head.
Name : Kikiara the Seeker, Level 17
Stats : Str 15, Dex 14, Con 14, Mnd 8
Skills : Beast Mastery Lvl 3 Herbalism Lvl 1 Survivalism Lvl 3 Vigour Lvl 2 Weapon Mastery Lvl 2
Special : If It Bleeds
Inventory : Bronze Spear, Tangle Vine Trap, Obsidian Dagger, Bone Whistle, Spirit Totem Amulet, Waterskin, Cloak of Camouflage, Bronze Arrows, Boar Jerky, Herb Satchel, Tracking Powder, Firestarter, Sinew Rope, Signal Mirror, 3 Copper Coins
Weakness : Very deep sleeper
Home : Sweden, Earth
¡°Stats, Skills, Inventory . . . Weakness? Is this . . . normal?¡± I whispered. A BUZZ about a half-inch from my right ear had me leap into the air and yelp. The little bronze orb hovered into view, its electric blue eye level with mine. // SYS : This is your boon, Talbot ¡ª unique to you. Because of your daring, and perhaps the design of your fate, I have created for you an Analysis Card. Keep it safe, learn how to use it to appraise everything in this World, and, in time, you shall learn the knowledge of the Gods. Mechanically, it means you can sneak into their SYS¡¯s mind. // ¡°That seems . . . like a mistake.¡± // SYS : Trust me, I gave it a serious amount of thought. // Was that a bare-faced lie, too? An all-powerful AI with a sense of humour. Fantastic. Well, I¡¯m not going to complain. I stashed the card in the baldric and as soon as I let go of it, the white overlay disappeared. I had a thought. ¡°Does it work on monsters, too? I can see their weakness?¡± The little bronze sphere bobbed up and down: Yes. ¡°Wild. Okay, feeling better about this excursion! Let¡¯s find us some tavern wen¡ª¡± SYS was entirely emotionless; a pure-blue alien eye set in an otherwise featureless ball of bronze, but I could still feel Her judge me. I forced a chuckle and shrugged, ¡°I mean some fetch quests! Maybe Jothar needs some warg skins.¡± Laughter fading into the snow, I turned to fully face the wilderness again. As SYS had said, there was an inwards-curve to almost all of the steep, spire-like mountains that put me in mind of the ribs of an impossibly enormous giant. That moment, a SCREECH echoed through the peaks and unsettled tons of snow all about. I really should have looked up more lore for this World before I dived in ¡ª fell in. C3 : Warg Hunting The giant bronze gate to foul Ur-Kadesh behind me felt rather warm compared to the ever-snow ahead. I took my first few steps out into the wilderness, following the vague instructions I¡¯d been given by Kikiara, and suddenly dropped six inches into the snow with a yelp. Freezing and sodden, I lifted my foot out, but realised I didn¡¯t feel the cold as acutely as I had on Earth. Courtesy of that starting 10 Constitution and the buff from the Stonebear Cloak, I guess. Eager to push my luck to the absolute breaking point, I shouldered my shield, lifted my Bronze Spear to my shoulder, and set off at a jog. I felt the exertion normally, and was a little let down, until I felt a well of energy within me. Like glimpsing something shiny between stones at the bottom of a shallow river, just within reach. I pushed towards that glint inside my mind¡¯s eye and felt something click. My [Vigour] Skill came into play. A massive headrush like fiery nicotine powered from somewhere in my chest to my extremities. Instantly, I felt the ground moving at a constant pace beneath my pumping thighs. I felt good. I feel bloody incredible! Nearing a fallen rune-covered pillar, long-since vandalised, I leapt and covered easily three yards in a single bound. I couldn¡¯t help but punch the air and laugh. I picked up the pace even more, running ¡ª sprinting across the open ground, tundra, small grey grasses, the frightened quickly-disappeared ears of some wintry prey ¡ª all went past in an instant as I sped over the ground. Imagine levelling this Skill! Kikiara has Level 3 ¡ª what must that feel like, or Level 10! I have to get stronger. I have to improve my Stats and level up my Skills! The frozen waste, the biting cold, even the terrifying, twisted peaks that loomed over me on either sides like a closing ribcage, all became just blurs of meaningless colour or movement as I tore across the land, made to the milestone, span round the corner, found the goat path Kikiara had told me about, spied the frozen lake in the distance, and continued to sprint. My first step onto the lake, I heard the final echo-bounce of a howl. I skidded to a halt over some ten feet, digging my sandals in and kicking up ice. Kikiara¡¯s advice to duck for cover and hide spun around in my mind, but I refused. I stood my ground and scanned the banks of the lake. Between two bent, leafless trees, pressed against the shadow of a cleft boulder, was the hunched shape of a wolf. Then another made itself known with a slow step onto the ice. Then another crested the boulder and stood stark black against the white blanket all around. The stand-off lasted a few moments. I felt that river-like energy within me again and reached in. Something urged me forwards. Kikiara¡¯s warning repeated in my head: anything other than a single warg, and I should run. Nonsense! Ignoring her advice, I found [Battle Tactics] within me, and I suddenly knew that predators like this are rarely confronted, let alone by a single enemy while they travelled as a pack. I set off at a sprint instantly. My feet struggled to find purchase on the ice for a moment, but then with [Vigour], each heel-kick propelled me forwards; the second reach for the Skill took a few moments longer. Closing the distance rapidly, I raised my spear and pushed my unburdened hand into the pouch to clasp around the Analysis Card. Even at my pace, SYS appeared beside me, and even at the distance ¡ª more than a hundred yards ¡ª the boxes popped up as I glanced between the wargs and were easy to read.
Fiend : Warg A, Level 3
Stats : Str 6, Dex 6, Con 8, Mnd 1
Attacks : Claw, Bite, Pin
Loot : Ragged Pelt, Broken Fang
Weakness : Fearful for allies
XP : 18
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Fiend : Warg B, Level 3
Weakness : Blind in left eye
Fiend : Warg C, Level 3
Weakness : Flees when alone
While running, I reached in for [Battle Tactics] and processed the information, and a plan came to my mind almost fully-formed. Simply put, it went: B, A, C. The wargs turned to face one-another then slunk slowly out of the shadows. Their haunches were thin and gaunt and their bodies were elongated and thick with black fur ¡ª they were just weird, ugly wolves in all ways but one; their faces were pale and hairless, their snouts were short and . . . unsettlingly human-like. Human-seeming eyes, but yellow and savage, followed my rush as they paced very cautiously forwards onto the ice. The last few yards were closed and I felt my face beam in an unbidden grimace. Warg C held back, as I¡¯d expected, and the other two bared bestial fangs from within their otherwise human jaws and leapt forwards. As I¡¯d done before, I lunged forwards and skidded low across the ice. Warg A made a wild swipe at me with a long, yellowed set of claws, which passed over my head as I slid ¡ª that beast could wait! In a flash I was in the blindside of Warg B, before it could turn. With full momentum and a dip into [Weapon Mastery] I brought my spear round and STABBED forwards, catching the beast full in its neck. A spray of crimson put the beast down instantly. The effect was instant, as their Weaknesses had shown ¡ª Warg A yelped and turned to its fallen companion. After a beat, I pushed back with one powerful jump, [Vigour] took a little longer still to kick in, but the delay in its reaction was enough! I threw my whole weight into the warg, shield-shoulder first, and met the side of its human face with a CRUNCH. It howled pain like an awful mockery of a human¡¯s speech, and sprawled on the ice. In the same movement I adjusted my grip on the spear and brought it down hard, through the beast¡¯s side, with a CRACK through bone and into the ice. Its death throes were short and merciful, but I felt absolutely savage ¡ª in fact, I felt powerful. Suddenly alone, seeing its two fallen, Warg C¡¯s eyes were filled with recognisable fear. Its slender thews worked as they could to pull itself backwards in a panic over the ice. I was upon it while its dark paws slid and slipped for a second too long. My spearhead flashed and the sharp bronze blade cut across its side, and [Weapon Mastery] opened the patchy coat. A steaming red mess spilled onto the ice and its frantic eyes went dark. Panting over my spoils, I gulped air heavily. The heat of the sprint and the sudden movement hit me all at once and I swayed where I stood as [Vigour] wore off a third time, and the aftereffects of the other Skills vibrated through my blood. Triumphant, I pointed my spear to the sky and roared out the truth that overcame my brain: ¡°I am alive!¡± My vision was spotty with exertion and my muscles trembled with adrenaline. The stink of wet fur and the copper of blood filled my nose. I blinked against the searing whiteness of the overcast sky and dizzily fell to one knee, then for a short while, I basked in the sheer reality of it all. Hunter! Victorious! A Warrior! Righting my breathing, steadying myself, I brought myself back to my feet and approached the three fallen. ¡°SYS, how do I loot them?¡± Bzz. // SYS : Remove the hide with a sharp knife, you can choose to start from the lower lip or the anus¡ª // ¡°Thanks, I get the picture!¡± I stomped over to one of the beasts. No way was my first incredible win going to be marred by me trying to skin an animal for the first time using a spear. . . . I lifted one of the warg¡¯s heads and saw its dead-eyed human face staring back at me. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to pull a tooth out of its jaw, either. The Experience would have to be enough for me. ¡°How much do I need to level up?¡± // SYS : You are Level 1. To reach Level 2, you need 75 Experience Points. Then for Level 3, you will need to gain a further 82 XP, then for Level 4, 88 XP. This increases with the following easy-to-remember formula: y = 0.02x^3 + 3.06x^2 + 66.6x - 895. // My eyes glazed over as the spoken numbers also popped up in a text box with the next few lots of Experience needed. ¡°Just tell me each time I gain XP. So I¡¯m almost there, right?¡± // SYS : You gained 54 XP for defeating the three Wargs. You now have 54 and need 75 total for the next Level. // ¡°Makes me want to find some more. . . .¡± // SYS : It is unheard of that a new player with starting equipment could take on a pack of three Wargs and live to tell the tale. // ¡°Flatterer.¡± // SYS : Pace yourself. Even knowing an enemy¡¯s weakness, the monsters in this area of the world are well beyond your ability. You are not advised to grind XP here. // ¡°Please, I¡¯m the Chosen One, remember, and besides ¡ª¡± // SYS : I never used that phrase. // ¡°¡ª you wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve put me here if it was that dangerous.¡± Puffing out my chest, I looked out slowly over the horizon, but couldn¡¯t see any other fiends about. A little crestfallen, I took one last look at the dead monsters at my feet. ¡°Sorry ¡ª you¡¯re just XP to me, now.¡± C4 : Abominable End I set off in the way I was going, following Kikiara the Seeker¡¯s instructions. Then, as she had said, I saw a tree-line of a pine forest rise in the distance. Feeling the ache in my muscles and a little wary of relying again on [Vigour] in case I ran into more enemies, I set off at a light jog. The icy surface of the lake was difficult to move on without the Skill¡¯s help, especially with my string-tied sandals, which I was still getting used to. A couple of times, a misstep caused me to yelp and go tumbling and sliding off-balance, but I just about managed to right myself each time before I fell flat on my face. Perhaps a few miles of difficult walk later, I reached the edge of the lake and stopped a moment to catch my breath. The wind was less severe here, and the smell of pine sap was carried on the breeze; familiar from the curated little park near the MegaCorp building back on Earth. Then I truly felt the cold for the first time that day; my fingertips went numb and the skin was starting to redden. I wrapped the cloak tight around my arms and hopped up and down, trying to warm myself. My Constitution only goes so far, it seems. Then from the deep green of the snow-laden trees, two red orbs swayed into view. Low at first, then growing taller, and from the dark stepped a huge, heavy foot, throwing up a snow-bank. Spiked white fur went up a thick leg and its wide, barrel-like chest, and to its bestial, ape-like head. I touched the Analysis Card.
Fiend : Abominable, Level 19
Stats : Str 28, Dex 12, Con 18, Mnd 3
Attacks : Beat Chest, Body Slam, Crush, Pound, Suplex
Loot : Huge Spiked Pelt, Steel Fang, Abominable Heart
Weakness : Slow windup
XP : 102
The only thing that I really took in was that final number. 102! That¡¯d get me straight up to and past Level 2 and nearly all the way to Level 3! I licked my lips. Come to Papa. I slipped my shield off my shoulder, gripped the leather strap tight and rested my spear along it like I¡¯d seen in a cool retro film about shirtless Spartans, and edged forwards. The yeti remained stationary for another moment, watching, its bright red eyes blinked once. Then it exploded out of the pine wood, a small tree splintered in its wake as it brought its massive, girder-thick arms out to the side. One leap forwards and it covered half the distance, then slammed its knuckles again and again into its chest. BOOM. Mind-numbing, bone-trembling echoes boomed out of its sternum and ricocheted off the surface of the lake behind me. Heavy gluts of snow were loosed from the heavy pine branches. An awful pain racked through my head. It leapt again, I crouched an inch and grit my teeth as the pain kept coming on and on, rooting me to the spot. A heartbeat away from impact, and terror hit me full in the mind. [Battle Tactics] came on. A sharp scream overtook my mind. Far too late: RUN! The full force of the yeti slammed into my shield, my arm bent almost to breaking and I was thrown backwards and away six yards like a thrown shot. Silence and wind. The creaking of a broken shield. The roar and echo reverberated through my brain ¡ª I couldn¡¯t shift my body for the landing. SLAM my back found the floor with a crunch. Bleary-eyed, I struggled to a foot and knee and spun my head around, trying to level my gaze at the beast. Relentless, eyes burning red, it leapt from the bank and sailed over the ice above me. It took every ounce of Strength I had to reach deep, a fourth [Vigour] gave me enough to roll over and I felt it land with a sickening thud and crack on the ice where my face had just been. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. My Wooden Shield had a ghastly rend through the centre of it ¡ª the wood barely held together by a thin line of hammered bronze. The yeti roared again, its wide mouth spitting bile. It raised both its arms above its head. The Bronze Spear forgotten at my side, I brought my shield up and held it strong against both forearms. The IMPACT of the first blow still shuddered through my frame, then the second came and splintered the shield. Shards of wood exploded either side of me and over my chest as I was left holding only the leather grip and the crumpled bronze. My arms were beaten, bruised and bloody. I glanced up at it, wordless panic and fumbling, but managed to look it straight in the eyes ¡ª FULL BLOODY FURY looked back at me. It raised a dustbin-lid-sized fist again. Then there was a whirring noise, and a faint flash against the white-grey sky. A World Gate tore open high above the yeti¡¯s shoulders. Even in its frenzy, it flinched at the noise and light and raised its head. From the World Gate, a man appeared, if he could be called such. He was a rippling mass of honed and controlled muscle, his entire body a weapon. Through handsome human features gleamed bright eyes and shining, elongated wolf teeth. Bare and violent in almost every way, all he wore was the bottom half of a chiton ¡ª basically an airy white skirt. In the moment, I frantically crawled away backwards, but did not dare avert my eyes from the scene. The man and the yeti roared at each other as he plummeted towards the ground. The yeti brought an arm around to swat him out of the air, but in one movement the man twisted his body fully about and avoided it by a hair, as if by instinct. He landed hard on the yeti¡¯s shoulders and linking his fists together and high above his head, brought them down with another wild cry onto the yeti¡¯s face. Blood sprayed out in a cloud and the yeti staggered. Still aloft, a leg over each shoulder, the man brought his fists up again and DOWN with a crunch. The spiked beast let out a muffled roar, then brought its arms up and slammed hard into the man¡¯s shoulders, gripping strong. The man¡¯s eyes widened and his teeth clenched as he raised his arms again. A brittle crushing filled the air as he landed his fists again and again, bringing red streaks with them, covering the ice in a hot, scarlet mist. The yeti¡¯s arms went limp at its sides as the barrage continued. Then it dropped to its knees, then began to fall backwards. I scrambled further away as the enormous shadow loomed and fell and slammed down, breaking ice just inches in front of me and sending whining cracks into the surface of the lake which sang off the mountains. Another hammer blow, and another. The yeti twitched and its head became pulp. Drenched in gore, panting like a wild animal, red hair a mess over his face and neck, the man straightened his back and howled into the bleak wilderness. The echoes bounded for a long while, and all I could do was stare. Quiet fell over the twisted Shards of Korgoth. I tossed the useless grip of my splintered shield aside, scrambled to my feet and found my spear. I put some distance between myself and the man. Great bursts of steam rose from his shoulders as he heaved on the frozen lake, standing and swaying. ¡°Who ¡ª who are you? S-speak!¡± My command whispered hoarsely out of me. The man¡¯s flashing eyes met mine, and blinking, he noticed me for what seemed to be the first time. He wiped his face free of blood and pushed his hands back through his hair. ¡°Who am I?¡± His voice was imperious and deep, and accented, but I couldn¡¯t place it. He took a step towards me. ¡°D-don¡¯t come any closer!¡± I shifted backwards again, my spearhead bounced at its full extent. He took another step. ¡°I am the Prowling Beast! I am the savagery that even the wind fears! I am the Combative Flame! I am Alator!¡± That stopped me in my tracks. Despite the bloody carcass beside us, his handiwork ¡ª what had become of the enormous Abominable creature that had been quite simply and easily about to take my life ¡ª I couldn¡¯t help but stand still, cringe and shake my head. The LARP was too intense; it was simply too embarrassing for him to have been from Earth. ¡°It¡¯s gotta be a New Worlds character. . . . Or do NPCs exist?¡± // SYS : No, there are no characters that are directly controlled by a System. Everyone within a New World is a person ¡ª as much as Earthlings are, anyway. // The energy shifted in the air, the last of the bouncing echoes of howl and screeching ice left my ears, and my blood began to cool. ¡°There is nothing peace-y about me. I am the Prowling Be¡ª¡± ¡°I heard ¡ª your wind is really scary. I¡¯m Talbot. Let me ¡ª let me check your Stats.¡± I put a finger to the Analysis Card. // SYS ERR 69 : No profile found. // ¡°Nice ¡ª uh ¡ª this is odd. . . . I¡¯m new to this, I don¡¯t. . . .¡± // SYS : Creating profile based on available parameters. Loading. // My jaw dropped as the text started to ping up one-by-one above his head.
Name : Alator of the Wheel of the Sun, Level ?
Stats : Str ?, Dex ?, Con 28, Mnd ?
Skills : Battle Tactics Lvl 10 Influence Lvl 10 Survivalism Lvl 10 Vigour Lvl 10 Weapon Mastery Lvl 10
Special : Solar Flare
Weakness : Raging pride
Home : ?
// SYS ERR 69 : Unknown Level. Unknown Home World. // ¡°N-nice?¡± C5 : World-Eater Alator of the Wheel of the Sun dropped to the ground and put his ear to the ice. Frost immediately clung to his blood-wet hair. He stayed like this for some time, then leapt up again. I flinched again, leapt back and readied my spear. Then any burst of adrenaline evaporated like alcohol burnt away in a pan and true exhaustion suddenly crept towards me from a short distance, perhaps for the first time in my life. It latched on like heavy, reaching fingers that grasped at my joints and tried to hold me down. ¡°The foul influence is felt here, as well. . . .¡± Alator muttered, then turned to me. ¡°You¡¯re heavy-lidded. Had a long day?¡± his voice became gentle, the berserk pump receded. It was all I could do to stand there with the spear and nod, dumbly. He looked quickly around. ¡°The forest is terrible, predators in wait at every step, see the tracks here and here? Do you see those cruel eyes?¡± I couldn¡¯t see anything, but nodded again. He shrugged and glanced past me, then stretched out an arm. ¡°We¡¯ll find shelter in that alcove. You need a short rest,¡± he made to leave at a good pace, I stumbled forwards and tripped. Like lightning he was beside me, his eyes flashed golden then faded into a faint trail of smoke as he caught me upright. Something inside my blurred mind screamed Danger! so I pushed back off him and struggled to ready myself alone. ¡°Don¡¯t push yourself further than you need to, we are not in mortal danger,¡± he said matter-of-factly, with a level gaze. I nodded a third time, and followed behind him at a little distance. He walked barefoot over the snow, leaving very little imprint for his size. Crumbled from the mountainside, there was a dark cave, no more than six paces deep, but as I staggered inside, the wind relented and the stone underfoot felt comparably warm. Collapsing in a heap at the back of the cave, I heaved myself to sit against the raw stone and stared at the man. He stood silhouetted against the white for a moment and gazed out into the wilderness, then turned and walked towards me. ¡°There was a fell wind, carried with it a beast¡¯s stink, but it¡¯s fading ¡ª we are safe,¡± he said with some convixion. Fell wind, right. The mystery behind the man was coming up hard against my exhaustion. Rightly it was probably only just past noon, but my body was leaden with exertion. Reaching into that clear stream of power within me, searching for my Skills, I found them all waiting there, but they were deep beneath the surface, and even just bringing them into focus was taxing. I left them there beneath the waters and brought my focus back to him. ¡°Are you feeling any better, Talbot?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m absolutely exhausted. This is my first day in a New World, I don¡¯t know how these Skills work, I¡¯ve never pushed myself this hard!¡± I chuckled grimly, ¡°An hour at the MegaCorp gym hasn¡¯t prepared me very well, I guess.¡± ¡°There¡¯s a lot there I don¡¯t understand. . . . But first, where am I?¡± Alator asked. I blinked at him. ¡°This region is called the Shards of Korgoth ¡ª I assume that¡¯s the name of a giant that fell here. These peaks are the remnants of its ribcage.¡± ¡°Such a colossal beast!¡± He ran to the exit and peered upwards to the sky, where the glistening spires reached to the white clouds above. As he stared, a wry smile across his face, I tried to adjust myself to find comfort against the stone. ¡°You just came through the Barbican Gate, right?¡± I asked. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s . . . the Gate to the New World . . . called Barbican. That¡¯s where you are.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never heard ¡ª I¡¯m in a whole other world?¡± He looked back at me and closed the distance, then squatted and brought his face close, only a few inches from mine. ¡°Moments before I fell atop that spiked monster, I found myself pulled from my home in a rush of bronze light. A peculiar woman¡¯s voice, somehow metallic, spoke to me. She told me that I was a Warrior of the Gods, and that I was needed to avert catastrophe.¡± He spoke so openly, and emotions played on his face so freely that I was a little taken aback. I remembered that SYS had told me something similar, before the terror and panic of the ritual chamber in Ur-Kadesh. Then it came screaming back to me: the beastly thing, the ridged blackness and colossal, fanged maw, and the palpable, otherworldly hunger shivered through my body. ¡°I heard the same thing ¡ª a Warrior of the Gods, Guardian of the New Worlds. . . . Though I chose to come to this world. You were pulled here?¡± Maybe this sort of thing happens often, maybe he¡¯s from another New World and SYS just wanted to mix things up. Might just be that sense of humour, again. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Against my will and entirely unknowing, yes. But there is, here, that foul influence that befell my world.¡± I shook my head. ¡°I felt it beneath the lake, or else it was suffused through the ice. I feel it even now ¡ª on the air.¡± ¡°So what exactly does that feel like?¡± Without missing a beat, his eyes went cold and his voice fell from him like grinding granite: ¡°Like a knife in my spine, like my ribs stretched open and my heart torn free. In my world, we were encroached upon by an impossibly powerful force, an entity from beyond the stars, a nemesis, a cruel and terrible malice, an evil seemingly without reason ¡ª we called it a World-Eater.¡± That¡¯s what I saw in the liminal space before I entered the World. Must be the final boss? I¡¯m erring on the side of witty SYS playing with me, at this point. BZZ. // SYS : I¡¯m not playing with you. // By Jove! You can hear my thoughts, huh? // SYS : Only when they are directed towards me. This way you can ask me questions secretly. // What is the World-Eater? // SYS : We do not know. // Okay. . . . I remember there was a figure that looked like he was made out of light. Who was that man who was fighting it? Did he survive? // SYS : I saw no such man. // Forget it. As an aside, could you buzz less loudly when you appear? Or maybe appear a little further away than a half-inch from my ear? // SYS : . . . // Hello? SYS? // SYS : If you said something, I didn¡¯t hear it. You must not have been directing it to me properly. // SYS, do you think you can make less noise when you appear? // SYS : . . . // Such a great sense of humour. // SYS : . . . Thank you. // I sighed. ¡°The voice you heard before you fell into this world is known as a System, or a SYS for short. They¡¯ve a manner of control over this World, and act as guides to those within it. As far as I know, every traveller from a different World is assigned their own SYS.¡± Alator¡¯s eyes darkened and he fell to silence, lost in thought. I gave him a moment, then he asked, ¡°Am I able to return home ¡ª back to my World?¡± I addressed the little bronze sphere. So . . . there aren¡¯t any such thing as NPCs, this guy is from a New World, but one that¡¯s not connected to Earth via a Gate? Its unblinking blue eye looked between us both. Alator''s eyes were locked on mine. // SYS : Yes, I unfurled the divine rules of all New Worlds and plucked him from somewhere forgotten and disconnected ¡ª all I know is that it was a savage world, wherein he became more beast than man. // ¡°Ah, apparently you don¡¯t have your own SYS ¡ª my SYS brought you here.¡± As a single RUSH, he grabbed the stiff collar of my Linothorax and with one arm lifted me up to my feet then off the ground and against the wall. In the moment I reached for my Bronze Spear but was aloft before I reached it. His fist pushed into my throat. I tried to twist and struggled, but intense weakness still throbbed through my body. Within my mind''s eye, I reached to the Skills I was becoming reliant on, but couldn''t muster the ability in the panic. ¡°Get . . . get off,¡± my fingers fumbled uselessly about an iron grip. ¡°Send ¡ª me ¡ª back.¡± The golden glow returned to his eyes and the stream of gold mist or smoke drifted from them. His glistening, savage teeth were bared. The back of my head scraped against the stone behind me as I was pushed higher up. Send him back! SYS, he¡¯s going to kill me! // SYS : . . . // You bitch! ¡°I can¡¯t! I can¡¯t control her, she¡¯s not responding!¡± He held me aloft for another few moments, his fist shaking rage, the muscles in his forearm like twisted cords under taut skin. Then the golden glow relented, he shook his head and lowered me back towards the ground. ¡°Sorry,¡± I coughed, rubbing my neck. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do. Let me . . .¡± Is there any way for him to find home again? // SYS : There is one way. // My heart skipped, then dropped. Defeating the World-Eater? // SYS : You¡¯re sharp ¡ª yes, that¡¯s why I¡¯ve brought him here. // You don''t even know what it is! // SYS : I know it eats Worlds. // I relayed this to Alator. ¡°Cruel Fates. It seems Vulcan¡¯s hideous jests continue to find me.¡± ¡°Yes, well. . . . Having defeated it in your world, it should be easy enough to do so in ours?¡± His eyes glazed over, an intense hurt screwed up his face and his brows met in a ghastly V. "It was not defeated." I shrugged. "But you''re still alive, so you managed to fight it and live to tell the tale. Maybe with the two of us, we can do one better?" He lifted his hand, made a fist, and stared at it. There were lines of gold, like the gilded veins on cracked pottery, running from his fingertips to his elbow; the veins pulsed and he gritted his teeth. ¡°I did not fight alone. And the small victory was accomplished at great sacrifice. You are not ready,¡± was all that he said. C6 : The Shards of Korgoth Alator remained in a dour mood for a while, and I settled as well I could into the stone face behind me. I laid out the Stonebear Cloak and found some semblance of comfort. While listening to the howling winds come and go, and the accompanying cries or barks of fiends, I intermittently reached within myself for my Skills, feeling them still distant. After a long period of silence, I felt a weight lift from my mind and my chest. I centred myself again and found, in my mind¡¯s eye, those shining points of power, as if only inches beneath clear, running water. I basked in the stream of my energy for a moment, feeling it warm me, but did not reach out and pick one up. ¡°I¡¯m recovered,¡± I announced. He paced smoothly over to my spear, kicked it up into the air, caught it with a snap of his arm, and spun the pole towards me, offering. ¡°Fully recovered?¡± I took it and with the support, pulled myself to my feet. As I did so, I realised I truly did feel better. Not only had the Skills recharged, but alongside it, my brief respite had returned all my muscles to full usefulness, as they would on Earth only with a full night¡¯s sleep. I nodded. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°There are a thousand ways in which you are not ready. You will need wild, breakneck progress if you are to assist me in our charge in any way.¡± Harsh way to put it, but fair. I¡¯m not completely sold on our ¡®charge,¡¯ but. . . . ¡°Killing monsters grants the most Experience,¡± I suggested. ¡°Odd phrasing, but I tend to agree. In at the deep end ¡ª you swim or you drown. Talbot, what did you learn from the spiked beast earlier?¡± Three or four sarcastic responses came to mind instantly, but instead I stopped and thought for a moment. ¡°I learnt only the gulf between my power and that of a true beast,¡± I glanced at Alator; he needn¡¯t know I was referring to him. ¡°Quite,¡± he nodded, then cracked his neck left then right. ¡°And you cannot rely on equipment.¡± A quick F for the shortest-lived Wooden Shield in all of Barbican. Then I had another thought. Technically, I assisted in the killing of the yeti. SYS, did I get any Experience from the yeti fight? // SYS : Yes, Talbot. For your stunningly idiotic behaviour, you inexplicably gained 51 XP when Alator defeated the Abominable. You now have 105 and need 75 total for the next Level. // I could do without the jibes. So I have enough to level up, right? Get me to Level 2! // SYS : Which passive Stat would you like to improve? // I get to choose one every Level? // SYS : That¡¯s right ¡ª your passive Stats improve through levelling with XP, while your active Skills improve through use. Be wary, however, that your body will atrophy more severely than on Earth through underuse ¡ª I dare say your Mind Stat¡¯s ready to drop a few points. // Good one. I stole another look at Alator ¡ª his vicious body, his intimidating frame. Strength. It¡¯s got to be Strength. // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 2. Your Strength Stat has increased to 9. You have 30 XP remaining. // I jumped a few times on my toes, without [Vigour], just with my 9 Strength and bent knees, and cleaned a full yard, yard-and-half, into the air, brushing the roof of the cave. ¡°Ah, that feels great!¡± It¡¯s a small improvement, but when it¡¯s on your own body, it feels like the result of weeks of training surging through you in a moment. Also, to my eyes, at least, my arms and thighs were subtly more defined than a few moments before. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°I am glad you are recovered. But now we hunt.¡± I thudded the butt of my spear against the ground. ¡°Gladly!¡± Alator inhaled loudly and blew out his cheeks, then stretched out upwards, all his joints noisily popping, then bridged and did a back walkover. Wonder how much Dexterity I¡¯d need to achieve that. SYS, are these changes to my body permanent? // SYS : Yes, you are permanently altering your body by levelling up. I would hope you¡¯d be aware of this, but you keep referring to this World in videogame terms, so just to ensure your grasp on reality; if you die in Barbican, you die in every World ¡ª you would be dead. // Slightly more menacingly answer than was required by the question I had asked. So if I levelled Mind up a whole bunch, then returned to Earth, I¡¯d be much more intelligent? // SYS : Yes. // Unbelievable! Why doesn¡¯t everyone do this? Is that why some people are CEOs and some people are drones at a MegaCorp? Did they just get lucky against a few yetis? // SYS : No. Firstly, NO ONE gets lucky against a few yetis. Secondly, this isn¡¯t a reliable process of self-improvement due to the extremely high chance of an agonising death. Unfortunately, the CEO might have relied on nepotism or blackmail to achieve their position, or else they might have just been much better at the job than you. // Than me? Why do you think ¡ª oh, forget it. I followed Alator out of the cave. We both breathed deeply in, the cold air pricking our lungs relatively comfortably, like gulping cold water on a hot day. My companion surveyed the landscape, and I felt a ripple of power from him as his eyes glowed golden for a half-second. ¡°An hour in that direction ¡ª something mindless and shambling ¡ª something that deserves death.¡± We set off without another word. Every now and then I fingered the Analysis Card in my pouch and looked over at Alator to confirm there hadn¡¯t been a mistake. It still showed mostly question marks, the incredibly high Constitution Stat and that mysterious [Solar Flare] Special. And his weakness . . . Rageful pride . . . I could see how that could be exploited. Between two of the rib-like spires that make up the Shards of Korgoth, we found a deep trench that dipped sharply beneath the earth. With each gust of wind, snow was loosed from the sides and drifted down into the dark depths, to settle somewhere out of sight. Alator continued unabated. He leant backwards and took each step at a leap, as if abseiling forwards, steady feet skidding to a halt each time. I licked my lips and prepared myself to do the same. I leant back to the same sort of angle as Alator had, and instantly lost my footing and began to slide down. ¡°Incoming!¡± As instinct, Alator barely turned his head to know where I was, and just before I reached him, he leapt over me, allowing me to pass beneath. I¡¯d avoided too much humiliation ¡ª I hadn¡¯t knocked him over, nor yelped too loudly ¡ª but the slope didn¡¯t end there. I scrambled for a hold, anything to slow my descent, but chunks of earth broke off in my hand and my feet continued to kick and break through mounds of snow. Further and further down into the earth I sped, gaining momentum, until all light was a sliver far above my head and about me was only undulating darkness. Eventually, at long, long last, the slope became less steep, and began to level out. With some effort, but no Skill use, I plunged my spear into the packed earth at my shoulder and managed to right myself and stop sliding. By the time Alator had caught me up, I¡¯d patted myself down and done the best I could to regain some composure. ¡°Much faster, but reckless, Talbot,¡± he wagged his finger like a father to a mischievous son. I forced a laugh. Let him think it was intentional! ¡°Ah, just seemed like a bit of fun, is all!¡± ¡°H¡¯m,¡± he said, and moved past me. Another ripple of energy, but this time, in the near complete darkness, it was accompanied by a lingering yellow flash as his eyes lit up like burning torches. Before the light faded, I made out a figure in the far distance. Ragged clothes draped over a skeletal figure, a little taller than a man, bearing a glinting black knife at its side. Its head hung loosely to one side, listlessly staring at the wall nearest it. Analysis.
Fiend : Korgoth Spawn, Level 3
Stats : Str 6, Dex 6, Con 30, Mnd 1
Attacks : Lunging Blade, Maddening Bite
Loot : Obsidian Dagger, Ignis Fatuus
Weakness : Tires quickly
XP : 30
¡°What¡¯s with that Constitution?¡± ¡°Well-noticed,¡± Alator answered my question in his own na?ve way: ¡°It seems this one won¡¯t go down without consistent overwhelming force. Ready yourself ¡ª it¡¯s faster than it looks.¡± The walls pressed in tightly, giving only perhaps a single foot on either side of my shoulders. I hesitantly reached for [Battle Tactics] and happily it came through instantly. Along with an awareness of danger and a few pricks of insight, an excitement lit my insides. Shouldn¡¯t be a problem with my spear. Keep it at a distance. Pockmark it. Break its bones. It¡¯ll only have a couple of lunges in it. Just don¡¯t get bitten. C7 : Skeleton in the Trench I felt that violent smile creep over my lips again as I stood tall and brought back my spear, then advanced on the Korgoth Spawn cautiously, step by step. With less than ten paces to go, I became impatient, and made to run and stab the thing instantly through the skull. The MOMENT I¡¯d decided on rash action, the skeleton spun and threw its arms wide, then lunged for me, swiping its knife left and right ¡ª full range of motion in the tight space. With [Vigour] I launched myself backwards and with [Weapon Mastery], I returned my own swift stab, letting the spear slide down so I held only the final two inches of the pole. Bronze pierced the skeleton¡¯s ribs, cracked bone spraying dust, but I didn¡¯t feel much of an impact ¡ª there was no body aside from the bones. Something other than organs held this fiend together. Still with [Vigour] coursing through me, I drew the spear back and closed the distance again, then thrust hard, this time into the skeleton¡¯s skull. Half through an eye socket and half through a brittle cheekbone, the back of its skull exploded as if hit by a bullet. But it kept coming on. It moaned and groaned, the sharp bones of it neck reverberated with a sound eerily similar to the howls carried on the winds above. I sent a quick glance back to Alator, only to see him climbing vertically up the side of the wall, gaining a vantage point. He stuck his legs out either side and held himself aloft, waiting for an opening ¡ª or anticipating his having to jump in. The echo of [Battle Tactics] told me the skeleton didn¡¯t have much left in him. I can do this! It slouched forwards again with that frightening, surprising speed. Dodging wildly, the knife flew harmlessly two-inch over my shoulder. I met its body full-on, and it almost crumpled like paper, falling onto mine in exhaustion. Utilising every ounce of the new Strength in my muscles, I THREW the skeleton backwards, sent it sprawling on the floor. Then I brought back the spear and thrust, then again and again, like a fencer with a rapier I cut and stabbed into every part of the fiend where it lay. Broken bone sprinkled like shards of china in the darkness, clattering against my body and the close walls. After a dozen hard hits, spearhead on dirt and stone, I felt a hand on my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± Alator¡¯s gentle voice pierced the red veil. Eyes ablur, I looked between him and the fiend ¡ª a pile of unmoving bones on the floor. // SYS : You have gained 30 XP for defeating the Korgoth Spawn. You now have 60 and need 82 total for the next Level. // ¡°Another!¡± I yelled into the darkness of the trench. Unfortunately, only my own voice echoed back to me. A semblance of calm returning to me, action hormones fading, I walked over to the bones. I found the Obsidian Knife it had and tied it onto my belt, then looked it over properly. The bones were cracked and sundered in a thousand places, but there was still a light deep within its eyes. I reached through the splintered skull and my fist closed around a small orb. The Analysis Card told me this was an Ignis Fatuus, whatever that meant. It emitted a soft white glow, felt cold to the touch, and even made me uneasy to hold. I felt something creeping up my spine, but rubbing the place I felt nothing. I stuffed it into my pouch. XP, and loot, to boot! A proper kill in a proper (sort-of) dungeon! The visceral lived experience was of course absolutely different from any game I¡¯d ever played, but at least some things worked that way. I waited for the oncoming dizziness and sway, but it didn¡¯t come; one use of each Skill didn¡¯t bring on any ill effects. ¡°I¡¯ve another one of them in me!¡± I laughed to Alator. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. He grinned widely, sharp teeth glistening in the dark. Again I felt an odd paternal presence as his eyes showed pride, and then perhaps a little melancholy. . . . He turned away from my staring and said aside, as he started to walk off: ¡°Unfortunately there aren¡¯t any others that I can sense. Let¡¯s get aboveground.¡± I red-faced brushed fragments of bone from my Linothorax and followed him back up the slope and back to the light. At many points in the journey back up, Alator heard me slip and span and offered a steady hand, which even with my low Dexterity I managed to catch . . . most of the time. A couple of times I slid down a yard before he grabbed the scruff of my neck and yanked me back up. Cresting over the lip of the ridge, we saw the clouds were darkened. That moment, there was an intense twisting pain in my stomach, accompanied by a loud grumble. For a moment I winced and almost doubled over, then I realised it was hunger! Food! I¡¯d forgotten that I¡¯d have to eat food! ¡°Uh ¡ª we might need to find some food.¡± ¡°I heard,¡± Alator cocked his head. ¡°When was the last time you ate?¡± ¡°This morning, but I only had a small calo-pouch. You know, like vits and mins and veggies in a sort of pur¨¦e, you squirt it into your mouth.¡± Absolute bewilderment. ¡°Sounds ghastly. . . .¡± Yeah, I guess it is, actually. . . . To be honest, though, that¡¯s pretty much all I ever eat. ¡°So you have to eat multiple times a day?¡± Alator asked as I rubbed my stomach. ¡°Yes, Alator,¡± I scoffed at him incredulously. ¡°I have to eat multiple times a day.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± He huffed and rapped his fingers on one of the bleached bone Shards, then glanced about the ground, seemingly looking for tracks. ¡°I don¡¯t know this place at all. Even if we hunted, I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m looking for.¡± My heart sank as I realised the only course of action. ¡°We have to go back to Ur-Kadesh. Ugh, bollix, I should have bought some rations from that Haggler at the gate.¡± ¡°Hate hagglers,¡± Alator muttered. ¡°Me too! Just price your goods at what they¡¯re worth, for Pete¡¯s sake.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a point of pride for many ¡ª reaching a price that both sides can agree on. Hate it.¡± We made back to the frozen lake, keeping to the open in case there was an opportunity to gain XP, but unfortunately no fiends made themselves known, and Alator didn¡¯t sense any as we moved. Then back along the oream goat¡¯s path ¡ª I still hadn¡¯t seen an oream goat, just heard the words from Kikiara, maybe they¡¯d be good eating ¡ª and we climbed the slope that was the foothills of the mountain into which Ur-Kadesh had been carved. ¡°What to tell you about this city. . . . It¡¯s dark, pretty gross, underground. There¡¯s a man called Yorrick there who probably wants to punch my lights out, and almost certainly will.¡± ¡°For good reason?¡± Alator shot back without a thought. ¡°In what world is that sort of violence ever for good reason?¡± Alator raised an arm and indicated the wastes. The wind carried howls that sounded like the vibrations of cursed souls, and dry blood was still caked onto his neck and bare chest. ¡°Yeah, okay. Well no, he was slightly rude to me so I threatened to kill him.¡± My companion just nodded, like that made perfect sense, too. SYS said that Alator was from a savage world, and it was one which the World-Eater had ravaged in some way. My mind blanched for a moment at the memory of the Something with ridged bones and purple-black fangs, and imagined the damage it would do to Earth if it got there. I mean, it wouldn¡¯t be so bad if it was a MegaCorp-Eater, or like a Supermarket-Eater, maybe, but World-Eater? And I¡¯m supposed to stop that thing somehow? Best not to think about it. . . . Twilight came on fast and was chased by nightfall. Up the last leg of the hill ¡ª felt MUCH longer on the way up than when I ran and leapt down it earlier in the day, I used the Bronze Spear as a walking stick most of the way ¡ª we came to the bronze gates of Ur-Kadesh. It hadn¡¯t snowed anew, but the drag-lines from Kikiara¡¯s Abominable kill had long been covered over by shifting winds. ¡°Damn, Jothar must have packed up,¡± I said as we walked down the corridor into the city. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you rather hold out for freshly-cooked food, instead? We¡¯ll find somewhere proper.¡± Freshly-cooked food? I can¡¯t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal. My mum kicked me out when I turned 16 and I¡¯d pretty much just been eating calo-pouches and the odd takeaway meal, when I could afford it. Struck me as some cruel irony that it took me travelling to some barbaric land before I could eat some real food. C8 : Return to Ur-Kadesh We carried along the path and came to the start of the bright molten bronze veins that ran through the walls. Alator approached one and held his hand to it. ¡°It¡¯s hot! This is liquid metal running through the walls of the mountain! How does something like this happen?¡± I shrugged. His excitement was a bit infectious, however, and I felt myself marvel at a few aspects of the city as we passed. One of the pillars on our right, carved to resemble a warg¡¯s head, dripped crimson into a trough at our feet, which passed alongside us for a little while down the path before dropping through the ground. ¡°Foul! This carries the stink of blood! Of fiend or man?¡± Good question. As it poured underneath, the place opened up to the main cavern and we forgot the query as the thousand dim lights that made up Ur-Kadesh at night glittered before our eyes. Where during the day it felt near-abandoned, an aching silence marked only by the grumbling of craftsmen and the ringing of hammers on anvils, at night it absolutely pulsed with movement. Humanoid energy murmured beneath us, and from our vantage point high above we could see three or four main streets heaving with excited bodies. As we neared the hubbub, to my surprise, Alator moved up close to me, even reached out and touched my arm every now and then. He didn¡¯t drop his eyes or stare at the floor, though I could tell part of him would like to, but instead scanned the area, flinching and starting at every sudden noise. A loud group of men passed bearing long scythe-like axes, and as they did they pointed at us both and whispered. I felt a ripple of irritation from Alator and, for a few minutes at least, the sheepish discomfort left him. He puffed out his chest and held his chin up high, and kept his bare shoulders raised and tense. To strangers, I¡¯m sure he seemed purely intimidating, but having glimpsed another side of him, I saw this more like a cornered animal making themselves look big. We turned onto one of the main streets and instantly found more than a handful of places that sold piping-hot food. We joined the queue of one of them almost at random. ¡°Hullo there! If I may compliment you, you don¡¯t look local! So what¡¯ll it be? We have fire-grilled kheft skewers ¡ª spiced cuts of the kheft bird, marinated in tangy fermented fruit and dusted with crushed herbs, a smoky, savoury bite that lingers on the tongue. There¡¯s honeyed emberfruit ¡ª a sweet treat from the glowing orange fruits of the ember trees, delivered to us weekly from the volcanic basalt groves of Akhur''shet. We also have fresh, soft bloodrice cakes ¡ª crispy on the outside, full of kefir cream and golden onions, a favourite to satisfy after late-night revelry!¡± ¡°Two of each!¡± I handed over the three pieces of copper he asked for, which he gladly took, and we found a set of stone steps in a relatively quiet courtyard to eat. The food was phenomenal. Tangy, as the seller had said, sometimes almost to being bitter, but each flavour was familiar and yet unique and I made sure to savour every last morsel. Alator took a little while to stare at his food and throw pieces of burnt herbs or crispy bloodrice away, before consuming the rest like a vacuum in a matter of seconds. As we were finishing up, I heard a call from across the way: ¡°Talbot!¡± Yorrick paced over to us, a lackey at either shoulder. The man stood tall, barrel-chested, and had meat juices smeared over his scarred face. As he approached, he absent-mindedly fiddled with the trophy-rope around his neck, upon which dangled long fangs, thick, coloured feathers, and a few human ears. Alator palmed the two skewers and steadied them against his thumb. I felt a bubble of aggression waver beside me and I raised a hand at him to try to calm him. ¡°This the man who insulted you?¡± I nodded. ¡°Hey, Yorrick. Still hanging around Ur-Kadesh scaring newcomers?¡± The man laughed, threw an elbow into the lackey beside him, who laughed as well. The men on either side of him were similarly thuggish, but less well-trained. Straightening my back on the stone steps in the plazza, I put a hand into the pouch and reached for the Analysis Card.
Name : Yorrick the Collector, Level 9
Stats : Str 12, Dex 7, Con 7, Mnd 4
Skills : Battle Tactics Lvl 2 Vigour Lvl 2 Weapon Mastery Lvl 1
Special : Give And Take
Inventory : Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Iron Longsword, Iron Scale Mail, 27 Copper Coins
Weakness : Craves the spotlight
Home : Poland, Earth
Name : Thalnor the Scarred, Level 4
Stats : Str 6, Dex 3, Con 6, Mnd 3
Weakness : Fearful of fire
Inventory : Bronze Axe, Boar-Hide Shield, Mead Flask, Caltrops.
Home : Ur-Kadesh, Barbican
Name : Morrak the Quiet, Level 5
Stats : Str 5, Dex 8, Con 4, Mnd 3
Skills : Shadowcraft Lvl 1
Weakness : Vulnerable to flattery
Inventory : Bronze Dagger, Hemp Rope, Venom Vial, Bone Lockpicks
Home : Ur-Kadesh, Barbican
SYS, why can¡¯t I see Thalnor¡¯s Skills or their Special? // SYS : They do not have any ¡ª these are class features bestowed upon users of the World Gates ¡ª those who have never left must earn their Skills and develop their Specials themselves, without a System to guide them. Clearly that one has not as yet been up to the task. Careful of the other, though ¡ª Shadowcraft can be tricky to deal with; if you take your eyes off him you might completely lose track of where he is. // ¡°Back with your tail between your legs, eh, Talbot? Outside life not really for you? Or d¡¯you level up to 10 in a single day and decide on that greatsword?¡± My ears burnt and my jaw clenched. With his [Vigour] at Lvl 2, I do not want to push my luck. But something about him got under my skin. Feeling my hackles raise, it was Alator¡¯s turn to bring my temperature down . . . perhaps unsurprisingly, he did nothing of the sort. Instead, a thin smile crept over his lips. ¡°Old man,¡± Alator whispered, ¡°Leave us to peace before we chase you off.¡± Yorrick¡¯s roadmap of scars throbbed red, then he forced them to twist into a cruel grin. ¡°I can see between your legs,¡± Yorrick spat, leaning down, ¡°& you¡¯re barely growing hairs. Who are you, anyway? The pup picked up a stray? You don¡¯t have any armour, or weapons. Not like this one,¡± the aged soldier slowly drew his Iron Sword, the well-used and oft-sharpened razor-edge rasping against the sheath as he did. Alator blew out his cheeks and leant back on the steps, using one of the bare skewers to pick his teeth. Yorrick squared up and took a step towards us ¡ª quick, how to exploit those weaknesses. . . . Ah, of course! I turned my head to one of the men behind him. ¡°Hold on, I know you, don¡¯t I?¡± He was a slender man in his late 30s, had a pale, bald head and wore his cloth and leather armour dyed black and tied around his limbs to limit noise. He lifted a finger and pointed at himself. ¡°Yeah, you ¡ª it¡¯s Morrak, right?¡± The irritation emanating from Yorrick¡¯s pate was instant and obvious; he immediately started clicking his tongue and tapping his foot. The slender man nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve heard,¡± I continued, ¡°that you¡¯ve a particular set of skills; a bit of poison here, a touch of silent entry there, maybe an assassination or two?¡± Morrak beamed widely, his eyes rolling back in his head and his tongue, cut short and stubby, lolled out of his mouth, and he started to convulse in silent laughter. Yorrick instantly turned on his heel and punched the man hard in the shoulder with his free hand. The sword glinted in his left. ¡°Oi, eyes-on, if you want to earn that coin,¡± he spat at Morrak, who forced himself to stop laughing but was still staring at the high roof of the vast cavern and swaying, clearly replaying his exploits in his head. LIGHTNING-flash, I took the opportunity to activate [Vigour], drive myself off the step with a sharp piston-push, and throw my whole weight forwards. I clenched my fist through the screaming effort of my muscles, layered on another [Vigour], and slammed it into the side of his head. Yorrick sprawled. That neglected Constitution Stat''s not doing him any favours! He skidded along the cold stone slabs, limp. His two lackeys looked at each other and backed up, then picked Yorrick up at each arm. Gradually, Yorrick came to, his head flopping. The lackeys started to pull him away from the scene, but he broke free and stood, then stumbled and dropped, used his sword to steady himself like a crutch ¡ª the iron point sparked against the stone. ¡°D-don¡¯t let this place go to your head,¡± Yorrick grunted as he slouched away, holding his crown. ¡°This isn¡¯t over.¡± I stood panting, swaying with the sudden exertion of two Skill uses a moment apart from each other. He had drawn his sword, but hardly instigated it. I started, and ended, a fight in one punch. Even through the dizziness, I couldn¡¯t help bouncing on my toes a second. Maybe this place is just revealing my true self ¡ª who I have been all along, suppressed by office life and a diet of colourless sludge. However, in the event that my behaviour is being subtly altered by my choice of the Warrior class, or the [Berserk] Special (no idea what it is, yet), then it seems Alator is not going to slow down that process. ¡°Such an enabler,¡± I jeered. C9 : Shopping Episode My right fist throbbed from the punch, and my wrist cramped up when I stretched my twitching fingers out, sending a dull pain up my arm. Alator jumped up from the stair and hooted, punching the air. ¡°Well done, Troilos, I didn¡¯t think you had it in you!¡± ¡°Troilos?¡± ¡°Talbot, sorry ¡ª bloody good hit! Right in the jaw, sent him packing, tail between his legs!¡± He leapt up and ran over to me and grasped my shoulders, grinning. Again, his excitement was infectious, and we both broke hard and suddenly into an ugly and slightly crazy laughter. The surreality of the place, the dark shadows and hunched figures in the distance, the creepy pillars all around, dripping maybe-blood into the depths of the mountain below where ostensibly something called Kadesh subsists. . . . None of it mattered for a few short moments as in total abandon we roared merry. ¡°Haven¡¯t laughed like that since I was a kid,¡± I said, wiping tears from my eyes. ¡°Then you¡¯re leading a boring life!¡± Alator clapped my ribs. He¡¯s right ¡ª or, he was, until earlier that day. By Jove, it¡¯s only been one day! I feel like I¡¯ve been here for weeks! // SYS : Already feeling like a second home? Wouldn¡¯t it be awful if something happened to it? Or if something . . . ate this World? // Was I talking, thinking, to you? // SYS : . . . // ¡°We¡¯re well-fed, there¡¯s warmth and laughter on every corner, and some other less savoury things, I¡¯m sure ¡ª let¡¯s get some rest.¡± I nodded, still smiling dumbly. We found one of the main streets again and started ducking under thick linen curtains to find an inn or similar. The first few we went into were designed for . . . other activities. ¡°Look, Alator¡¯s pretty and all, but he¡¯s not my type,¡± I laughed to a red-dressed madam at the first establishment, thick dark red lipstick smeared over her lips and many too many sparkles in her eyes. Alator wasn¡¯t similarly amused. ¡°Let¡¯s move on,¡± he said, levelly. Eventually we found lodgings ¡ª a sort of shared space with wooden bunks and lumpy mattresses. I tossed a copper coin to the doorman and fell heavily onto one of the beds, and Alator found another. Sleep came on quickly and comfortably, and I enjoyed a fine, dreamless rest. A number of hours later, Alator shook me awake. ¡°Another few minutes, dad,¡± I murmured half-asleep, then woke bolt upright. ¡°Uh, sorry, let¡¯s get going.¡± I asked after a place to sell my loot and found a few stalls, while Alator wandered the city. Without any clue of how much things are worth, I played three merchants against each other and ended up getting twenty-two copper coins for the Obsidian Dagger, which seemed to me too brittle to be used for combat, but no one was interested in the Ignis Fatuus, the little enchanting white orb that I¡¯d taken from the skeleton¡¯s skull. ¡°Come on, look how cool it is!¡± I urged each time, but even such convincing and powerful phrases as this didn¡¯t help. Each merchant just shirked glances and shook their head. Then, defeated, I put it back into my pouch and walked to find Alator again. Ur-Kadesh during the day had dwindled again to that surly and lifeless shrug of a cavernous hole, the dull sickly yellow glow suffused the dusty, heavy air and the only sound bar unsettling murmurs were the clanging of blacksmiths'' hammers. Halfway down one of the main streets, a hand shot out of the darkness and caught my arm. ¡°Looking to sell that Ignis Fatuus?¡± The voice was cracking and bleak, muffled behind heavy cloth. I chose to step forwards towards it, pushing the curtain aside. A figure stood there, more creature than woman, with long, spindly fingers and a shaded, grey face with a texture straight out of the Dust Bowl. Even severely hunched, near folded in two, she met my eyeline. She was one of the same folk as those that had been performing the ritual I was subjected to when I first arrived in Barbican. I pulled my arm away, her strong grip broke and she yelped, and broke into a coughing fit. Dust spat out and she covered her veiled mouth with the sleeve of her dark robe. ¡°I can give you copper, or trade you.¡± She stretched up a touch, towering over me, and through dark eyes wherein sparkled faint points of light, I saw a desperate need. ¡°What use is it to you? I haven¡¯t had great experience with your kind,¡± I asked. Flinching, she recoiled a little, ¡°I assume you speak of the ritual-mad in the Chambers of the Dour Trachea. I am not like them. . . .¡± There was a silence and I just watched her through it, inviting her to continue. ¡°It would sustain me. I am dying.¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°What does it do?¡± Her gaze shirked, shifting weight from foot to foot, and she growled under her breath. Why didn¡¯t I think of this before? I took out the Ignis Fatuus, held it in my palm, then touched the Analysis Card with the other.
Item : Ignis Fatuus
Rarity : Rare
Description : Small glowing white orb
Effect : Moderate healing
I tried to think about how much healing items are worth in various games, but didn¡¯t settle on a good price. This woman certainly wouldn¡¯t give me much, but I couldn¡¯t in good conscience refuse . . . ¡°Ten copper and it¡¯s yours.¡± Her eyes widened with delight and her grey-black, wet tongue danced out of her lips. I shuddered as I extended my hands, and she counted out a half-handful of tiny coins into my palm and snatched the item with glee. She then pushed me with pretty considerable force back out onto the street. I slapped my Linothorax free of dust and set back off on my way to find Alator. He was waiting at the first of the line of columns that led up the narrow path to the way out. After smiling and hailing me, he clapped me on the shoulders. It has only been an hour or so since we last saw each other. . . . ¡°So, I learnt it was a few days to the next town, did you get some food for the journey?¡± ¡°Bollix,¡± I said, and jogged off in the opposite direction. At one of the stalls, they were selling Boar Jerky as rations, so I bought a net bag of them and stuffed my pouch full for two copper coins. I also bought a little bundle of Windbloom Herbs for one copper.
Item : Windbloom Herbs
Rarity : Common
Description : Thin, nearly transparent stems with long white petals
Effect : Minor healing
Back to Alator, he grinned and raised his hand again, like greeting an estranged friend. This time it¡¯d only been twenty minutes. ¡°Oh, I also meant to say,¡± he started, ¡°Your spearhead will be blunted after that skeleton fight, do you have a sharpening stone?¡± I peered at him with squinted eyes, then went back into the city to buy a Whetstone. Another two copper down. Also took the opportunity at the smithy to buy a new shield for four copper, and inspected them all, along with my weapon.
Item : Whetstone
Rarity : Common
Description : Ingot-shaped quartz stone
Effect : Sharpens edges through careful grinding and honing
Armour : Wooden Shield
Rarity : Common
Description : Light wooden shield bound with hammered bronze
Defence : Middling
Durability : Poor
Weapon : Bronze Spear
Rarity : Common
Description : Sturdy polearm of wood with a large, long bronze spearhead
Damage : Stabs or cuts
Yeah. Not sure what I was expecting, but it seems I¡¯m not always going to discover something ground-breaking. Hey, SYS, my only plan is to go in the vague direction of ¡®the rest of Barbican,¡¯ as Kikiara put it. Should I be heading to a specific place? How best to fulfil my destiny, O, Knowing One? // SYS : I actually quite like that nickname. . . . Anyway, you do not have a pre-set path. If this was a hero¡¯s adventure ¡ª humour me ¡ª then I think at this stage you would be trying to understand your power, attain new heights of ability, and make some new allies along the way. I ran back to Alator, he smiled and waved, then opened his mouth again. I cut across him: ¡°OKAY. We¡¯re off.¡± As we emerged from the darkness and gloom of the weird bipolar city, we saw from the vague filtered light above the clouds that it was already past noon. ¡°Best if we move quickly,¡± said my companion, an eye on the sky. ¡°I need to burn some of this frustration off,¡± I agreed, bouncing on my toes. Without a further word, Alator launched himself a dozen yards down the foothills. There was a flash of gold and flowing smoke came from his eyes as he tapped into ¡ª I assume ¡ª his Level 10 [Vigour]. He landed with a skid on the snow, caught himself for a moment, then jumped again. Stunned still for a moment, I made to run after him, throwing myself down the hill towards the wild savagery of Barbican. Hopefully towards more fiends and more XP! C10 : Pine and Venom Wary of too much Skill use outside battle, I just used Strength and my severely lacking Dexterity to sprint and run how I could. The way had changed slightly, even since yesterday, as it had snowed through the night. Bare stone or mountain rock which provided steady ground yesterday had been covered with inches of snow, and the cold winds had revealed others. It was only a little difference, but somehow it added more complexity to the journey. Procedurally generated, I joked. A few times, Alator pulled too far away from me, to the point I had to call him to slow a touch. ¡°Apologies, Talbot,¡± he¡¯d say each time I caught up, after five or six seconds of him walking, ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I travelled with a companion.¡± We passed the milestone, made our way down the goat path, and crossed the frozen lake without difficulty, and stopped at the edge of the pine forest. The tree-line was as foreboding as ever, even with the sun(s) as powerful as they ever can be in this frozen wasteland. With just a glance to each other, and a scan with Alator¡¯s learned eyes, we made forwards. Passing between the first few scattered trees, the wind relented as it had before, and underfoot became either hard, crunching needles or soft, sticky mulch ¡ª each step a little fraught. I could tell Alator wanted to pull away, every few minutes he looked back at me and had to wait for me to catch up. // SYS : Oh, and now the Sinews of Korgoth, will the terror never cease! Step lightly, for you¡¯ve entered a sky-hungry labyrinth, named so for the thick and gnarled trunks, reaching for stark sustenance like the twisted sinews of some ancient giant. See how the snow lies thick and heavy upon the forest floor, muffling sound and hiding countless dangers beneath its pristine surface ¡ª like the porcelain mask of the assassin at the ball before the strike! Behold, the relentless hush ¡ª overcome only by the creak of frostbitten wood and the far-off howl of unseen predators. The sky above? Ah, naught but a thin, bitter strip of grey, near lost behind jagged branches. And beware! For within this frozen clime, shadows move where there should be none, and the snow itself seems to breathe. // Been a while since the last SYS introduction, this one''s as over-the-top and maudlin as the previous two. Though, indeed, the forest put me on edge. Its trees were all deciduous pine, surviving, I assumed, by the warmth from deep beneath ¡ª we were on our way to Akhur''shet, which we heard described as volcanic. I saw ancient trees mostly dead, brown needles falling in sheets from their racked boughs, but I saw new shoots growing, even from beneath the permafrost where the snow had fallen through the canopy. But through the familiar life was a twisted otherworldliness ¡ª trees grew at all angles, and the canopy was much thicker in places than I¡¯d assumed it to be in a pine forest, leaving us in a strange dark twilight, where shadows crept in and small beasts lurked. ¡°Not worth dealing with,¡± Alator muttered as I shuddered at the sight of yellow eyes peering from the black. ¡°These aren¡¯t fiends, just starving predators.¡± Even so, I couldn¡¯t help keeping my head on a swivel, flinching at the crack of every broken branch, or the alien call of Barbican birds, touched even here by the corrupting energies of the Shards of Korgoth, or perhaps even by Kadesh. Eventually, as Alator glanced behind him for the umpteenth time, I felt, instead of unease, irritation at my incompetence, and started intermittently exploding [Vigour] to pull ahead. Our way took on a new energy as Alator would light up and give chase, almost keeping up with me even without the flashes of his own Skills. After a few hours we found a sunspot and found heavy rest on flat ground where the night¡¯s snow had melted into a wet blanket of moss and briar. Ignoring the spikes beneath my Linothorax and prickling my bare legs, I splayed out and panted on the dirt. The Skill use, only a handful of bursts of [Vigour], had already tired me out. SYS, is it Strength or Dexterity that gives that much ease of movement and stamina? I leant my head away but still the BUZZ made me jump as the little bronze sphere materialised beside my ear. // SYS : Both, Talbot. Strength drives the power within your muscles, the steadiness of your bones, but Dexterity provides grace, and accuracy ¡ª it might help you to think of Dexterity as also affecting your stabiliser muscles. The average human has abilities representing about 4¨C6 in the four Stats; Strength, Dexterity, Constitution and Mind. // So . . . I¡¯m on the low end of intelligence, then? // SYS : I couldn¡¯t possibly comment. // Funny ¡ª you usually do. Why would someone ever really choose to level Mind? // SYS : Perhaps you have to be clever in the first places. . . . For magic users, Mind enables stronger spells, or the ability to concentrate on them for longer, or on more than one at once. For others, it represents faster thinking, better rationalisation. With a high enough Mind, it would strain you less to utilise [Battle Tactics], for example. // Oh, that makes a lot of sense, actually. So, take [Vigour], this will be less tiring to use as I gain Strength, right? // SYS : That¡¯s right, and its effect will be more pronounced. You really didn¡¯t look up any of this, did you? // I looked over to Alator, who paced the edges of the clearing on watch, and touched the Analysis Card. SYS, why are most of his Stats listed as a question mark? I can only see Constitution. // SYS : An unfortunate peculiarity of the Analysis Card. It seems that if a respective Stat is more than six times higher than your own, you will not be able to divine it. As you use it, it will improve, and these bugs should get ironed out. It seems this isn¡¯t the case with Level or Home; those are separate issues pertaining specifically to Alator. // The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. It seems? Didn¡¯t you make this thing? // SYS : I . . . uncovered it. Even I¡¯m not sure of its true capability. Look, if you haven¡¯t cottoned on, Talbot, I¡¯ve not done this before. It isn¡¯t every day a World-Eater appears and threatens the very existence of all the New Worlds. // H¡¯m. Think I preferred the curt and sarcastic answers. I looked to Alator. This meant he had at least 37 Dexterity, a full 30 points over mine. He also had more than 24 Mind. My lagging behind and forgetfulness must be so infuriating to him. // SYS : Imagine how I must feel. // There she is. That¡¯s enough now, shoo. Bzz. As I was daydreaming about how it must feel to have that much power, Alator hissed from the tree-edge. I groaned to my feet and moved to him. ¡°Eighty yards over ¡ª a wounded warg. Can¡¯t tell what wounded it, though, so it might be better to ¡ª¡± I didn¡¯t wait to hear the rest. I need to level up. I felt a profound need to get stronger. Stamping hard through the scant ferns and ducking under low-hanging branches, I rocketed in the direction Alator pointed. Briar scratched my shins and pine needles grazed my shoulders. I spied the Warg, flat on its belly, its human-like head turned away from me. The last few paces were made with great effort and discomfort; the Skill use felt like a cold pressure on my skin. Still, I reached deeply into that slow-flowing river and found the point of light wherein my potential lay, and pumped [Weapon Mastery] into my mind and blood for good measure. With a roar, I leapt the last distance and thrust my spear. The fiend started and struggled to stand, but the bronze point passed between the Warg¡¯s ribs, stopping its heart. // SYS : As this enemy was wounded, this is considered an assist. You have gained 9 XP, putting you at 69. // Nice. Every little helps. Give me another ten! Breathing heavily, vision white-spotted, I swayed a moment on the spot then turned and started slouching back to Alator. ¡°Watch out!¡± came a sharp call. Suddenly, with a violent eruption, the ground exploded in a flurry of white ¡ª icy shards and powder cascading out, pelting my body. A massive snake-like thing burst from hiding in a blur of pale scales like an uncoiling spring. A long, jagged, snow-covered head snapped forwards, leaving a trail of frost. Only the last gasp of [Weapon Mastery] and a perfectly-timed swipe of my spear kept the teeth from locking around my neck, but it sunk its teeth deep into my shoulder, piercing easily through the Linothorax. My eyes shut against the pain ¡ª an entirely new phenomenon. Never felt pain like this! The snake¡¯s fangs were sharp and long, the cuts were deep into my skin and the ball of my shoulder, I lost the grip on my spear and panicked. [Vigour] and [Weapon Mastery] flowed out as I thrashed around internally. BURSTS of power vibrated by bones, and I grabbed the snake¡¯s freezing body with both hands and wrenched it free from me, its jaw snapped and its body twisted towards my neck again, but I managed to keep it aloft in a death-grip, yelling madness. The echoes of [Vigour] pumped a last bit of energy through me and I launched the snake as far as I could. Instinctively I thrust a hand in my pouch and found the Analysis Card, but it took me a moment and even as the text box popped up, it had righted itself and was slithering towards me again.
Fiend : Snowdrift Serpent, Level 12
Stats : Str 10, Dex 14, Con 4, Mnd 2
Attacks : Ambush Bite, Freezing Crush, Invisible Stillness, Wrap
Loot : Snowdrift Fang, Snowdrift Snakeskin, Frost Venom Gland
Weakness : Initially slow to react
XP : 68
It compressed its long body into a spiral again in a matter of moments, and lunged forwards, spearing itself into the air towards me. Another [Battle Tactics] whirred my brain into a frenzy as I considered options. The command to RUN! flashed across my whole psyche, but was quickly replaced by DROP! Throwing myself to the ground like a heavy sack, the serpent glided over, trying but failing to twist its body at me while it flew. The staccato noise of its jaw snapping and teeth closing on airy nothing rapped inside my mind. It fell lightly and twisted to me again, its glacial eyes locked on. Utter exhaustion pounded as my Skills bled from me again, my arms leaden, my knees buckled and I almost dropped. Through bleary eyes I could see Alator approaching, but he was too far away. My shoulder felt frozen solid, but pain throbbed through the numbness. At massive push I tried to convince my body that savage overuse was preferable to death! I reached deeply again, the stream in my mind was near still, now, the water that usually flowed had coagulated into a murky near-opaque gel and I pushed through it to reach the ever-so-faint lights beneath. The serpent launched itself again. [Vigour], [Battle Tactics], EFFORT. Instead of ducking, a rush of insight passed through me and as the Snowdrift Serpent threw itself forwards, I leapt at it. My spear forgotten at my side, I caught the serpent¡¯s jaw with my hands ¡ª one of the sharp fangs pierced my palm and I grunted, teeth gritted, but kept focused, gripped, and pulled. Writhing and spitting, hissing in mortal effort, the serpent thrashed its body around, throwing snow and needles into the air. At least four yards away the tail of its body slapped against the dying trunk of a tree, splintering it and throwing out a burst of loose bark. My arms burnt, my fingers seared, my palm was growing numb through the serpent¡¯s poisoned fang, but I urged every fibre to give me everything it had. ¡°VIGOUR!¡± I shouted, calling wildly, madly. I RIPPED the snake¡¯s jaws apart and with a pop then a sickening tear, they split and tore and folded backwards and over its neck, and fell still. I fell down with it, floppy and flat on the ground. Venom moved through my shoulder, pulsed through my palm ¡ª cold, freezing, my blood thickening and stopping. What an incredible last effort. It had not been even two days, but my journey through Barbican had produced a stark exclamation mark that seemed to make every day of my life preceding it worthwhile. My vision greyed, darkened, then faded to black. C11 : When You Fall Down A hazy sheen was all. A shifting and roiling sheen of jagged edges was all. My body tumbled freely through an empty space, beset on all sides by sharp winds and some unknown debris, scratching my arms, my bare legs. The frozen pain in my shoulder and hand turned into discomfort turned into vacancy. Then everything began to fade. Before utter darkness, I saw again that colossal shape, that Something which I now knew to be the World-Eater: black bones and awful, purple fangs, sky-darkening bat wings, and jaw agape in insatiable hunger. . . . Then a faint voice, wordless and so far away, echoed through the edges of my reality. That''s familiar. . . . Oh, but it¡¯s so distant. . . . Too far to help ¡ª too far away for me to care. Movement, getting closer? My companion is running to me, but that doesn''t matter. . . . I¡¯ve taken on too much venom. . . . Then even the dark beast and the moving shadow of my companion faded; the last proof of my living, breathing body, drifted away from me. . . . THUD. An extreme pressure on my chest, a pounding through the stillness. My own heart? Something that had been still suddenly moved and I lurched. THUD. Another hard hit on my sternum. With that pain and effort, my body materialised in the void. I felt the pain in my shoulder and hand again, and an immense throbbing all over. THUD. My eyes shot open. Alator knelt beside me. He raised another fist. His eyes were golden-flashing, his teeth bared in a panicked grimace. A single tear welled in his eye. ¡°Tr ¡ª Talbot!¡± he yelled. An agonising rush caught my throat as my lungs filled with cold air. I sat bolt upright as his fist crashed down again, missing me by an inch. My lungs were fit to burst but an exhale wouldn¡¯t come ¡ª something heavy and frozen. Searing pain from every muscle welcomed me back to the land of the living. ¡°Talbot!¡± Alator grasped my shoulders then reached behind me and bashed me on the back. I lurched and my throat contorted and expanded, then as a scream of terror passed through my psyche, a glut of blue-black ichor spilled from my mouth onto my lap. It scalded my bare thighs and dripped to the floor, where it lay steaming. Another agonising cold breath filled my lungs, then out, and in and out, and the pain relented. Trembling, bleary-eyed, I glanced around. The carcass of the serpent lay at my feet, its long, twisted body covered in scratches and missing scales; its jaw a broken mess, fallen back and wrapped backwards over itself, its blue forked tongue lying limp in its mouth. I pushed myself away from it by reflex, and found the Bronze Spear and held it to my body. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± My head throbbed fierce, my right shoulder and my left palm were still sending shooting pains through me which had me wince with every heartbeat. ¡°I¡¯ve been better,¡± I grinned with a flinch. ¡°Can you walk?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Get up. We have to move.¡± With my spear in my hand, I pushed my fists into the snow and struggled to raise myself up to standing ¡ª I fell a step backwards but caught myself. ¡°More coming?¡± I asked. ¡°Worse than that snake ¡ª you are not ready.¡± My slow-chugging mind managed to click into place. SYS, if he slays the fiends near to me, do I get Experience? This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. // SYS : XP is only awarded for an assist once you have attacked, or been attacked by, the enemy. // Ah well. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡± He ducked under and looped my arm over his shoulder, and then half-carried, half-dragged me forwards, back to the sunspot. I moved as fast as I could, but at several points my legs entirely gave way like jelly underneath me and Alator had to bring his hand around to hold me entirely up while I found my balance again. Something was gaining on us. Almost imperceptibly, there were steady tamps of pressed snow and pine needles, growing closer and closer. ¡°A little more, Talbot ¡ª we need a little more from you, now. Focus forwards.¡± I nodded, and reached deep within. In my mind, I stood mired in a thick hazy gloop; where the gentle stream and points of light, which represented my Skills, had been, there was instead an unmoving slosh of blue-black gunk, the same colour as the venom that still coursed through me from the Snowdrift Serpent¡¯s fangs. As my vision entirely clouded, and the last of my strength began to leave me, I forced myself down into that psychic mire, felt around under the frozen surface, and managed to grasp ahold of something entirely blindly: [Vigour]. The effect was much weaker than usual, and came on slowly, but it sent dull-licking fire through my blood and I managed to pull myself up and make the rest of the short journey at a stunted jog. ¡°By my wager, we¡¯ll be safe here for a time,¡± Alator said upon the daylit briar. His voice wasn¡¯t entirely certain, but he gave a glance to my wounds and must have made a calculated guess that we wouldn¡¯t be able to out-run them, regardless. There was movement in the briar and the pine needles, and a shock of snow lifted to the air as a fiend skid to a heavy stop by the side of the sunspot. On broad, weighty paws, a six-legged feline creature scowled at us, baring fangs and watching with bright blue eyes from the tree line. Its coat was mottled to be the perfect image of the snow-covered pine trunks, and its long, thin, semi-transparent claws glinted dully like carbon fibre before they retracted. Then as it moved forwards, I saw an illusory, or else spectral, wisp of an echo move alongside it, so that its exact movement was mirrored confusingly for a moment. It reached a paw out, but as the sun ¡ª even filtered as it was through the snow-clouds ¡ª touched it, the spectral double following after it dissipated, and further, smoke drifted from the fur, and it hissed and brought its paw back. It retreated from the edge a few yards and began to prowl this way and that, its thick, tall haunches bobbing up and down. The sharp features of its face were locked in a constant snarl and growl. Analysis Card.
Fiend : Frostwraith Lurker, Level 14
Stats : Str 8, Dex 18, Con 13, Mnd 3
Attacks : Crushing Bite, Feast, Spectral Claw
Loot : Frostwaith Claw, Snowdrift Pelt
Weakness : Sunlight, and hesitant to act first
XP : 99
Ninety-nine Experience! And all I¡¯d have to do was nick it for half? // SYS : Talbot, this is your sponsor talking. Be cautious. // I sat for a few minutes, got my breath back, and waited until just the first hint of clarity returned to my inner stream of power. That should be enough. I made sure Alator was nearby, between me and the massive cat, and I rose and levelled my spear at the thing. One more can''t hurt, eh? Standing, I brought the spear back, reached for [Weapon Mastery], and with every ounce of my improved Strength, I grunted and hurled the weapon like a javelin. Alator heard the effort and span just as the spear passed two feet from him, reflexively he reached out a hand to catch it but was a moment too late. It flew steady and true. I was impressed with myself, but due to my exhaustion, or the low Level of the Skill, it only grazed the beast ¡ª struck along one of its slick, arched shoulders. The scratch it left was minute and surface-level ¡ª I hoped it¡¯d be enough. The fiend howled rage and dove through the briar into the sun. Its pelt immediately erupted in black smoke, filling the air with the stink of burning hair. It screeched pain and thrashed its head around but kept a terrifying and startling pace towards us. Alator reacted immediately, walking fully in-between me and the beast. I fell back on my arse onto the boulder, the pump from the Skill left me, and utter exhaustion overtook me ¡ª I erupted into a fit of coughs and choked breath. The needle-like wounds through the muscles and sinews in my shoulder and hand burnt cold and I swayed, my eyes heavy-lidded, barely held onto consciousness. All six of its powerful legs rippled muscle as it bound manically towards us, and Alator widened his arms out to the side like a yokozuna sumo wrestler ready to receive an apprentice rikishi¡¯s initial rush. With a final yowl, eyes like blue flame and with smoke tumbling off its body like it was fresh out of hell, the beast extended its claws and made the last ten yard leap in one bound. C12 : Brotherhood-ish From Alator¡¯s stance, I imagined an incoming clash of body-on-body ¡ª clearly that was the impression he wanted to give. The Lurker must have thought that as well, as it raised four of its six legs, four-inch scimitar-like claws extended, and made to catch him in a bear-hug and rake his back apart. But a SPLIT second before impact, there was a flash of yellow-gold and a heat picked up in the cool pine forest clearing. The next moment Alator of the Solar Wheel stood with a spun torso and muscles at full tension, body a perfect image of a disc-thrower, and the fiend was sprawled on the floor, one side of its face smashed in. Any sweat on Alator¡¯s body turned to steam as his eyes flashed once, twice, three more times as he immediately closed the distance and landed consecutive blows to the beast with his right fist. The punches left welts in its fur and I heard the cracking and crunching of bone. But the thing was awesome in its relentlessness ¡ª it twisted its body down almost flat to avoid Alator¡¯s last incoming attack and span itself round in an instant as only a cat can do. On its back, its six legs all reached out far and LASHED out. Each slash left behind a spectral echo like a mirage that followed it, or like when you accidentally set your mouse cursor to have a trail. And every movement caused more black smoke to flow from the burning fur as the filtered light of the sun burnt into its wraith-like coat. Alator guarded himself and leapt backwards, but not before the beast opened two sets of thin claw-marks along his forearms. Growling, Alator landed with a skid and immediately kicked off again, undeterred by the creature¡¯s glass-clawed defence. Clearly he had great confidence in his abilities, or else his rage was quickly surpassing his ability to think straight. At a sprinter¡¯s pace, his arms and legs cutting through the air, Alator then threw himself to the ground and slid beneath the creature¡¯s thrashing legs. Right up close, he threw an arm around both sides of the creature¡¯s neck, manoeuvred himself underneath its belly, and squeezed. PANIC overcame the creature¡¯s eyes. It jumped and thrashed and tried to buck, to no avail, then it launched itself into the air and came down HARD on Alator¡¯s back. A grunt and a wince, but he remained with gritted teeth and wild eyes in full contact. The thing spun around again and started to tire, its muzzle, a few moments before blue and angled, was a red-purple, half-broken mess. Its breath was strained. Wheezing, it fell around in final throes. Then Alator¡¯s bare feet found purchase on the ground, he wrenched backwards almost to a wrestler¡¯s bridge and CRUNCH ¡ª the thing¡¯s neck broke at an awful angle. He dropped the beast and stepped back from it, checked the light wounds on his forearms, and then turned to me, seething. ¡°Talbot, why?¡± his voice was dark and tinged with something berserk. ¡°Experience,¡± I gasped, my throat hoarse from the coughing fit. Barely able to sit up straight, I shied away from him. Alator through glinting eyes stared at me incredulously. The Frostwaith Lurker twitched on the ground, and my companion raised and dropped a bare foot, stamping it through the fiend¡¯s skull to the floor, only a dark red mess remained. His leg soaked in the creature¡¯s gore, he stamped over the briar towards me. To my surprise, he sat down heavily beside me and licked a thin line of his own blood from his elbow. ¡°Well, it¡¯s only a little, but we¡¯ve now both spilled blood in battle together.¡± He leant over and punched me hard in my good shoulder ¡ª what was my good shoulder. Cringing and holding it, I split a laugh. ¡°Blood-brothers?¡± I asked. His eyes darkened and though his smile didn¡¯t drop, I saw it become more forced. ¡°Aye, something like that.¡± With a small movement of his ankles and toes, he jumped up onto his feet. ¡°Rest. You need a few hours, at least. I heard from the grey-tongued speakers in Ur-Kadesh that it is unwise to travel over Korgoth¡¯s corpse after sundown, but I fear we may have no choice ¡ª you have left us with no choice.¡± Now, in the aftermath, with all the excitement settled and the powdery snow spotted with red like strewn strawberries, the pain came on properly. That mingled with Alator¡¯s faint disappointment. I smiled uneasily, and checked in with SYS. // SYS : You gained 69 XP for defeating the Snowdrift Serpent, and you gained 49 XP when Alator defeated the Frostwraith Lurker. You now have 187 and need 82 total for the next Level. // Level 3! Here I come! While my heart is set on Strength . . . and eventually getting that greatsword . . . I think stamina is more important while we are journeying: Dexterity, it is! // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 3. Your Dexterity Stat has increased to 7. You have 105 XP remaining and need 88 total for the next Level. // Come on! Testing death at every turn is definitely the way to go in Barbican! Level 4! STRENGTH! This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 4. Your Strength Stat has increased to 10. You have 15 and need 95 total for the next Level. // Levelling is pretty linear, huh? // SYS : Of all the New Worlds, it is indeed the quickest to level in Barbican ¡ª what has taken you only two days might have taken someone in Chevalier Monde or Mirai No Sekai months to achieve, even with the boon I bestowed upon you. It also has the highest rate of player death of any New World. And while the fiends around Ur-Kadesh might not be the most daunting of all Barbican, they are known to be particularly aggressive. // Again, biiig thanks for sending me here. You knew at the time that I didn¡¯t really choose Ur-Kadesh, didn¡¯t you? // SYS : I simply trusted in your ability, O great Chosen One. // Annoying. Are all the other Systems as sarcastic as you? // SYS : No, but none of the others have ever granted an Analysis Card, so . . . you know, swings and roundabouts. // Irritating. I drew the Windbloom Herbs from my pouch and held them in my hand ¡ª the pale green stems were light as air, but bent in a few places, and the long white petals had been bruised. How do I use this? // SYS : You didn¡¯t think to ask, O Chosen One? // Infuriating. Scrunching them up in my palm, a clear fluid was released from the stems. I shrugged and shoved them into my mouth, chewing them up. Tasted sickly sweet like a cross between meadowsweet and elderflower. Upon swallowing, I felt the pain subside slightly from my shoulder and palm. I scrunched up my Linothorax towards my neck and watched as the deep, harrowing hole that the serpent had left in my flesh stopped glistening wet and closed up a little. // SYS : Lucky guess. // After an hour or so, I reached for the stream of power within me and found it once again clear and steadily-running ¡ª the points of light beneath the water glinting invitingly, and rose to my feet. Going to the feline fiend¡¯s carcass, I collected a Frostwaith Claw. Still not confident enough to try to skin it, especially something this size, and with six legs, so I just left the rest. With Alator at my side, we passed back through the forest to where the serpent had set up the ambush by the wounded human-like-faced warg, and harvested a Snowdrift Fang and a Frost Venom Gland (with great care and assistance from SYS) from the former and a Broken Fang from the latter (with my neck tensed in a grimace).
Item : Frostwaith Claw
Rarity : Rare
Description : Near-transparent and cold to the touch
Effect : With [Crafting], it can imbue the power of spectral cold
Item : Snowdrift Fang
Rarity : Rare
Description : Long, thin, razor-sharp fang, tough as steel
Item : Frost Venom Gland
Rarity : Common
Description : Blue-black sac filled with cold-infused venom
Effect : With [Herbalism], it can cause cardiac arrest
Why can¡¯t I see the effect of the Snowdrift Fang? // SYS : Many items do not have a specific effect, either magical or prescribed. To this point, however, the item is what it is ¡ª with ingenuity, it may have many uses other than those prescribed. // ¡°Onwards to Akhur''shet!¡± As Alator said, we did not stop as day became twilight and then the dim cloud-covered light of the suns fully disappeared behind the eastern horizon, leaving a truly dark way. There was still a twinge of pain every time I used my left hand or moved my right arm, so carrying my spear in either was difficult, but after a while I was forced to accept it and found I could still move both quite comfortably. Assuming we find the edge of the forest soon and can find shelter to rest a while, it¡¯s better to use Skills in order to level them up, right, SYS? // SYS : That¡¯s correct. As you might guess, each Level is harder to achieve than the preceding; while you could level [Vigour] to Level 2 by sprinting and leaping for a few hours a day, higher Levels will require stunts considerably more death-defying. // I was struck by an image of farming high Levels of [Vigour] by BASE jumping. // SYS : Skills also have to be used appropriately in order to level them, however. Lying in bed and consistently drawing on your Skills before sleep, for example, won¡¯t improve them much ¡ª and all the created energy flowing through you would definitely cause insomnia, or else trigger a heart attack. // A little terrifying. Noted. C13 : My Be-lava-d // SYS : Flee if you can, for the Imposthume of Korgoth awaits! Behold this hellish wasteland, where the very earth festers with molten wounds, and rivers of fire snake through a blackened plain of soot! The air is oh so thick ¡ª heavy with the horrid stench of sulphur and ash, and every breath sears a reminder onto your throat that life such as yours does not belong here! Lo! the jagged crags rise like broken teeth, spewing plumes of choking smoke into the sky, blotting out the heavens! And ohhh, the fiends! They crawl from the cracks in the earth, their fiery eyes glowing through the swirling ash, ever-eager to hunt those foolish enough to trespass in their dark domain. Step not too close to the pools of bubbling magma, for even they hunger to devour you whole! // I miss the forest already. . . . These introductions are just getting more and more dramatic. Do you come up with these yourself? // SYS : We have a few bullet points to hit each time, but we''ve a lot of room for personalisation. You clearly have a lot of fun coming up with them. Dark as it was, each step was perilous under the pine canopy, especially when I tried to use small bursts of [Vigour] to save my pride. I told Alator I regretted not buying a torch, at least to see where my feet were going, but he told me that in such a fraught place it would only attract the worst sorts of predators ¡ª I sort of shrugged at that. I had crossed over a very dark portion of my life before eventually deciding to step into the New Worlds, and had in that time decided to turn over a new leaf, to grab life by the horns. Alator had quickly become part of that resolution: I will utilise your seeming limitless energy and power as often as I can, to any extreme necessary. . . . How little I knew of the extremes of Barbican! It was full gloomy night by the time we broke out of the tree-line, leaving behind the briar, pines and snow. The ashen wasteland of the Imposthume of Korgoth was no better. At multiple points my sandalled foot fell hard six inches or so onto sharp rocks, or slipped on a pile of settled ash, and each time I tripped and fell sprawled over, grazing my bare knees and palms. The Windbloom I had chewed on had closed the fang pin-hole in my palm, but it was still a shining patch of frail new skin and each time I fell it shocked pain. One time, when it took me more than a few moments to right myself, Alator came to my side and dragged me to my feet. He turned aside and pointed a finger. ¡°We will make it to high ground, and if we can find somewhere hidden, sleep until first light.¡± I nodded, clicking my teeth. There were certainly no stars visible, but even if there was a moon shining behind the clouds (I actually wasn¡¯t sure there was one . . . or two?), it was (they were?) entirely imperceptible, and only the faintest of faint sheens of dampened light guided our way. The horizon, however, glowed with this dull red light which, as we stamped up the incline of the volcanic mountains, was revealed to be slow-creeping runnels of magma which bubbled out of the earth at one point then tumbled slowly a few hundred yards and disappeared into another point in the earth. After the first few scant ones, which we avoided, the place quickly became a criss-crossed roadmap of these lava-streams. ¡°We¡¯ll have to leap this one,¡± Alator said as he glanced left and right. Then added, ¡°If you¡¯re up to it.¡± I knew he wouldn¡¯t have stopped to think even for a moment if I hadn¡¯t been so weak. Irritation pricked me. My throat was parched. We had drunk from the snows in the pine forest, but the last three or four hours of the journey had been thirsty and dry, and now the air was hot and growing thin. I took off the Stonebear Cloak as soon as it heated up, but I found that the +1 Constitution it gave made the walk more comfortable than removing it, so while it looked a bit mad, I kept it wrapped around my shoulders and accepted sweat from every pore. ¡°I¡¯ve only been in this World two days, you know,¡± I scowled. Alator blinked, for a moment misunderstanding my spite. ¡°I know, me too.¡± Then he added, with a thin, supportive smile, ¡°You must have lived as some lord of a metropolis in a previous life, to be so unready.¡± Not helping. I shouldered past him, took a running start, and vaulted the magma. Heat licked my ankles as I sailed over, curling the hair on my calves, and I landed heavily on the other side, skidded, a knee buckled, and I dropped for the twentieth time. ¡°My arse!¡± Alator leapt over to me softly and held out a hand, a cruel grin on his face. I reluctantly took it with my good palm and he lifted me to my feet easily. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I said, forlorn. ¡°Let¡¯s just get to the high ground.¡± From there, we went out of our way whenever possible to avoid the fires and lava-flows. At some point a nauseating stink of sulphur came on and made me gag, and my thighs burnt with the uphill effort and my calves ached for moving over the soft ground, like when walking on sand. Further on, Alator threw his hand out and indicated a specific place we were aiming for. I just grunted and kept forcing my quickly-failing thews onwards. But, feeling in myself a few fresh uses of my Skills were available to me, I decided it was as good a time as any to try to farm for some upgrades. Whenever there was another magma stream that we absolutely had to cross, or else a rift in the earth like a deep crevasse, especially if the gap was more than a couple yards across, I jumped with [Vigour], soaring through the air and landing quite comfortably on the other side. I decided I probably couldn¡¯t get away with [Battle Tactics] in any clever way, and didn¡¯t want to draw on any more exhaustion or discomfort in an attempt (nor any further insult from SYS), but I did manage a few uses of [Weapon Mastery], using my spear to pole-vault over a few high boulders, which seemed to work. SYS, is there any way of knowing how close I am to levelling up a Skill? // SYS : Not really, but you''ll know when one improves. By the time we reached the steepest part of the slope, I was entirely spent. Alator hopped up a near-sheer shining, black ledge like a mountain goat, then leant his body down so that he could give me a hand up. As I lay fully splayed on the ground, listening to the faint grumbling of the earth and the growing and popping bubbles from behind us, trying to ignore the stench, a little butterfly landed on my arm ¡ª a pleasant little green body with fine, gossamer grey wings. It made me smile, and I watched as it shook off some soot and flapped a couple of times, a little ticklish. Then it gave me a sharp pain like a needle as a spiked proboscis shot into my skin. ¡°Bastard!¡± I slapped hard and crushed it, a spurt of dark blood ¡ª my own ¡ª smeared on my arm. It left a pale patch of skin that started to itch instantly. Alator started and looked over. Grumbling, I reached into the pouch and drew out the jerky, tossed some to Alator, and chewed and swallowed a few large mouthfuls. In the dry air, my mouth was parched, and the jerky did not go down easy. Then I half-grunted that I was tired, turned over onto my side, and struggled to sleep. Sometime later ¡ª I didn¡¯t know how long, but I did feel a modicum of rest ¡ª Alator woke me with a stab in the shoulder with two fingers. ¡°Sorry to do this, Talbot, but we might have company.¡± We crawled over to the edge of the ebony-black ridge and peered down the hill. Far below us was a flat, wide, darkly-armoured creature, reminiscent of an armadillo that had been scorched and then compressed. It was perhaps six-foot tall and twice that wide. I fingered the Analysis Card in my pocket.
Fiend : Cinderback Armadrax, Level 14
Stats : Str 16, Dex 4, Con 18, Mnd 2
Attacks : Burning Roll, Fiery Claw, Searing Smother
Loot : Cinderback Claw, Molten Carapace, Inferno Heartstone
Weakness : Distracted by noise
XP : 105
I sent a little probe to my extremities and was pleasantly surprised with what came back ¡ª I¡¯d had enough rest. I probably couldn¡¯t take the armadillo thing by myself, but even 52 XP would put me well above what I need for Level 4. Easy decision quickly made, I nudged Alator and whispered: ¡°I¡¯m going to give that beast my best shot. Be nearby, but out of sight. When I call for you, howl as loud as you can. Then give it a moment, if after that, you see me in imminent death-peril, please jump in and save me.¡± A little perplexed, he nodded. ¡°Rash, Talbot ¡ª hopefully not too rash.¡± I stifled a giggle at the almost perfect pirate film quote that Alator definitely had no idea about. This won¡¯t be any use, I thought, laying my shield down on the ash. Then, with the trusty Bronze Spear in my hand, we both slid down the obsidian and silently made our way over the ashen ground. Parting, we kept to what shadows we could, or shards of rock, or hazes of fiery air, and through the discomfort and the pink glow of first light, made ground on the thing. The fiend stood on four keg-thick accordion-like legs, slow-moving and undulating, each tipped with a row of fiery claws. Once or twice it gave an enormous shake and shudder, its scales like blackened iron shifting and clacking together, contracting and expanding over the strange, wide body it had, but didn¡¯t seem on edge. Its long snout, ending in a circular disc of iron with two unmoving nostrils, snuffled and moved the ash about in front of it. As I moved closer than perhaps twenty yards, I peered into the gentle stream of power within me and easily found [Battle Tactics] waiting within reach, to ensure there was nothing I was missing. My mind was peppered with a few different final routes to take. Choosing one, I blew out my lungs, gripped my spear, heart POUNDING, and tore from hiding towards the thing. I¡¯d always wondered why people seemed to holler while rushing towards an unassuming foe ¡ª surely it just alerts the enemy to your presence, or worse, tells them the name of the attack you¡¯re using. . . . Anyway, that¡¯s what I did: yelled bloody murder, and threw my body towards mortal combat! C14 : Demon Armadillo Scales like blackened iron, sitting with strange suspension on four tree-trunk, armoured legs tipped with a line of long, fiery claws. This was what I faced now. The most fantastical fiend I''d come across by far. Its Weakness, Distracted by noise, seemed to me more difficult to exploit . . . but I had a few ideas, already. In my first leap and bound I thrust down hard with my spear towards a gap that opened between shifting layers of carapace. Before the blow sunk home, it only needed shift its weight slightly and the legs on one side of its body compressed and those on the other side stretched out. With the glinting bronze spearhead inches away, it was suddenly at a slight diagonal, and the gap in the carapace disappeared between two thick layers of metal. The spear buffed off them, leaving an ugly white scratch, but no real damage. Quick on my feet, FULLY committed, I shocked off [Vigour] and with a powerful burst of thigh muscle, darted around the other side of the thing to where the carapace had opened up, and gave a smaller, more controlled thrust. The demon armadillo¡¯s Constitution was high, but not insurmountable, and had nothing on the skeleton I¡¯d put down the day before. One or two attacks like this should do it . . . If successful. But the thing bounced again like a bloody lowrider, tipping towards me violently and closing all the gaps in a split second. The spear again screeched against the side of the carapace, digging another zig-zagged white line into it. I hopped backwards to make some distance, to try to reevaluate, but the spearhead caught between two shifting scales and slipped out of my grip. Five yards away, weaponless and unbalanced, I skidded on the floor, I squinted and reached inside myself for [Battle Tactics]. I took a moment while it righted itself to glance at individual parts of it, but no sparks of insight came clearly. There were ways forwards, but none of them killing blows. Spitting out a mouthful and clenching my jaw, and with a running jump catapulted myself onto its back, reaching into myself for [Vigour] as I pushed off the ground, already feeling the Skill delay in my mind. It tried to twist and claw at me aloft but didn¡¯t have the Dexterity, leaving lines of fire in the air ¡ª it slashed into nothing. My sandalled feet hit hard iron near to my stuck spear and on all fours my fingertips found purchase on one of the scales and pushed off with all the might in my legs, but even with my improved Strength I couldn¡¯t move the carapace more than a half-inch. With the echoes of the Skill I dug deeper, pushed my feet apart like readying for a deadlift, blew out my lungs, tensed every muscle in my body, sinews strained to breaking, and ROARED effort. I felt something tear and give beneath my fingers, then the shining scale straightened, bent backwards, and lifted up with a sickening pull, stretching the orange flesh like webbing before it broke free and I almost fell back with the force. I felt the armadillo rumble pain beneath me and snapping noises and churning erupted from below. Quick as a flash, I wrenched my spear free and gave a savage stab down into the exposed body. Its bile-yellow blood steamed and sprayed up from the wound, spattering my arm with searing heat. Just as I felt [Battle Tactics] leaving me, I had a stabbing instinct to jump off the back of the thing even as it began to compress itself and curl up. In the space of five or six seconds, it had bound itself up, its legs tucked inwards. The demon armadillo became a perfect sphere of glinting metal and red fire. Glancing around, I saw a tall, blackened rock jutting out of the ground, ten-foot tall and broad, and rocketed myself towards it. I heard the same churning noise again reverberating from inside the thing and knew it was rolling towards me, picking up speed. Running as fast as I could, I dipped into [Vigour] for a third time, feeling the ache and strain in my thighs and calves. As I reached the rough wall, I waited for a moment with my back turned, then, panting sharply and heart pounding, I quickly dove out of the way of its blackened iron onslaught. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it A half-second of whirring wind, crushed ground and terror, then the Cinderback hit the boulder HARD, unsettling sheets of ash and leaving a long, deep crack in the stone. Grunting and shuddering, the fiend unfurled in one mechanical motion. Its accordion-like legs came out at strange angles then found the ground, and it turned its disc-armoured snout to me and bellowed flame, its whole form trembling and clicking. Then, sparks flew off its body as it reared up, teetered for half-second, then its back legs extended like pistons and it threw itself forwards. Instinctively, I overextended to another use of [Battle Tactics] and felt my mind grow hot, then as the Skill imbued my eyes with preternatural focus, my heart leapt: its underbelly was a living furnace, shedding embers and smoke, emanating heat, but looked like the same soft orange flesh I revealed under the broken carapace. I dove to a place unshadowed by the beast¡¯s enormous black body. Get it to roll up again, to unfurl, and to rear up and try that Searing Smother attack again. Next time, I¡¯ll be ready. With an almighty CRASH its weight fell on the ashen ground and obsidian, crackling and shattering each part its armoured feet fell on and throwing up soot clouds and shards of black glass. I caught myself and rolled, and while it reeled from impact I clambered onto its back. Opportunistically, spear-in-hand, I three-point scrambled over to the gap in the armour again and in exactly the same way, used every ounce of Strength I had to plunge the spear down into it. It raged and twisted again, to a predictable end: the churning picked up and its carapace started clicking together. Leaping off again, I had a head-start. While it wrapped itself up into a ball, I sped at full bore towards a wide crevice, almost an enormous eroded hole, that extended a few dozen yards in all directions and disappeared into blackness below. By the time it was finished and gaining speed, I was already perched upon the precipice. Lungs screaming, muscles stretched to ripping, I beat my chest with one hand, trying to bring myself back to my senses. The metal boulder spun across the ground, spraying thin wet-looking arcs of fire into the air and choking the already ashen air with a cloud of smoke. It propelled itself and sped up, but well before the impact, when it had reached a predetermined point, I took off along the edge of the precipice. Either it would fall, or . . . A staccato CLICK-CLACK filled the air as it started to unfurl rapidly. A barrel-shaped leg, compressed short, shot out at a random angle from the ball, and another, then the rest, and acted as brakes, dragging the beast in a desperate attempt to slow. The blackened iron screeched against the stone, a lick of wet fire blew out from every joint. The four legs behind it left scars in the earth as it slowed . . . slowed . . . slowed . . . and came to a halt a half-yard away from the abyss. Clicking my teeth, the berserker grin split my face again. Eyes wild, heart beating like a drum, the head of the Bronze Spear glinting, I ran at it with abandon. Just as expected, the Cinderback¡¯s rage was instant and uncontrollable. Its strange mechanical-like insides chugged into gear slowly and its back legs compressed, reading its Special slam again. Its small nearly-covered eyes, burning like coals, locked on mine, its front legs telescoped outwards suddenly and it raised the front of its body up off the ground to a severe angle. ¡°ALATOR, NOW!¡± I yelled. Immediately, Alator, eyes glowing yellow-gold, burst out from hiding and, still in the air, howled like a behemoth wolf declaring himself the alpha male after mortal combat with a rival. The fiend reacted instantly and perfectly. Its armoured disc-like head twisted clockwise towards the noise and it lost all momentum in its movement. Its back legs buckled and it started to teeter backwards and forwards like a brittle tree in the wind. [Vigour] pounded on and I launched myself forwards, [Weapon Mastery] commanded my arms into perfect, vicious motion, and I thrust again and again into the soft underbelly of the beast, my spear like a jet of bronze lightning. Gluts of bright yellow blood sprayed from it at massive pressure from every wound, and the living engine inside it began to thrum with a sound something like a corrupted audio recording of a hyena¡¯s laugh. I stabbed a half-dozen more times as it struggled tragically for balance, and by the time it had, its soft orange underbelly was a roadmap of streaks, cuts, runnels of blood, and dripping fire. Its eyes high above me, starting to dull, came towards me. It started to fall forwards, the iron ton of its whole weight, right on top of me, but in the mad moment I could do nothing but roar laughter and continue to plunge the entire length of the spearhead into it. Movement in my periphery ¡ª but nothing else mattered! I AM going to be the one to kill this thing. I DESERVE the XP here. I DESERVE THE GLORY. C15 : Distant Groves The full weight of the Cinderback Armadrax came crashing down, an iron shed-load of mass exploded onto the ground, sending shockwaves and a grinding thud and an awful CRUNCH that echoed off into the morning light. . . . But I was already shunted away ¡ª Alator had managed to tackle me aside at the last moment. With the force of his run, we slid across the ashen ground, rapidly approaching the precipice ¡ª to fall into the abyss. Alator¡¯s teeth snapped together, the muscles in his shoulders went taut and ridged and the lines of gold that webbed up from his fingertips glowed and spread up his whole arm. Still moving at speed, he stabbed his hand down into the ground. A fingernail splintered and flew off, but the hand broke two-inch into the very stone and with a whiplash JOLT, and we stopped. My legs were dangling over the edge. With a grunt, Alator rose to his feet and pulled me out of the crevasse. His eyes were on fire, a yellow, energetic smoke pouring from the outer corners, but his face showed nothing but insane joy. ¡°YOU MAD BASTARD!¡± he roared, pounding a fist into my chest. I lay panting, splayed out, hand still clutching my steaming spear. My entire body felt like it was on fire. I looked down, most of the front of my skin was mottled with light burns as if I¡¯d been spat at by cooking oil. He helped me upright. We both walked the few paces back to the mountainous thing, like the gradually dying embers of the aftermath of an enormous bonfire. I readied my spear out in front and kicked it hard. No movement. I shut my eyes in bliss, then groaned as wave after wave of agonising pressure came on every muscle. I didn¡¯t bother reaching inside that stream of power within me for my Skills; I knew it would be just jelly and darkness. ¡°You pushed yourself past your absolute limit, Talbot,¡± Alator said, resting an arm over my shoulders and pulling me into him. We both stared at the smoking mound and I had a peculiar, humorous feeling that we resembled two old work colleagues relaxing in front of a barbecue after a long week ¡ª Alator congratulating me on my choice of meat, me using a spatula instead of a spear, just chatting away on a Sunday lunchtime. Chuckling to myself, I pushed myself away from him and set about harvesting the beast, to Alator¡¯s amusement. The Cinderback Claw had settled into warmth only slightly too uncomfortable to hold. I nestled it into my pouch. I thought that the Molten Carapace would have been easy enough to remove, given the existing missing scale, and something about the alien, strange nature of this fiend made me a lot less squeamish about cutting it up. If only we had a proper knife. . . . I climbed onto it and went to use my spear to cut a few more of the iron-like scales free, but saw that the bronze had been melted blunt and warped out of recognition. Well, that¡¯s beyond what my bloody whetstone can fix. Hopefully Akhur''shet has a blacksmith worth his salt, maybe even one that can incorporate some of these materials I¡¯ve been picking up! Last on the list of items to loot from the Cinderback was an Inferno Heartstone. It lay on its front, so Alator and I would have to roll it over. Walking to one side of it, we took our low squat stances and found whatever ridge or bent bit of carapace we could and lifted with all our might. Together ¡ª though I can¡¯t imagine my input felt like much help to my companion ¡ª we managed it. Its underbelly still leaked that bile-yellow blood. It stunk acerbic so badly that it made my eyes water, but I inspected it to where I thought perhaps its heart had been. Alator came to my side. He moved his hand over the surface of the beast and there was a faint flash, then he indicated a place. ¡°Dig in there.¡± I did as he said, seeing that it was perhaps a slightly darker shade of orange to the rest of it. I used the ruined bronze of the spear to dig in and feel around, and eventually it dinged against something hard, and with heat curling the hair on my forearms and prickling my face, I drew out the treasure. Analysis.
Item : Cinderback Claw
Rarity : Rare
Description : A long, fiendish claw, warm to the touch If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Effect : With [Crafting], it can imbue the power of volcanic fire
Item : Inferno Heartstone
Rarity : Rare
Description : Burning power within an ebony shard
Effect : Can be used to power living machinery
All done, I groaned and fell into the ash. Alator came to my side and breathed in. I cut across him: ¡°I know we can¡¯t rest here, just give me a few minutes.¡± Alator nodded and leapt up onto a nearby rock-wall, scanning the horizon. I chewed on the last of the jerky and struggled to swallow, my mouth parched. Then I shut my eyes and tried to drive my focus away from the complaints of my body. Living machinery sounds cool, eh? BUZZ. STOP THAT. // SYS : Very cool, but there isn¡¯t much of that in Barbican ¡ª it would have more use on Planet Ironside in Fomalhaut. // Not sure any of those are words. // SYS : It¡¯s the name of a star with reverse entropic radia ¡ª // Anyway, there¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to ask you. So . . . is all this power coming from you? The bronze orb swayed from side to side, like the shake of a head, but didn¡¯t offer anything more. The Experience, my buff body ¡ª I¡¯m even taller than I was before ¡ª and the Skills that make me feel like a superhero. Are you giving me these? // SYS : Only by proxy ¡ª the newfound magnificence within your body comes from the essence of the fiends you destroy. XP represents this essence in a way you can understand. Entities such as I ¡ª you call us Systems ¡ª simply distribute the energy released during death. // Do you, now? And skim some off the top for yourselves, I¡¯d wager? // SYS : . . . // I think I just heard you squirm. The plot thickens. // SYS : Do you want the Experience from the fiend, or not? // Yes, please ¡ª pretty please with a cherry on top. // SYS : You gained 105 XP for defeating the Cinderback Armadrax. You now have 122 and need 95 total for the next Level. // Let¡¯s go! Level 5! Strength me up, SYS! // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 5. Your Strength Stat is now 11. You have 27 XP remaining and need 102 total for the next Level. // I felt it instantly. A subtle bridge had been crossed between Alator and myself. There was still a vast horizon separating me from my companion, but glancing at him with the Analysis Card at my fingertips now revealed his Strength to be 66, exactly six times mine. Alator¡¯s Dexterity and Mind were still ? to me, but it filled a void of unease that his ability was not unreachable; simply far away. His Level and Home still showed ?, but I remember SYS said that wasn¡¯t due to the six-times gap, just a problem with the Card. Guess I need to find out more about his Home myself. Smiling widely, I pulled myself to my feet. I retrieved the Bronze Shield I¡¯d deposited, then Alator hopped off the beast and mirrored my grin, and we set off in the direction we¡¯d been heading. Cresting again over the steady slope of the mountain, this time in the light, we saw a new biome through the haze: the slow-spitting caldera of an ancient volcano, half-filled with steaming water, half still dry, blackened earth pocked with glowing pools of magma. And beyond, neat lines of trees with stark red leaves. Heading down over the peak, I was forced to use my spear as a walking stick to catch myself from falling a few times as my legs settled into that unsteadiness that I was quickly growing very accustomed to. I¡¯d lost track of how many Skills I¡¯d popped off in that battle, but the comparatively gentle walk, helped along with the small bonuses to Strength and Dexterity I¡¯d gained, softened the blow, and we crossed the ashen plane at a good pace. The ground was rough underfoot and we kicked up small clouds of ash with each step, and as we neared the half-active volcano, the sluggish lava flows became more common and the jagged crevasses were more numerous, but narrower ¡ª easier to cross with my own ability. The air was dry and the occasional warm gust carried soot so that by the time we neared the trees, our skin and clothes were sticky and heavy grey. There was a high fence built of thin, hewed, spike-topped logs before us, but there were gaps just wide enough for humans to comfortably squeeze between. The emberfruit groves stretched in neat, orderly lines; low-hanging branches heavy with clusters of deep orange fruit. Gnarled, ancient trunks supported vibrant red leaves that shimmered like embers in the quickly fading light. The sulphur in the air was replaced by the bittersweet scent of ripe fruit and rich, black soil. We couldn¡¯t help but reach up and pick a fruit from the first tree we found; a tough, rubble-textured skin peeled away to vibrant coral flesh, and each juicy bite gave a very slight pulse to the tongue and throat like an energy drink ¡ª perhaps it was just that it was the first moisture that¡¯d touched my lips all day. In the distance, low in a valley, was nestled a small village of homes built from dark, porous stone, their roofs woven with the dried red leaves. A far cry from scary and otherworldly Ur-Kadesh; if not for the location and colour, it seemed like any pleasant village you might have found a thousand years ago on Earth. Approaching, some of the locals, all dressed in clothes dyed that same stark red, gave not unfriendly nods as we passed, but then carried about their business tending the groves. They were stout folk, orange-skinned with gangly long arms. In the centre of the village stood a fairly modest shrine; an obelisk of ruby-red, ten-foot tall, and in an alcove, a perfect circle cut into the stone, smouldered a small handful of embers, ever-burning. There were offerings of the freshest fruit in woven baskets at its base. I breathed out heavily, then brought in everything about me with every sense. How peaceful it is, here. How quaint and how pleasant. I didn¡¯t see the bloodstains. C16 : The Witch of Akhurshet ¡°Welcome, travellers from Ur-Kadesh,¡± a warm voice, gravelly but bright, called out from the side of one of the stone huts. An old woman with an aged orange face, crinkled like old parchment, stepped out from the shadows, eyes gleaming beneath heavy, untamed strands of silver hair. ¡°Hullo, my name¡¯s Talbot,¡± I instinctively raised a hand and forced a smile. ¡°We¡¯re new to the area and just planning on passing through. Though would appreciate a place to stay, if that¡¯s all right.¡± She moved towards us with a gnarled walking stick of emberfruit wood. Despite her age, she moved smoothly away from the hut, then when she neared, settled into a hobble, trembling and leaning on her cane. ¡°I¡¯m Old Mereth, the elder of the village. You look weary, lads ¡ª walked a long road, haven¡¯t you? And covered in battle-wounds!¡± Her eyes lingered on my burns and the cat scratches on Alator¡¯s arms, her expression unreadable, maybe something measuring or calculating, maybe . . . there was something beneath all the warmth, but through exhaustion or perhaps something else, I couldn¡¯t decipher it. ¡°Hello, old witch,¡± Alator grumbled, profound spite radiating from him. I nudged him with an elbow and he inclined his head, but crossed his arms and looked away. ¡°Strange company you keep, Talbot. . . . But all are welcome here.¡± She came right up close to me and reached out a hand to pat my arm. I flinched, then as she touched me, something in me softened, as if I was being put at ease. The tension drifted from my body. That haze of exhaustion then came on full bore, and I almost fell over forwards where I stood. Her hand remained pressed on my arm. ¡°It¡¯s been a difficult night,¡± I admitted, trying to pull myself together. She pointed a gloved finger past us to the tall, ruby-red shrine, wherein the faint glow of the embers rose and fell. ¡°It¡¯s no grave matter. All souls find kind refuge in Akhur''shet. We have a hut you can use, all made-up ¡ª a bothy, if you like. Inside are beds, a safe place to lay your heads, and we¡¯ll bring you hot food. I don¡¯t imagine the travelling foods sated much of your appetite.¡± Wobbling a little, words came half-unbidden, like that moment you fully give into drunkenness. ¡°No ¡ª nasty dry stuff.¡± ¡°Quiet, quiet. It¡¯ll be sundown shortly, you¡¯ve done enough to deserve some proper rest. Let the kindly Ember Spirit keep watch over you.¡± I nodded dumbly, and she took my arm and led me a short way into the village. With a heavy thud she unclasped a hook, then with a creak, she opened a heavy wooden door and guided me in. The room was instantly inviting; a wide hearth, already lit, flickered pleasant red light. There were three cots pressed against the far wall, each draped in wool and linens dyed deep crimson and bright orange. As she brought me over to one of the beds and sat me down, another one of the short local orange women filed into the room behind us and set out a bowl of fresh emberfruit and a jug of the juice, which was poured into a glazed clay mug and handed to me. As they did, they held out a hand for my Bronze Spear, still warped and half-melted, and the Bronze Shield. Not completely out of it, I put up a hand to stop their approach and propped them up by the side of the bed ¡ª in view. I drank greedily from the mug. The cool juice went down nicely and gave that familiar tingle down my throat. Then as a reflex I undid my sandals and lay back on the bed. Very woozy, my head swam, Old Mereth¡¯s hand still on my arm as she sat on the edge of the bed. I wrapped myself in my cloak and the woman pulled the sheets over me. ¡°Hold on ¡ª Alator,¡± frantically for a long moment through heavy-lidded eyes, I threw my body around and tried to peer over Old Mereth¡¯s shoulder for my companion. Eventually, to my utter relief, I saw him in the corner of the room, arms still crossed, brow furrowed, foot tapping. ¡°There, there. It¡¯s no grave matter, drift into the kind, warm sea of sleep,¡± a burning hot hand reached up and stroked my hair. The heat felt pleasant. Complete, timeless nothing. ¡°Talbot!¡± a voice from far away broke through my utterly dreamless slumber. ¡°Talbot! Get up, we have to go.¡± As though listening to the TV when half-asleep, I heard myself respond, ¡°It¡¯s no grave matter, Alator, just leave me be.¡± He lingered over me like a shadow for a moment, then clicked his teeth and turned, and then as if from far away, I heard the sound of the creaking door open and close. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I woke before first light, the haze lifted. The first thing I noticed was that the floorboards were damp ¡ª slick with dark stains. Sap from the emberfruit trees? Maybe. And the faint coppery smell, too? The events of the day before came back to me in pieces, and I suddenly recalled being led in here and put to sleep. That Old Mereth¡¯s touch! Alator hadn¡¯t returned. I glanced around, starting to panic ¡ª my spear and shield were gone. At some point in the night, they¡¯d even taken my sandals, but my pouch was still on me, and the Stonebear Cloak that Kikiara had given me was still tied around my shoulders. Movement outside, hushed voices through the small paneless window and door frame. I silently withdrew the Frostwaith Claw, still chilled to the touch, and held it under the sheets like a dagger, and kept the other hand in my pouch, a fingertip against the Analysis Card. Slowly and with a great effort to remain quiet, the heavy latch was lifted from outside and the door was creaked open and a crack of lantern light bled through. A hurried hiss from one voice made the other voice whisper something back, then the lantern light was snuffed out. My grip tightened on the long claw as two figures entered the room. The orange skin of the villages, wearing heavy robes that had perhaps once been white but were now blotched dark with smears. I struggled to keep my breathing steady and deep to feign sleep, and pushed down the fear-rage that grew in my heart. Before there¡¯s some kind of rampage, let¡¯s see where this goes. . . . Might be a misunderstanding.
Name : Ishi the Orchard Hand, Level 3
Stats : Str 4, Dex 6, Con 5, Mnd 4
Skills : Herbalism Lvl 1 Shadowcraft Lvl 1
Inventory : Bronze Dagger, Firestarter
Weakness : Fire
Home : Akhur''shet, Barbican
Name : Fennel the Grove Watcher, Level 2
Stats : Str 5, Dex 5, Con 4, Mnd 5
Skills : Mysticism Lvl 1 Shadowcraft Lvl 1
Special : Give And Take
Inventory : Emberwood Staff, Blinding Powder
Weakness : Sluggish reflexes
Home : Akhur''shet, Barbican
As soon as I¡¯d scanned their profiles, I shut my eyes again. No change in their movements ¡ª they were unaware. I heard nothing as they crossed the floor, only the slightest shift of a floorboard right beside the bed. Red behind my eyes. Instinct screamed at me. Perfectly still, my eyes opened a sliver, vision covered by lashes. I dipped into that smooth, clear stream of energy within me, found the glinting lights shining with perfect clarity beneath the surface, and plucked one out. [Battle Tactics]. My blood boiled over as half a dozen possibilities for the next moment played in my mind¡¯s eye. If I stayed still, all I saw was my death. A flash and grunt as a dagger plunged. I snapped my eyes full open and caught the dropping arm, feeling taut but wasted-away muscle beneath a heavy cloth, in tatters and stained near-black with crusted blood. The knife¡¯s bronze point glinted a half-inch from the blanket. The would-be assassin, Ishi, put his other hand on the knife¡¯s hilt and pushed his weight down onto it, but with my Strength, in my tension, it could¡¯ve been a thin branch bent by the wind. ¡°It¡¯s just a bit of blood!¡± came a manic shriek. ¡°The Ember Spirit needs your BLOOOOD!¡± That settles it. I threw the bedclothes off and shot upright. Throwing the arm aside, I brought the razor-sharp claw across and opened the man¡¯s neck in a plume of red. Throwing him to the floor, I launched off the bed, excitement pounding through me. Stepping over the fumbling, gurgling body, I saw Fennel stunned, then drop the lantern with a smash and drip of oil, and move a fumbling grip over his staff. [Battle Tactics] stretched, I ducked the slow first swipe and in one motion my fist closed on what I presumed to be the Firestarter from Ishi¡¯s belt-pouch. Withdrawing a sleek, palm-sized oval of obsidian and resin, and dragged it hard against the floor towards the oil. Sparks erupted and caught the oil and a fast lick of fire ran across the floor. Fennel instantly yelped and turned to flee. I let him go, and took the Bronze Dagger that Ishi had dropped, then stepped over and past his body as he expired, and leapt over the flames to follow. Rushing out, I shouted into the cold night: ¡°Alator! They¡¯re out for blood!¡± As I yelled into the blackness, I saw by the flicker of the firelight behind me a swarm of movement. A crowd waited for me ¡ª a dozen, at least ¡ª with weapons drawn, mouths agape and teeth dripping red, eyes wide with a blaze of madness. Old Mereth stepped out from the sea of bodies. Though her face was still deeply lined, all signs of age was gone from her body as she held the walking stick like a club and stood straight-backed. ¡°It would have been kinder if you¡¯d gone in your sleep.¡± C17 : Moral Lowground A cudgel fell down hard at my shoulder and the wielder uttered a manic shriek that seemed to emanate from elsewhere. It felt an easy dodge ¡ª I¡¯m not sure whether it was the small Dexterity boost or simply being in the New World for a little while, but I felt I was getting used to the way that my body moved. The cudgel hit the floor, spraying up dry red leaves, and as the untrained man stumbled, I sent the point of the Bronze Dagger I¡¯d taken deep between his shoulder blades. I wrenched the dagger free before he dropped hard, whining and squirming on the floor. A dozen remained. They were stout and had orange skin like the emberfruit weighing down the branches of the trees that lay in lines all around the village, just beyond the circle of red-thatched huts. Everyone standing held some kind of weapon ¡ª I spotted iron pokers, a scythe, a hand-saw, but also a few daggers, a bow in quivering hands, and even a couple of spears. Flushes of anger passed through me, tinged with worry, but what really settled was indignance: How dare they do this to us? I was aware that no one knew our purpose here, and I¡¯m sure no one would believe us if we told them, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. ¡°We¡¯re awfully sorry to do this,¡± continued Old Mereth. Of course someone called ¡®Old Mereth¡¯ was a witch ¡ª Alator had even insulted her using the term ¡ª I felt a bit like an idiot. ¡°It is very rare that the Elder Spirit requires two in the same month, but it¡¯s true: the Spirit needs your blood ¡ª and this time, for the first time, it specified your blood.¡± ¡°I¡¯m flattered.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s special about you, we wouldn¡¯t dare ask, but we take the Spirit very seriously. And what it wants, it gets.¡± In mortal servitude to a mysterious force? That seems to be all the rage in Barbican. ¡°Look around you; nearly the whole village has turned up. It provides for everyone here, and further beyond. Our caravans travel weeks north over land to far-flung Cryswood, sharing of our bounty, and we brave the difficult way to Ur-Kadesh, but always the Ember Spirit keeps the way safe.¡± The crowd encroached on me a half-step, but stopped as a final gasp came from the man on the ground and his breath drifted away. As I felt the body still at my feet, I felt a sickening ball of guilt in my stomach, and a couple of questions came to mind: Is this still self-defence? Can I really bring myself to kill these people? The orange faces around me were lit with madness, a blood-craze, or possessed by whatever the Ember Spirit was. They¡¯re not human, not really, but they have lives . . . hopes, dreams, fears . . . It is definitely self-defence, I suppose . . . but is that good enough? Can I bring myself to kill a dozen people in self-defence? Would it be better to destroy whatever was calling itself the Ember Spirit, but in turn doom them all to starvation or migration? . . . Suddenly a whip of air sang past my face and I felt my cheek ring pain. A thud a short distance behind me as an arrow sunk into the wood. I raised my hand to my face and felt a wet, open line across the bone. The pain came afterwards, splitting through me, but my pumping heart kept it from overwhelming. // SYS : No choice. You won¡¯t have the privilege of ethical quandaries when you¡¯re dead. // Unfortunately, she was right. I touched the Analysis Card in my pouch and scanned the crowd, and shocked another use of [Battle Tactics] through my mind. I made note of a few particularly low Stats, and some choice weaknesses. Interestingly, in the few moments I took to do this, one of the weaknesses changed from Afraid to fight alone to Sensitive scalp ¡ª possibly it was the case that if they have a few weaknesses, that the Analysis Card attempts to choose for me the most situationally-appropriate. I pushed my neck to one side, cracking and popping the top few inches of my spine, then stretched my arms and fingers out in front. I¡¯d fallen to sleep before sundown, and it was now well past midnight. New energy flowed through me. Improved Strength, absolutely heroic kills, and the comfortable pressure of [Battle Tactics] still on the walls of my mind, I breathed in the night air deeply. I felt that wild smile reach across my lips, and I think for the first time, really, consciously understood what it was: the love of battle. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. The archer nocked another arrow, but the bow creaked and his stamina was already failing him; the arrow went wide and slapped harmlessly against the stone of the hut. In one motion I ducked low and rushed [Vigour] into my veins. // SYS : Your use of [Vigour] has upgraded the Skill to Level 2. You can now utilise [Vigour : Endurance]. // No time to learn what that meant, but even just using it how I always had been, the change was enormous. Though the instantaneous effect was similar, the leach on my effort was noticeably less. My thighs thrust me forwards towards the group faster than any of them could react and with another [Vigour], my closed fist met the archer¡¯s jaw. His head spun with a wet click and he fell. In the same moment, with the Skill ridging my tendons and sending all my muscles to twitch, I sent a vicious elbow into the back of another¡¯s neck, then with a leap, I buried a knee into a sternum, then changed grip on my dagger, whipped about and slashed it through an exposed thigh. Four people fell about me and were spluttering. The serrated edge of the new Skill nearly moved me to keep up the onslaught, but I relented, took full control, set my instinct to a backseat, and instead took the rippling moment of terror as an opportunity to run from the clearing. I heard shouts from behind me, and Old Mereth barked some orders. ¡°Alator!¡± I called. I charged around the ruby obelisk in the centre of the village, wherein still smouldered those embers from the day before ¡ª much unchanged ¡ª and started glancing at the shadows between houses for my companion. [Vigour] lasted a bit longer, this time, either due to the improvement I got, or because I was only gently exerting myself, and just as it was fading, I saw him step out. ¡°Alator ¡ª you¡¯re safe,¡± I breathed a sigh of relief, but was met with only a level determination. ¡°Talbot, I told you when we met that you needed to learn a thousand things. This is one of them.¡± My breath caught in my throat a second, but centring myself, I found myself still fairly fresh. ¡°You would have let me die!¡± He showed a quick shimmer of pain, but the corner of his mouth twitched a smile, and in his eyes grew the beginnings of that yellow-golden glow that I¡¯d become so familiar with. ¡°But you did not die.¡± Exasperated, I put the conversation on hold. A nigh-on score of the crazed, bloodletting villagers turned the corner and made towards us. ¡°No need to kill them, Alator,¡± I said quickly. Alator gave me a blank expression, in return. ¡°But they said they would kill us,¡± he replied, speaking as if he were explaining a simple concept. Shaking my head, I grabbed his arm, set off at a run, and dragged him after me. After a moment I felt his body stop like iron as his muscles pulled against me. ¡°We need to leave, Alator ¡ª they follow instruction, it¡¯s nothing more than that.¡± ¡°All of them made their choice.¡± I put a fist to his chest and was going to make another plea, but the villagers were almost upon us. Instead I grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerked his head back, sent molten steel through my veins with [Vigour], and pushed him onwards. My legs pumped like a sprinter¡¯s. I didn¡¯t know in truth whether my improved Skill matched up to his passive Stats, or if he just finally accepted my effort as convixion and went along with it, but within a matter of seconds we were fifty yards past the houses into the pure overcast blackness. I made a sudden left turn, went another another fifty yards, down half a dozen lines of trees, and we left the voices far, far behind. Ducking behind a gnarled emberfruit tree, pressed up against the ancient, sweet-smelling yellowish bark, I let go of his head and muttered an apology. He said nothing. Peering around the broad trunk, I saw by a faint flicker that the villagers had lit torches and were searching, but so far in the wrong places. ¡°Okay, Talbot, explain yourself,¡± Alator spoke under his breath, his teeth glinting, but it rumbled out from him, regardless. ¡°Where I¡¯m from, if someone attempts to make good on a promise to kill you, you kill them, first.¡± Then SYS interjected, supporting him: // SYS : That¡¯s what¡¯s needed here, Talbot. // ¡°Well, where I¡¯m from, we consider these things properly. What about the sanctity of human life?¡± ¡°It¡¯s reserved for those who are not trying to kill us,¡± he responded quick as a flash, still keeping his voice low. ¡°B-but . . .¡± my arguments were being reduced to mumbles ¡ª something about the situation felt wrong to me, but I had trouble articulating it. Gathering my thoughts, I leant to keep an eye out again and saw the bobbing lights, still far in the distance. ¡°Even in self-defence, we try to limit unnecessary harm. . . . I don¡¯t want to kill them if I don¡¯t absolutely have to.¡± My companion squinted at me, the yellow-gold point of light fading from his eyes. He opened his mouth, either to assent or to argue further, but it was cut short: A FLASH of bright light erupted from the side of the tree and a ball of embers singed our bare arms, bark burst from the impact and pelted us like sharp needles. Wincing and dropping to one knee, I cradled my damaged arm, using my left as a sling, and spun my head, trying to understand what had happened. Perhaps twenty yards from us, hidden in nearly absolute darkness, I saw the glint of Old Mereth¡¯s red eyes, and the end of her emberwood staff glowed red. I saw her lips begin to move, fast but measured, extremely precise, preparing for something else. Terror crept over me, it felt like I¡¯d been pelted by rubber buckshot, and she was loading another cartridge. But . . . despite that, I couldn¡¯t help but feel the rush of combat and a new ridiculous, giddy excitement: MAGIC! C18 : Showdown in the Groves A thrumming of energy swelled in the place ¡ª the stark red dried leaves that blanketed the floor were picked up as if by a soft wind and moved towards Old Mereth. The witch stood in the darkness, her ancient, cruel, mad orange face lit only by the dim light emitted from the staff in her left hand, and I could see her mouth moving quickly over arcane words. Two fingers of her right hand pointed at us. If Alator had been willing to reason a moment before (I wasn¡¯t certain of this), all traces of thought for the sanctity of human life receded from his mind, to be replaced by animal rage. Bending down, his lips peeled back over glistening, white teeth, his hands touched the floor like a sprinter awaiting the gun, and his feet dug into the punky earth behind him. Subtly, the air shifted again ¡ª there was a near-imperceptible warmth that I barely picked out, and then for a moment like preceding a shockwave the leaves all stopped moving again. Alator of the Solar Wheel took this as his cue, his eyes flashed yellow and golden smoke drifted off them for a moment, then he LAUNCHED himself forwards, covering most of the space between us and the witch easily, and would have likely covered a distance far, far greater had two bodies not thrown themselves in front of Old Mereth as she finished her incantation. The first orchard-folk zealot was SLAMMED out of the way with the initial momentum, bouncing off a wall of muscle and folding backwards into the trunk of a tree with a sickening series of clicks. The second, unaware or uncaring, bear-hugged him and through mortal effort, pinned him to the spot. But only for a moment ¡ª and the effect was tragic. My companion reached his arm backwards and, with nothing more than a blur of movement and another flash of yellow-gold, thrust forwards and dug his thumb and index-finger deep into his opponent¡¯s neck, and tore it out. Spluttering, covering Alator with gluts of arterial spray, the man fell noisily, fingers fumbling helplessly against the unthinkable wound. Another flash and Alator threw the mess in his palm hard at Old Mereth. The bloody pulp hit the woman in the face before she finished her incantation, and I was given my first glimpse at the importance of perfection in casting. As she choked for a moment on the words, her neighbour¡¯s gore stuck in her throat, the staff creaked and after a moment of utter magical silence, the colour in perhaps a five yard area disappeared from the world, then the head of the staff imploded into a single dot with a rush of air like a vacuous inhale. Then it EXPLODED outwards, throwing Old Mereth and Alator away from each other. The golden-haired beast landed on his feet, skidding backwards, and snarled, throwing his head side to side like a wolf looking for prey. Old Mereth did not stand back up. ¡°Alator, that¡¯s enough! Let¡¯s go!¡± My voice came as a croak, and it was possible he did not hear me at all. He leapt forwards and landed hard to reach Old Mereth, body broken and trembling, and scoffed. While he inspected the dying witch, leaning down, there was a sudden movement far to the west of us, back towards the village, and the violent twang of a bowstring. An arrow imbedded itself into Alator¡¯s thigh. He howled and without even looking, threw himself towards the source of it, disappearing into the darkness. Feeling my damaged arm could still be moved, I winced in pain and reached a branch above me, heavy with fruit, to pull myself to my feet. Unbalanced, ears ringing, I stumbled after him through the dark groves, towards flash after flash of yellow-gold light. . . . Not a half-minute later, I came upon the predictable scene. He stood over half a dozen bodies, all beaten to be near-unrecognisable, bones glinting white in the torchlight and a pool of spilled blood at his feet. With his bare hands, as I had always seen him fight, and probably with his teeth as well, he had torn them apart. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Shoulders heaving, breath coming ragged, but not through exertion, he bristled as I approached and in savage, terrifying instinct, turned and threw an arm at me ¡ª luckily, with an open palm. His hand hit my chest, and I was moved back six inches, heels digging into the messy dirt. Wincing, I shot him a glance. His eyes dimmed a little to their normal blue. ¡°It¡¯s time to go, Alator.¡± His red hair settled about his shoulders, and he spat, ¡°The Ember Spirit remains.¡± I knew appealing to his humanity would do no good. That the orchard-folk seemed to rely on this Spirit for their livelihood would make no difference to him. Instead, I threw my good arm out and looked around me. ¡°We have no idea where it is, mate. Or what it is.¡± Alator blew out his cheeks and straightened his back, mumbled, ¡°Fine,¡± and followed me away from the village. As we departed, a few figures ran out of their houses to inspect the bodies, and I was surprised to see over my shoulder that all of them were moving, and a few of them were even able to sit up. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. Alator nodded, and we continued silently. Once again covered in viscera and pocked with wounds, we wandered away from the village to climb to find the lay of the land. Before we made it to the height of the Emberfruit Groves, first light shone out, and for the first time since arriving at Barbican, the clouds parted: the startling morning light of two suns, one white and one red, bathed our bodies. After so long in the dark of stormclouds, I instantly stopped, pressed my eyelids closed, and felt myself drift into a lovely daydream of respite on a warm beach. Feeling a nudge on my shoulder, I opened my eyes to stark reality: blood-soaked Alator, and the pain in my arm. I sighed and carried on. We found a tall hill. Beyond us, past the undulating red-leaved groves, I thought for a moment that the sky had fallen. Out to the horizon was a glassy plane. From where we were, focusing for a moment on any specific area, I saw multiple ledges and layers which broke up the land, and many shards were broken and reached upwards to become natural barriers and small mountains, but taken as a whole in the distance it seemed a perfect mirror-like expanse, stretching in every direction for miles. Alator and I stood dumbstruck for a moment, and as we did, we saw a portion of the land shift in a slow-moving, shallow wave, like a ripple on an otherwise still lake¡¯s surface, then settle again to flat, hard ground. ¡°Wild. . . . Absolutely incredible,¡± I muttered. After a beat, Alator spoke: ¡°We¡¯ll have to watch out for eye-strain, going to be blindingly bright down there.¡± I blinked at him and shook my head, ¡°That was your first thought when looking at miles of moving mirror fields?¡± ¡°No,¡± he shot back, glaring at me, ¡°but it was the first useful thought I had.¡± Useful, eh? For the strange darkness that came upon Alator¡¯s eyes at times, I had avoided asking him about his past, or too much about the world he came from. Truth be told, I was also a little afraid to ask. . . . What harsh experience has he gone through, possibly at the hands of the World-Eater, that has made him this way? We set off down the side of the hill. Where the leaf-covered dirt met the mirror-ground, there was a stretch of maybe fifty yards where the two intertwined; dry leaves scattered over broad, shattered panes of a glassy, obsidian-like material, and shards of broken mirror were strewn over the red-stained dirt. Our first few steps onto the glass crunched, but as we went on the mirror became thicker underfoot, and solid. It was almost as if an enormous inland lake had been turned to glass. // SYS : The Glass Flats! Before you lies a cursed expanse of blinding brilliance and treacherous illusion. Behold, the endless mirror-like surface that stretches far beyond the horizon, reflecting not just the two burning suns above, but the very essence of your soul! Each step you take is gambling your life ¡ª there! You see how the ground ripples beneath your feet as if alive? Gaze upon the brilliant reflections, but tarry not! The scorching day heat sears skin, while the freezing night pierces bones with bitter chill! Beware, traveller, for the greatest danger lies not in the creatures that prowl beneath its surface, but within your own mind! The glass plays tricks, you see ¡ª shows false reflections, turns your every move into a disorienting labyrinth of shimmering illusions. How long can you last before the Flats claim you, leaving nothing but your reflection in their cold, shifting embrace? // Just as soon as I feel like I miss these introductions, another one pops up and reminds me how awful they are. Does everyone get these? // SYS : Yes, but I add a few layers as pleases me. // In future, could you condense them and just tell me the important parts, without all the drama? // SYS : No. // Thanks ¡ª really helpful, as always. C19 : The Glass Flats Soon enough we were lost within the mirror-range. Every few minutes, one of those ripples we saw would pass underfoot; the hard glass surface would shudder beneath us, then bulge one-and-half feet in a strange wave, moving always from east to west. After an hour or so of walking, and perhaps every hour after that, Alator¡¯s eyes gave a faint flash of yellow or gold, I assume firing off whatever passes for [Survivalism] in his alien body. When he did so, he realigned himself, pointed in a certain direction, and gave some reason for choosing it: ¡°Strike the surface, you¡¯ll feel echoes come back to you. In time, your toes will be able to build images in your mind of the things your eyes miss.¡± Or: ¡°Luckily, we still travel by the light of dawn ¡ª using the landmarks that we saw when we entered, we need nothing more than the shadows to orient ourselves.¡± Each time I just gazed in awe and followed him. I wonder how long I¡¯ll have to travel these lands and learn these secrets before I get a level in [Survivalism], myself. As full noon settled overhead, the twin suns raging down on us were reflected ten thousand times from every surface. Keeping my eyes shut to lashes was the only way I could keep moving, but at this point it became painful to keep them open even that much. I staggered and missed a step and fell hard into a shard of the mirror-glass. Catching my fall, my left palm slid down the exposed edge and split open. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s enough, let¡¯s rest until the suns are more kind,¡± Alator said. I nodded, and we retreated to a safe-seeming place. I lay face-down on the ground with my arms over my head. My cheek where the orchard-folk arrow had pierced skin itched awfully in the heat, and the scratches over my arms where the tree had exploded from Old Mereth¡¯s magic stung ¡ª I could still feel the ache from the impact. The glass cut on my palm had stopped bleeding, but my hand was stiff and I dared not make a fist fearing it¡¯d reopen. Statues stood high on plinths sporadically across the expanse. They were all made out of the same mirror-glass so that they looked like they had erupted from the ground fully-formed ¡ª perhaps they had. I could see the head of one over a mirror-ridge, and its hollow eyes peered back at me. I stuck my tongue out at it. At that moment, there was an echoing, reverb-laden splash as, about twenty yards from us, a refracted mirage-like plume of semi-transparent mercury emerged from the unbroken surface. The mercury coalesced into a tall angelfish-shaped fiend with long, feathery fins which flapped like wings to keep it afloat. Alator and I scrambled up and, hands on our brow, trying in vain to cover our eyes from the worst of the light, readied ourselves. It hovered in the air, watching us. There was no enmity from it ¡ª in fact, it seemed quite peaceful. The translucent liquid-metal of its form moved and dripped from it, disappearing back into the clean surface of the glass, and its eyes, huge and lidless, watched us with curiosity. As it hovered, it emitted a pleasant high-pitched hum, and I saw that in front of its dorsal fin was a strange tube that sang like a musical instrument. Then it suddenly opened its jaw, three hinges on each side, revealing lines of needle-like teeth and a whipping bony tongue, thorned and spiked. And with a massive push of its fins, it tore over the mirror towards us. Analysis.
Fiend : Mercurial Cichlid, Level 5
Stats : Str 4, Dex 12, Con 2, Mnd 22
Attacks : Needle Maw, Tongue Spear Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
Loot : Mercury Scale, Cichlid Flute
Weakness : Repeated sharp cuts
XP : 44
Unthinking, I reached for my spear, realising I hadn¡¯t recovered it from Akhur''shet when we¡¯d escaped. Damn. As it rocketed towards us, I drew out the Bronze Dagger that I¡¯d taken from the poor soul in Akhur''shet ¡ª of course I mean the attempted assassin ¡ª from my belt, instead ¡ª the only real weapon I had. Panicked, squinting against the pain of the light, I held the dagger out in front of me. Clutching the handle was painful with my hand, and I felt the cut bead blood. Wincing against the pain, I did a preparatory dip into the soft-flowing stream of my mind, finding it welcoming. It reached us in two seconds. We both managed to jump aside to evade it, but it turned on a pivot, its wing-like fins brushing the ground and throwing its body around as if it moved underwater. Tumbling over, I turned to see the bony spear of its tongue quivering inside its open jaw. Pumping [Vigour] through my body, I leapt again as the tongue shot out of its mouth like a boxer¡¯s straight. Again, activating the improved Skill felt effortless. The fiend¡¯s attack narrowly missed, hitting the ground and echoing a CRACK as the spear-tipped barb pierced the top few layers of the mirror-glass. It flinched at the noise and its tongue withdrew slowly, reeled in by its liquid-metal insides. As it did, Alator hurled himself at it and, eyes flashing yellow, threw a lightning-fast punch. With a dull splash of mercury, its side erupted for a moment, then coalesced as if by its own mental will. Undeterred, Alator followed up with a left hook to its underbelly and a right haymaker to its fin. Same effect; the body sloshed with the impact, then like liquid pouring in reverse-motion, reformed into itself. Screwing up his face, Alator¡¯s brows met in demonic rage. The fish turned again at screaming speed, its jaw lined up with my companion¡¯s face, and with a ripple of scales along its side, it SNAPPED its maw closed ¡ª on nothing; yellow-gold lit the fiend¡¯s features as Alator jumped back. Then he made to jump forwards again. ¡°It¡¯s not doing anything, Alator!¡± With another burst of [Vigour] into my veins, I lunged for it and brought my dagger across my body. It rent a deep line and silently it shrunk away from the cut as if it was in pain. Reaching into my pouch, I grabbed the Frostwaith Claw and threw it across the way. Alator caught it. The beastly angelfish turned to me. ¡°On both sides, we¡¯ve got to keep cutting it!¡± He moved instantly, stepping forwards with yellow smoke drifting from his eyes, and began a frantic onslaught. While it reeled from the impacts, I cut again and again from the other side, while I could. My hand was wet with dripping blood, so I had to grasp the hilt of the dagger ever tighter, and I strained against the true agony as my eyes pulsed against the brightness ¡ª probably missing every other slash ¡ª and kept fighting. Caught so completely between two keen blades, it just twisted its body, the translucent mercury seeming to not be able to focus into a shape ¡ª keeping itself coherent absolutely took mental effort. Helplessly, we continued this attack for a while until it suddenly lashed out in its final death-throe: For a moment, it steeled itself against Alator¡¯s wrath and turned fully to me, its jaw wide open again and its tongue reeled in. The bone-spear vibrated in its mouth and burst out of its mouth towards me. Another pump of [Vigour] sent fire through me and I spun my body on my waist like a top, but not fast enough. The spear cut across the Linothorax on my chest. As the Skill bloated the moment in my perception the attack felt slowed and for a moment I saw the armour stop the spear, but then the moment passed and sickening pain wracked me as it ripped open the stiff linen. Like a serrated barb, it tore through skin and lacerated flesh down to bone. I yelled and wailed and fell to the ground. I saw Alator continue the attack, eyes glowing, face twisted into fury, until he had displaced so much of the liquid-metal that one swipe cut clean through. Large parts of the fish burst and turned fully into liquid and splashed onto the floor, where, just like the bits that had dripped off previously, it fully disappeared into the mirror¡¯s surface. The rest of the carcass dropped with an echoing thud. As it did, reality bled back into Alator¡¯s mind and he glanced to see me on the floor, my chest torn open. Breathing was a struggle. This pain was something new ¡ª I thought of the pains I¡¯d felt in my life; losing fingernails, almost drowning, stubbed toes, bitten tongue, black eye and split lip from a teenage brawl ¡ª BY JOVE this was a whole world of something new ¡ª a whole reality of sudden sharp and dull and rough torture. ¡°Talbot!¡± he slid over to my side and held my head in his hand. I couldn¡¯t take the strain in my eyes any more and shut them hard against the world. The pain in my chest spread to every inch of my body as if my heart thumped torment throughout me. He tore the useless Linothorax off me and, lifting me with one hand, tied the material tight around my chest. The sudden pressure felt like the barb¡¯s first impact again, and I screamed out and my eyes flew open despite the anguish. Alator was crouched over me, his hands outstretched. ¡°Not again ¡ª never again,¡± I heard his voice darkly tumble. The golden filigree from his fingers glowed, and moved up his arms. His face moved through worry and fear to warped suffering. Then, before he could go any further, there was another sick, heavy splashing sound of liquid metal in the distance, then another, then another, then another. C20 : Berserk on the Mesa Half a dozen of those mercury splashes announced the arrival of more and more angelfish fiends. I could barely lift an arm, still paralysed by the shooting pain of the half-inch deep tear of skin, flesh, muscle down to bone from armpit to armpit. Grunting, Alator threw me over his shoulder in a fireman¡¯s lift and the wind RUSHED through my hair as he set off at a sprint. One of the fish materialised in his way, a few feet ahead, and its jaw dropped and its tongue lashed out instantly. FLASH. FLASH. His eyes erupted in yellow-gold and the smoke that poured from them came hot and thick. He held a hand in front of him and the barb impacted. Blood dripped from the wound, but then the fish¡¯s tongue bent and shattered like brittle bone against his palm. It began to reel it back in, the mercury reforming, but he was past it. Another took its place, shooting through the air at high speed, its feathery, draping fins billowing behind it, the pipe atop performing a high pitched, shrieking battle cry. He ducked the first attack, but it turned at a spin and bared its sharp, needle-like teeth. More glints of yellow through the reflective glare of the mirror-world: from my vantage, he was shooting off Skills every few paces. His skin grew searing hot against mine, and the fingers of the one hand that remained gripped tightly around my ankles felt like they were burning me. With a ROAR, and another bright gleam of golden light, he kicked off at speed with both thighs and launched himself into the air, landing running maybe a dozen yards up, and then, nearing another climbing ledge, did the same again. Alator was slick with sweat, panting. He turned fully to glance behind him, and we both saw that the fish fiends had grouped together at the base of the glistening, glass-like mesa plateau ¡ª unable to follow. I dropped off his shoulders and the mad adrenaline pumping through me kept me standing. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re safe here for a moment,¡± grunted Alator, and he fell to his knees with a crunch of glass; it seemed the exertion affected him all the same. ¡°Guess people avoid travelling this place at noon ¡ª seems these fiends were agitated by the light.¡± Managing to nod, I opened my mouth but couldn¡¯t bring out any words. The agony cut through everything. Bleary-eyed, I peeled the corner of the torn, stretched material (which used to be my armour) back a half-inch. I gasped and winced. The wound was difficult to look at: bright white bone glistened and pink muscle and sinew was covered quickly red by pumping blood; it looked like my chest had been repeatedly dragged across a giant cheese grater. ¡°That¡¯s going to take a long time to heal,¡± Alator said. Even through the agony, even through the roaring bedlam in my mind, I heard a faltering to his voice. There was something in his eye as he said it, something licked his words that he couldn¡¯t hide: Alator is worried. Bzz. I vaguely, half-consciously noted the bronze sphere appear next to my head, then duck away, settling against my ear. For the first time, SYS whispered straight into my ear: // SYS : He¡¯s lying. // That felt like my thoughts. Tears streamed my face and I staggered, but I remembered, a moment before the Cichlids spawned, that he was about to do something. ¡°I saw you ¡ª the . . . golden marks on . . . on your arms ¡ª you . . . can help me, can¡¯t you?¡± // SYS : If you do nothing, I¡¯m done for. // I¡¯m going to die. ¡°If nothing¡¯s done, I think that¡¯s it from me,¡± I mimicked. // SYS : Tell him you can handle whatever he can give you. // So much pain. ¡°I can handle whatever you can give me,¡± I sobbed. // SYS : Tell him that you¡¯ll share his curse. // If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Can¡¯t think straight. ¡°I¡¯ll share your curse.¡± What am I saying? I don¡¯t care. I need the pain to end. I NEED THE PAIN TO END. With a severe look, head tilted back against the glare of the ground, Alator met my eyes, and his own glowed yellow. With hindsight, it must have been some kind of [Influence] that overcame me, but the pain receded. My mind, however, was still as hazy as before. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you are agreeing to,¡± Alator¡¯s voice was gravelly harsh and otherworldly, his sharp wolf¡¯s teeth glistened rage. ¡°Those aren¡¯t your words in your mouth.¡± We stared each other down a moment, then his eyes returned to their normal blue. The pain came back in crashing waves and beat a throbbing crescendo against the walls of my skull as it felt like my chest was torn open a second time. I burst into tears and doubled over. ¡°I can¡¯t . . . deal with it, . . . Alator,¡± my breath came in fits and gasps, my chest exploded with anguish with every rasping rise and fall. ¡°It¡¯s . . . too much. I can . . . barely breathe.¡± ¡°This pain will pass, Talbot.¡± ¡°I want it gone now!¡± Starting with just a tickle along my spine, the agony of my chest was slowly turning into anger. Prickling irritation like thorns wrapped around my brain, and I found myself in a slow rage. Alator lifted himself groaning up to his feet to meet my eye-line. His face showed empathy, which pissed me off even more, but it also showed the slightest glimmer of appeasement, of . . . fear? What¡¯s he afraid of? What could HE possibly be afraid of? ¡°I¡¯ve seen the wound ¡ª if you make it, in a few short weeks all of this will be forgotten.¡± IF I make it? // SYS : Weeks? That¡¯s too long. I¡¯ll be dead in an hour. // ¡°That¡¯s too long!¡± I straightened up and shook my head. The pain still vibrated my whole frame, but just as powerful was the vicious anger within me. ¡°It would have been a mistake to ask you to share my burden. I was not thinking clearly. You can survive this wound. You must. Though it may ¡ª¡± ¡°May what?¡± I spat the words. I knew the answer. // SYS : I can barely breathe ¡ª something¡¯s damaged in there. Feels permanent. // ¡°You¡¯re selfish. You won¡¯t share your power. I can see the cuts on your arm from that fiend in the forest are already healed. The great Prowling Beast, was it? Mewling Beast! Combative Flame? COWARD!¡± ¡°Talbot, you are not ¡ª¡± I roared, the anger turned to something else in my blood and I was filled with a radiating, upwards-spiralling energy. Heat poured from me. Alator took a step backwards. ¡°THEN LEAVE ME!¡± With the slightest movement of my toes, I rushed forwards, made to throw my shoulder into him. He widened his stance like a sumo wrestler as I¡¯d seen him do before, and threw open his arms. The upwards spiral became nuclear. He treats ME like a monster? GOOD. The moment before impact, I realised he wasn¡¯t drawing on his inner power. I¡¯LL MAKE HIM. Every muscle in my body felt brand new, my heart pumped sinister pressure into my arm and I met him as he wanted. Alator was cast wide. His arms clapped in front of his body as his chest was beaten in and he was thrown off the mesa like a leaf tossed by a storm. NOT GETTING AWAY. The upwards spiral concentrated for a moment in my feet and I tensed down. It felt a physical manifestation in my body, an erratic passenger in my soul, but it was nothing less than survival instinct and action ¡ª and that was EVERYTHING. My sandals were torn to shreds between my toes and every part of the mirror-glass of the twelve or so yards of the mesa shattered and was thrown in every direction. I LAUNCHED myself after him, and in a fraction of a second I was on him in the air. He was limp as he fell ¡ª consciousness came back to him just in time to witness me. A moment before impact, an ugly grin took his face all curiosity and madness and his red lips peeled back showing glinting, sharp teeth bared in his clenched jaw. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± he roared up at me. ¡°Only THIS is living!¡± Both still airborne, hurtling towards the mirror surface, I ¡ª or my passenger ¡ª drew back a fist, and threw a full punch. FLASH of light ¡ª his eyes beamed yellow-gold. FINALLY! With his strengthened body, he raised his guard. The fist pummelled into his forearms, sending them back hard into his face, which was knocked back at a harsh angle, and his body went limp again. Alator collided with a vertical ledge and crunched into the searingly bright glass, suspended in the cavity he¡¯d made for a moment, then fell forwards onto the ground. I landed VIOLENT on my bare feet, cracking the surface of the mirror in every direction. I had to pull up hard to break my feet out of their craters, spraying sparkling dust all around. Stamping to him, I grabbed his shoulder and turned him over. I put my grip around his neck and pulled his head up from the ground, it lolled backwards. Thin lines of blood came diagonally from his nose and mouth. His eyes opened uneasily, he blinked and slowly focused on me, bringing his head forwards with a wince. Reaching up, he grabbed my forearm with both hands. His lips moved but his voice was muffled. I lowered my head to his and gave him an ear. ¡°This won¡¯t change my mind, Talbot.¡± Through gritted teeth I hissed at him, inches from his face. ¡°I¡¯m not out to change the mind of a dead man.¡± He shook his head, and lifted one finger to point. ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± I dropped him to the ground, raised both fists and clasped them together tightly. The upwards spiral rippled through my body and sent a volatile charge through my arms. I felt crazy, like some savage thing. I had to follow through. Alator looked at me pleadingly. His eyes were bloodshot. A tear beaded but didn¡¯t break. He closed his eyes. I brought my fists down. C21 : Taking Stock With a SMASH my fists broke deep into the mirror-glass beside Alator¡¯s head. I roared my rage out until lungs were empty and my voice was hoarse, and raised and pummelled the ground again. Opening his eyes, Alator flinched away as shards pelted him, but couldn¡¯t yet muster the strength to drag himself away. Movement. I glanced around and saw three of the Mercurial Cichlids float round a corner. They must have been the ones that followed us to the mesa, now drawn by the noise. Spotting me, they all dropped open their vacuous maws, bone-tongue glinting, and sped towards us. Alator tried to turn over onto his side and put an arm under himself to rise, but slipped and fell onto the cracked mirror. ¡°Talbot ¡ª run.¡± But my mind was still ELECTRIC. The steaming buzz of the upwards spiral that coursed through my veins burnt like plasma, but I knew all I had to do was direct it somewhere ¡ª ANYWHERE. [Battle Tactics], [Vigour], [Weapon Mastery], my Skills pulsed on immediately, one-by-one, at my slightest thought. As if the world had slowed, every part of my surroundings was made clear to me in solely utilitarian terms ¡ª the world was only a tool for my warfare. Kicking down, I dug my toes a few layers deep into the glass beneath, then by dragging my foot forwards through the ground, and flicking my ankle, I threw hundreds of shards into the air. Choosing one carefully, but in a moment, I snatched a long, wide shard which seemed to me to be hanging suspended and held it aloft like a javelin. The fiends were still so far away. Before the rest of the glass had even started to fall back towards the ground, I pitched the shard with my steel muscle fibres at full burst. It flew with a scream through the air and carved into and past one of the fish, its mercury body halving, one half splashed to the floor and disappeared, the other remained coalesced and fell into a messy pile of translucent scales and thick liquid-metal. The other two continued unabashed, stretching their spear-barb tongues out and rocketing onwards. Their unnerving flute-like tubes sung out as they did, and their fins were tight to their tall, thin bodies. I clicked my teeth and Alator covered his face with his arms as the glass shards fell all about us, shattering into dust. I wanted to tear into the other two enemies with my bare hands. Instinct had me reach for the Analysis Card.
Fiend : Mercurial Cichlid A, Level 5
Stats : Str 4, Dex 12, Con 2, Mnd 22
Attacks : Needle Maw, Tongue Spear
Loot : Mercury Scale, Cichlid Flute
Weakness : You
XP : 44
Fiend : Mercurial Cichlid B, Level 5
Weakness. . . . I threw my head back and laughed. Well done, SYS! They were on us. Both went for me, the bigger target, and reached me a few seconds apart. The spiked tongue shot out of the mouth. I moved aside lazily and plucked it from the air, held it tight like my old bronze spear. THIS dealt me a mortal wound? The fish thrashed against my grip and the other came on quickly. Leaning back on my heels, I twisted my torso and brought my arms full-stretched about to spin the fiend around me, turning on the spot. [Weapon Tactics]. It felt entirely second nature to me that I had first used the environment as a weapon, and now I used another enemy. At such speed, centrifugal force sent large beads of liquid-metal running down its body towards its tail, contorting its shape. Then I launched it like a hammer throw at the other. With a sickening slap the two bodies collided in the air and burst into a fountain of translucent silver mercury. Most of their bodies exploded outwards and after splashing on the floor, disappeared into the cracked mirror surface, though at least a part of them maintained shape and fell with a plop. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± I called into the space. All that came back was my own voice, echoing a thousand times into nothingness. Near-complete silence returned to the flat ground ¡ª only the slight shifting and crunching of glass around us. Sweat pouring off me, I turned back to Alator to find him sitting up on the floor, his arms trembling, but his face reticent. He nodded to me. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°That was incredible.¡± For a moment, a flash of pure rage came to my mind, but with a twitch and a clench of jaw, I managed to still it. At that moment, with both hands on the wheel of control, I felt myself deflate. The upwards spiralling energy evaporated and my ability poured away from me like breaking a dam. My shoulders slumped, I dropped from my toes back on my heels and wavered for a moment, and my vision was struck by the painful sunlight again. I felt spent, but not necessarily exhausted. ¡°Look, Talbot, I ¡ª¡± Alator started, but I held up a hand. Embarrassingly, for a moment I couldn¡¯t even remember what we¡¯d been fighting about. My chest! I looked down and peeled back a corner of the torn Linothorax; the bare torn red muscle and sinew had been replaced by new skin, and all that remained of the ghastly death-wound was a graze ¡ª albeit ugly and wide, beading red. The mottled burn-wounds I¡¯d sustained while underneath the living furnace of the demon armadillo were nearly completely healed, as was the glass cut on my palm from the morning, the arrow-cut on my cheek from Akhur''shet the day before, and the impact bruises on my arms from Old Mereth¡¯s magic ¡ª all were settled into very fine and faint scars. ¡°Forget it,¡± I said. ¡°Water under the bridge.¡± Alator struggled to his feet and, meeting my gaze but visibly unsure, nodded, then started to inspect the bruises and blood on his body. I realised then I¡¯d lost the Bronze Dagger somewhere in the confusion. I sent a probe out. BUZZ. The little bronze sphere appeared next to my ear. Its electric-blue eye slowly peeled open across its diameter. // SYS : You gained 22 XP when Alator defeated the Mercurial Cichlid. You also gained 132 XP for defeating the three Mercurial Cichlids. You now have 181 and need 102 total for the next Level. // Let¡¯s deal with that, first. Strength. // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 6. Your Strength Stat is now 12. You have 79 XP remaining and need 108 total for the next Level. // H¡¯m, probably should have done Dexterity to help with the grind, or even Constitution to assist in these awful environs. // SYS : I¡¯m not finished, but . . . you might not like what I¡¯m about to say. // A ball of dread rose to my throat. I had an inkling. . . . // SYS : You gained 34 XP for defeating Ishi the Orchard Hand. You now have 113 and need 108 total for the next Level. // A foul, dry taste took over my mouth and my stomach turned. Dexterity, this time. // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 7. Your Dexterity Stat is now 8. You have 5 XP remaining and need 115 for the next Level. // Forcing down the repulsive nausea, I tried to focus again. Anyway, now, SYS, what you said ¡ª you were egging me on. // SYS : My prerogative is the same as every System¡¯s ¡ª to accompany you on your journey. // You manipulated me! // SYS : Talbot, remember ¡ª your quest is quite different, and quite a bit more important, than any other in this World. So I will also do what I can to bring out your potential. // Potential! I scoffed. This was going nowhere. I had no doubt that SYS was as morally bankrupt as Alator was. Anyway, that WAS incredible ¡ª Warrior¡¯s a broken class. // SYS : You think everyone¡¯s [Berserk] is like that? . . . No, Talbot. It might not be accurate ¡ª or at all acceptable or decent ¡ª to call you the Chosen One, but you are one of the chosen, and for a very good reason. You have a great and ambitious capability in you. // But you¡¯re not going to spell that ambitious capability out for me, are you? . . . Not even a hint? . . . Didn¡¯t think so. Anyway, that¡¯s the third time in two days that I¡¯ve been ¡ª ¡°You cracked a rib,¡± Alator said, leaning and rubbing the side of his chest. ¡°But, as you¡¯ve realised, I heal faster than most. I¡¯ll still be able to walk with this.¡± ¡°Hold on, let me speak to SYS a moment.¡± I am constantly at risk of dying in this World. // SYS : As advertised. // She had a point. Listen ¡ª give me some guidance. What am I doing here? // SYS : You are here to avert catastrophe, to face the World-Eater. // Yes, thanks, but that doesn¡¯t really help me. What about the guy who was fighting it the first time we met? // SYS : I told you before, there was no other. You have only your own ability in this world. I have also provided you a tutor, Alator. // Forget it. What Level should I be before I face it? Should I find some big open field with lots of fiends and kill as many as I can every day, for XP? // SYS : There¡¯s not really a simple answer ¡ª // Just admit that you don¡¯t know. // SYS : ¡ª but you are on the right track. Awakening your [Berserk] Special is a firm step in that direction. . . . Are you asking for spoilers about Barbican? // Sure, whatever. I almost felt the bronze orb sigh. Its eye definitely narrowed. // SYS : Past the Glass Flats and over the Breathing Sands, you will find the Coral Town of Zhai-Khul, and from there, you will pass underneath the Quartz Ribs of Hulgar to reach the Hanging City of Ith-Korr. Ith-Korr is perhaps the second-largest settlement in Barbican. If you recall, I gave you pretty solid advice to understand your abilities, attain power, and make new allies. You need to actually meet other people in order to ally with them. // Preferably other people who don¡¯t want my ¡ª and I quote ¡ª BLOOOD. // SYS : That would be best, yes. // And are we talking natives of Barbican, or people from another World, like me? // SYS : Yes. // It would be really helpful if you had a register or something I could look at ¡ª there must be a few people in Barbican who have vastly greater Stats than I do, that would be able to help? // SYS : . . . I¡¯m afraid my kind can¡¯t share information about our assignments ¡ª we¡¯re in the dark. // The suns, one red and one white, had dipped slightly in the sky, but the reflections in the mirror-world about us were still painful and strong, and I imagined the danger from the angelfish fiends still remained. ¡°Learn anything?¡± Alator asked. I shook my head. ¡°We need to get going, Alator ¡ª out of the Glass Flats to the Breathing Sands, short stop in a Coral Town, then some more Ribs, then the Hanging Gardens of Babylon ¡ª¡± // SYS : Hanging City of Ith-Korr. // ¡°The Hanging City of Ith-Korr. Apparently, our destiny takes us there.¡± ¡°Apparently? Does that foul System not know?¡± ¡°No, and I don¡¯t find it very satisfying, either, but we¡¯re certain to get some good Experience on the way, and maybe eat some more great food.¡± ¡°You mean have some good experiences?¡± As a knee-jerk, he corrected me like a father would a child. ¡°Sure,¡± I shrugged. ¡°So. . . . Can you do your thing and point us in the right direction?¡± Alator nodded, centred for a moment, and after a dull glow of yellow light, turned squinting forwards in the direction of the suns, and set off. While we walked, the ground gradually became less sure beneath our feet ¡ª higher traffic, or heavier fiends, had made this place a stomping ground, and whatever reformed the mirror surface couldn¡¯t keep up with the damage. The first few minutes passed with sheer luck, but eventually I crunched into a pile of dusty glass and tore the sole of one of my feet open. Damn! Remembering that my sandals had been splintered into loose wicker at some point during the fight, I picked some of the larger glass shards out of my foot. I untied the ruined Linothorax from my chest, seeing as the wound was almost healed, tore it in two, and wrapped it as best I could around each foot. There we go, now I look totally insane. C22 : Forth Over Sand My makeshift sock-shoes did fine in protecting my feet, and honestly having just the light tunic on made my armpits nice and breezy while walking across the stark, suns-strewn mirror-plane. We walked at a good pace, manoeuvring around large jutting shards, climbing ledges, and stamping across particularly badly-broken parts, and very happily didn¡¯t come across any more of the angelfish fiends. Just as I was wondering how long it would take to cross this place, seeing as I couldn¡¯t see any end to it on the horizon before we entered, Alator piped up: ¡°Hot breeze from this direction, dry and salty.¡± ¡°Must be the Breathing Sands.¡± Gradually, the mirror-smooth surface became more and more marred with scratches and dimples, as if the glass softened and sagged on top of another unsteady surface beneath, and the odd wave and ripple that was sent through was weaker, like the foam of a wave broken far beyond the shore. The reflections grew hazier, warping our surroundings to a mess of a wavering mirage. Then, the glass was gone ¡ª pale blue shifting sands whispered before us in swirls. A hum reverberated the air and underfoot was a slow rumble as if standing above an underground railway station. Soon, we were up to our ankles in rising and falling dunes. The air was also moved about by gusts of wind that stirred the sands into fleeting serpentine shapes that then crumbled back into the spreading surface. We gladly left the gleaming horizon of the Glass Flats behind us; despite the weird undulation and hum, and the pale blue of the sand, the place felt a lot more familiar. The desert ahead wasn¡¯t boundless, either; whenever we climbed to the height of one of the dunes we were treated to an awesome panorama: To the west were more mountains, continuing the rugged heights of the Shards of Korgoth, I supposed, but no longer unnaturally spiked. The north-east and east was a far-off horizon, the furthest I could see, but right at the line before the curve of the world there was a thin strip of darkness which I imagined was the start of ¡ª knowing Barbican ¡ª some awful, inhospitable sea. But the north was our destination: already, spots of orange or red were dotted down at a point. ¡°That¡¯ll be Corel ¡ª I mean Coral Town.¡± Alator suddenly dropped to the surface of the sands, and I followed suit in a heartbeat. Warm grains of blue sand were blown about my face as I looked over to him. He put a finger to his lips, then indicated over a dune. I slowly crept forwards, arm-over-arm, until, pressed against the cusp, I peered over. Within a kicked-up blue cloud perhaps a hundred yards away, a nest of cat-sized scorpions skitted and scrambled over one another. It took me a moment to see that they were feasting on another fiend, four-legged, similar in shape to a mole, but the size of a small car and covered by reflective plates that matched the Glass Flats at our back. Its head moved up to the sky and it brayed loudly, echoing pain over to us. I watched for another moment and touched the Analysis Card in my pouch.
Fiend : Dune Reaver A, Level 2
Stats : Str 2, Dex 4, Con 5, Mnd 1
Attacks : Pincer, Poison Sting
Loot : Chitin Fragments, Reaver Venom Gland
Weakness : Unwilling to retreat
XP : 12
Fiend : Dune Reaver B, Level 2
Weakness : Unwilling to retreat
Fiend : Dune Reaver C, Level 2
Weakness : Easily goadedUnauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
Fiend : Dune Reaver D, Level 2
Weakness : Flees when alone
Fiend : Glassback Burrower, Level 9
Stats : Str 15, Dex 4, Con 18, Mnd 2
Attacks : Burrow Ambush, Shattering Claw
Loot : Glassback Carapace, Essence of Mole
Weakness : Sensitive underside
XP : 86
Even without pinging [Battle Tactics], a plan started to form ¡ª C, A, B, D. Near a hundred Experience (the Burrower being near death) was painful to give up. . . . [Berserk] seemed to have given me back a modicum of energy in that I definitely didn¡¯t feel ready to keel over. In the moment, the sharp pain in my mind from the mirror-world receding, I suddenly realised that I had felt completely justified in my actions; the overflowing violence had been necessary to me, and the upwards spiralling energy I had felt was more empowering than it had been manipulative. I pocketed that thought. I needed to learn more about the [Berserk] Special, and I was sure it would only kick in while in extremely high-charged life or death scenarios, so it might take some time. Who am I kidding? I face death every day. It could be tomorrow! Glancing aside, it seemed the relatively gentle walk (read: intensive hike) had returned some of the skip to Alator¡¯s step, but regardless, neither of us were in any position to take any more hits. And besides, I desperately wanted to find a safe place to sleep. Unbidden, I daydreamed for a moment about my Assigned MegaCorp Domicile back home ¡ª the scratchy polyester sheets, the memory foam that seemed to be very forgetful, the six-by-six-inch porthole in the corner through which I could see the smog and the rising black chemical smoke of the industrial estate. . . . Okay, maybe I¡¯ll stop complaining about Barbican so often. While lying on the ground, I got my first uneasy justification for the name of this desert; there was a rasping movement beneath the surface, as if an old man was taking his dying breaths. It made me shudder and pull away from the pale sky-sand, and I slid back down the side of the dune to where Alator still lay. ¡°Give them a second,¡± he told me. ¡°They¡¯ll gorge themselves fat in a minute and we¡¯ll be able to get by undetected.¡± ¡°Oh-ho, the Prowling Beast, hiding from a fight?¡± ¡°I¡¯m hiding you from a fight,¡± he shot back. ¡°Don¡¯t test me.¡± ¡°Watch how you speak to me,¡± I joked, ¡°or I¡¯ll have to knock you unconscious again.¡± He turned to me, eyes flashing anger, but emptied his lungs and calmed himself. Okay, too soon to joke about that. As he said, a few minutes later we stood and cautiously passed them with a wide berth, and they barely moved an inch, half protecting the still meat-heavy kill, half basking in the sun. Onwards, the sea closed in on us from the east, and I saw the large patterns of coral were built onto it like a harbour or lake-town. Again, I praised my decision to tie the ripped Linothorax around my feet as the sand underfoot quickly became pitted by gritty and sharp fragments of bleached coral. The desert¡¯s air, though still dry and searing, became more comfortable as a faint salt breeze met us head-on. Ahead, the Coral Town of Zhai-Khul rose from the ground as the multi-tiered remnants of a great reef. Pale coral structures, weathered smooth, had been shaped into twisting, organic-styled spires. At a certain point a light whistle reached our ears of wind passing through the porous streets. Just before two walls of hardened coral, which enclosed the town¡¯s entrance but was open towards the sea, stood a line of tall plinths carved from single pieces of coral. Atop each stood a humanoid figure with an enormous half-shell sitting on their back like rounded shoulders and a low head, tree-trunk-stocky legs and almost comically large hands that were covered in hardened leather-like skin. Each held a spear, long enough to reach the ground from where they stood aloft, to protect the gate. Sheepishly, we approached, but the spearmen gave us no heed ¡ª or if they did, their dark, sunken eyes gave no hint beneath the rim of their shell, so we passed by. As we did, I was extremely glad to find the town was alive with bustle. Despite the bright, natural beauty of the place, it felt a little claustrophobic. Many of the same folk as those standing atop the pillars walked the streets, or laboured away in workshops, or stood behind stall or barrow and peddled wares. But there were many other types of people besides, whether desert tribesmen, skin the colour of the pale blue sands, wrapped in light linen, or those from even further afield. A tortoise-man stepped forwards on heavy, flat soles and threw his thick arms wide open. Though difficult to tell, he was an older man with a long beard of sea-weed-like hair, braided with bright orange coral shards. ¡°Welcome to Zhai-Khul, home of the Khalnari! I¡¯m Gatekeeper Fis,¡± his voice was dry like a desert wind, and he nodded respectfully. As a corporate reflex, I held out a hand. He took it with his plate-sized vice-fists and shook it. ¡°Talbot, and this is my companion, Alator.¡± ¡°Pleasure! You came from the south, didn¡¯t you? We don¡¯t see many from the Flats.¡± ¡°We passed through Akhur¡¯shet and are in need of sustenance and rest.¡± ¡°Akhur¡¯shet! Oh, isn¡¯t it lovely there? The fruit is absolutely to die for! Deliveries from the Shetari are few and far between, but when they happen, well, I¡¯d flog my shell for a glass of emberfruit juice on a day like today!¡± I narrowed my eyes, speaking before thinking: ¡°They didn¡¯t try to kill you, I take it?¡± He blinked, and his brow lowered as his head inclined to look me straight in the eye, and I instantly realised how badly that could be misunderstood. ¡°I don¡¯t mean ¡ª¡± ¡°Whatever your business was with the orchard-folk, you¡¯re welcome here . . . for now. Keep to the main thoroughfare, don¡¯t cause any problems and we¡¯ll set you on your way in the morning, fed and slept well.¡± I nodded, deflating. Alator shrugged ¡ª I¡¯m certain he wouldn¡¯t have done any better: Perhaps if he had butted in first, we¡¯d already be chased out. The coral-man forced a wide smile, cracking his grey-green skin ear-to-ear (did he have ears? I couldn¡¯t properly tell). ¡°Our most renowned watering hole is the Coral Wraith,¡± he pointed the turtle-elephant arm down the way, ¡°They¡¯ll have a room for you. . . . Oh, and don¡¯t break parts off the houses as a souvenir! Otherwise, we¡¯ll take a hand.¡± We gave a curt, polite bow, and shuffled past him onto the main street. ¡°He means he¡¯d cut off our hand if we stole something?¡± I said aside. ¡°That¡¯s fairly standard punishment ¡ª quite lenient compared to some of the remaining settlements in my World,¡± Alator muttered, and even as he did, a coral-folk woman passed us with a bound wrist, missing a hand. I gulped. Clearly, I still had lots to learn about Barbican, and a lot still to learn about Alator. C23 : Zhai-Khul Strands of dried kelp and strings of sparkling shells softly brushed our heads as we ducked beneath the coral archway into the inn. The interior of the Coral Wraith was intimate and cool. The first thing that caught my attention was a hearty, pungent smell of cooking food. A low fire gently crackled in a sunken pit in the centre of the room with different strangely-coloured cubes of meats on skewers, dripping sizzling fat into it. The walls were made of pale coral, and within carved, ornately-decorated alcoves, fur-covered benches were set around tables, polished smooth by years of rested hands. There were a few patrons, mostly coral-folk, sat about deep in drink and conversation, but I passed as a blur to the small bar, behind which were lined on coral shelves salt-encrusted corked bottles and clay jugs. Greeting us was a coral-folk woman with an air of calm authority, black hair streaked with grey poured thinly from her pate, and stormy-grey, wrinkled eyes set on us warmly as we leant against the bar. She uncorked two bottles of water with her thick, hard-skinned fingers and set them down on the bar. Breathing out a quick, ¡°Hullo,¡± I guzzled down gulps, then coughed, spluttered, and continued until half was downed, and gave a long whistling exhale. ¡°Been out on the Sands too long, eh?¡± her voice was rough and commanding, but her mouth was set in a wry smile. ¡°I¡¯m Madam Kal, and this is the Coral Wraith, home of the chargrilled kraken skewer. What can I do you for?¡± I chuckled at the familiar turn of phrase, and gave the same quick introduction I¡¯d given to Gatekeeper Fis. As I spoke, hunger hit me like a brick wall. Skill use definitely seemed to spike the appetite, and I¡¯d hardly eaten anything for days. I immediately requested two of the skewers. Madam Kal clicked her fingers, though the sound was more like the snapping of crab claws, and a young coral-folk, or Khalnari, still soft-shelled, stumbled through a wall of seaweed and crustaceans behind her and raced over to the fire. Skewer in hand, feasting on the bouncy, but not too tough, meat, I turned to the room and reached for the Analysis Card in my pouch. Nothing stood out, save for a blue-skinned desert-folk man named Nishir the Salt-Walker, who sat in the corner of the room, eyes lost in thought under a dark frown, absent-mindedly pressing a fishbone knife into the table with one finger and spinning it with the other. ¡°You two seem on edge. Did Fis give you a hard time?¡± ¡°That¡¯s one of the reasons,¡± I mumbled with my mouth full, then swallowed. ¡°We¡¯ve had a difficult road, and we¡¯re not sure how to reach our destination. Do you know the Hanging City of Ith-Korr?¡± Wiping down a glazed coral mug, she nodded, ¡°Of course ¡ª the Jewel of the Boiling Sea! You can get there on foot by following the coastline, though you¡¯d have to pass beneath the Ribs, and they¡¯ve been fraught with highwaymen of late. . . . Better to check the port to see if any boats are heading up that way soon.¡± ¡°Boats! Of course! Alator, let¡¯s do the next leg of the journey sitting on a lovely boat, drink in hand, gentle breeze in our hair, wistfully moving over the . . . why¡¯s it called the Boiling Sea?¡± // SYS : BEWARE the Boiling Sea! See how its blackened waters churn with volcanic fury beneath, geysers erupting like the breath of titans! Hear the tortured groan of the hull as vessels barely cling to survival, as moment-to-moment they could be capsized, their foolish sailors thrown into the treacherous abyss! Pray ¡ª for here, even the sea itself burns with malice! Here, where steam rises in pillars from the depth ¡ª // I get it, thanks. ¡°It¡¯s not actually boiling,¡± shrugged Madam Kal. ¡°Only in one or two places, mostly it¡¯s just scalding. Soft things like you''d be burnt pink in moments. Anyway, if you get the right sailor, they¡¯ll be able to navigate the hot patches and avoid the fumes, and you¡¯ll be at Ith-Korr before you know it.¡± ¡°Hot patches . . . fumes . . .¡± I muttered. Nothing in this world is normal. ¡°I don¡¯t like the sea, but that is probably safer than walking the roads,¡± Alator accepted. ¡°We could use another few days to recover from these wounds. That¡¯s settled, then.¡± Why didn¡¯t you suggest sailing, SYS? // SYS : BEWARE the Boiling Sea! See how ¡ª // Okay. Alator turned to Kal, ¡°Do you know any coral-folk who might be happy to ferry us up tomorrow?¡± She thought for a moment, setting a glass down and pulling on the loose skin of her neck absent-mindedly with her enormous tortoise-paw. ¡°Raik, maybe? He¡¯s an old hat, but he¡¯s survived the worst the Boiling Sea has to offer ¡ª spent his whole life on the water. Sorry, I don¡¯t spend much time by the port, and we don¡¯t get many sailors in the Coral Wraith. . . .¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Not to worry. Do you have a room for us?¡± Alator asked. ¡°Of course,¡± Madam Kal said. The little Khalnari boy had his hands up on the bar, peering at us in turn. I made funny faces at him and he giggled. Addressing him, she said, ¡°Can you make up a room? How many ¡ª¡± ¡°Two beds,¡± I said. She nodded, and shooed the boy away, and he ran down the low coral hallway, his soft shell shifting slightly on his back, and disappeared through a thin driftwood door. As I lay in bed that night, I spent a little time reaching my consciousness deep into that slow-flowing stream of power. I found that the Skills within, though white at first glance, all had very slightly different glows to them ¡ª [Battle Tactics] was an urgent crimson red, [Weapon Mastery] was a cold steel blue, and [Vigour] was an enduring burnt orange. [Vigour], as a clear representation of its Level improvement, had another orb connected to it and now sat at the bottom of the stream like small amber beads. Feeling the energy of each at my fingertips, I noticed also a couple more very slight hints of colour beneath the surface of the water: a natural forest green and an earthy sandy brown. Are those new skills, SYS? // SYS : Are you asking for more spoilers about Barbican? // Is it possible the knowledge could save me from a horrible death? // SYS : . . . Yes. Your passive exploits over the past few days have led to burgeoning arrivals of [Beast Mastery] and [Survivalism]. You have not yet reached Level 1 in either of these Skills, so you cannot call upon them, but continue as you are, and they will form. // Man I really wished I¡¯d done more research before deciding on Barbican. . . . There was a twinge of guilt in my stomach for constantly asking SYS about the World¡¯s secrets, or maybe I thought that I¡¯d just have more fun discovering this myself. [Beast Mastery] must have something to do with improving my utility while interacting with beasts in the same way as [Weapon Mastery] does for weapons ¡ª that is, communicating with animals. I had a feeling I had witnessed multiple uses of [Survivalism] by Alator while passing through the Glass Flats, allowing him to read signs from the World and decide on a path even when completely lost. Excited, I threw myself off the bed and did a similar exercise, but for my physical body. Stretching gradually, then quite erratically, I found myself limber and powerful in ways that I would have never dreamed of, back on Earth. Testing my newfound Strength and Dexterity, my muscles responded with fluid ease. I felt like a child again ¡ª an invincible child. I dropped into a deep squat, then sprang back up effortlessly, throwing myself back over myself and twisting, then landing perfectly in a 180-backflip. I grinned, then lunged forwards, grunting and imagining a foe ¡ª my old MegaCorp boss, as it happened ¡ª and shadowboxed with my newfound brilliance. ¡°Go to sleep,¡± Alator grumbled from his cot. ¡°Can¡¯t,¡± I said, continuing to throw punches and duck imagined attacks. ¡°Then get out.¡± He threw a jute cushion, which I caught, and he rolled over. I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head and left the room. The tavern was empty at this point, though the faint flickering of an oil-lamp was visible through the seaweed curtain behind the bar. Moving silently, I passed through and outside. A beautiful chill crept on the night, and the breeze carried salt and brine that crept up the sides of houses and overhead, in the far dome-arc of the sky, glinted thousands of stars. It turned out there were three moons, smaller than our own, set at rough cardinal points. I stood for a moment in the middle of the empty street, staring up at the faint light. How long had it been since I¡¯d seen the stars? Have I ever really seen them? . . . The morning brought the heat again, and the scent of roasting meat; a satisfying breakfast of yet more seared kraken ¡ª the taste and texture easily overlooked by my empty and still-demanding stomach ¡ª crispy kelp pancakes drizzled with a sweet fish oil, and a few mouthfuls of a mashed starchy vegetable called saltroot. We then settled up for drinks, food and board (four copper), and made quickly to the main thoroughfare. In the kind short hours after dawn, there was a pleasant buzz to the town. Where the teeming streets of the late afternoon the day before had felt overwhelming, like the coral walls were closing in, they now seemed only peaceful and welcoming. Through gaps in the tall, twisted-spire coral buildings, we caught glimpses of the glistening dark sea beyond, but we stopped at a few stalls on the way. I bought some sandals with a tight string-tied fit (two copper), but couldn¡¯t find any replacement armour. Then, a coral-folk merchant, introduced as Sed, beckoned us with such an emphatic spiel that we were drawn over naturally. His eyes were large and bright under his shell, which had been painted with pictures of the sea. Beneath a colourful awning, painted in the same style as his shell, were shelves piled high with strange items ¡ª woven baskets full of shimmering fish scales, multi-coloured seaweed and little, misshapen pearls. Clearly we had looked over everything for a moment too long, as his voice became hurried: ¡°Looking for something specific, traveller? I¡¯m sure Sea-Shell Sed has everything you seek, if you can pay the price. . . .¡± ¡°Journeying food,¡± I said, simply. ¡°And directions, if you could, to the nearest weapon craftsman.¡± ¡°A blacksmith?¡± Oh, yeah, I¡¯d forgotten the word. ¡°Do you need it written down?¡± my companion leaned into Sed''s shed. Can forever count on Always Aggravated Alator to hurry an awkward social situation along ¡ª or make it exponentially more awkward . . . and potentially deadly. Sed handed over six dense flatbreads ¡ª what he called Seaflour Loaf ¡ª for two pieces of copper, then narrowed his eyes to slits. ¡°You haven¡¯t got violent dealings in Zhai-Khul, have you?¡± ¡°No, we plan to leave as soon as we¡¯re equipped.¡± ¡°And do you have the means to pay?¡± I shook my pouch, copper jingling within. After looking around a little sheepishly, he whispered: ¡°There¡¯s no . . . sanctioned way to buy weapons outside Ith-Korr on the Boiling Sea ¡ª violent trade is controlled by the Wardship in the Hanging City, but ¡ª¡± his eyes widened and he straightened up, as I saw out of the corner of my eye one of the broad coral-folk guards stamping through the street. Sed raised his voice, ¡°Just bread for you, h¡¯m? I can¡¯t interest you in some fine pearlery?¡± I rolled my eyes and waited a few moments for the guard to disappear into the growing crowds. ¡°You were about to offer me some weaponry?¡± His back hunched over again as he leant forwards, and a mischievous glint took his eye. ¡°Right this way.¡± C24 : Raik the Salt-Crusted ¡°Sorl, watch the shop,¡± the merchant barked at another the next stall over, who gave him a wave and a grunt. He led us back through a purple curtain to a small room, then rolled over a thick fur rug to loose several tightly-wrapped bundles of different lengths. He squatted down, untied the string and revealed them all, and held them up for me to inspect one-by-one, before lying them carefully on the fur. ¡°Each would be twenty copper ¡ª for the danger, you see.¡± I still had no real grasp on Barbican money, so just nodded. When they were all unwrapped and laid out, I thought to touch the Analysis Card in my pouch.
Weapon : Bronze Sword
Rarity : Common
Description : Short bronze blade with a strong midrib and oak hilt
Damage : Stabs or cuts
Weapon : Bronze Spear of Blinding
Rarity : Common, Enchanted
Description : Sturdy polearm of wood with a large, long bronze spearhead
Damage : Stabs or cuts, chance of blinding
Weapon : Iron Mace
Rarity : Common
Description : Heavy diamond-shaped iron atop an oak shaft
Damage : Bludgeons
My eyes went wide reading the description for the enchanted Bronze Spear. What a find! Why is he selling this at the same price? Hold on. . . . SYS, can people not tell when weapons are enchanted? // SYS : On the whole, no. There are at any one time on Barbican, excluding offworlders, a small handful of people who understand anything about enchantment, and even they would be hard-pressed to find one out without study or practise with it. // I assume people can fumble around and pick up [Crafting] or [Mysticism] to help with that sort of thing? // SYS : Talbot. . . . The New Worlds are not games, nor some cynical literary device designed to hedge bets and introduce other places willy-nillily when one becomes stale. // Willy-nillily, huh. . . . Well of course it¡¯s not that; we¡¯re in a living, breathing, coherent narrative. There aren¡¯t any literary devices here, just good old-fashioned storytelling. // SYS : Well of course. Quite. // Quite. // SYS : Anyway, if you want spoilers you¡¯re going to have to be a lot nicer to me. // My mind swam with further potential abuses of the Analysis Card, but I packaged them away for another time. ¡°And any of these weapons are twenty copper each?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, you ¡ª oh, I see. Don¡¯t even think about it . . . There¡¯s not enough iron on that thing to sell it for scrap, you wouldn¡¯t get half what you pay for it.¡± I clicked my fingers and feigned annoyance. ¡°In that case I¡¯ll have the spear.¡± ¡°Pleasure.¡± I had no idea just how much of a bargain I¡¯d just received, but it was the first enchantment I¡¯d seen, and it was on a spear, which by that point I was starting to consider myself well-trained with. As soon as he handed it over and my fingers clasped tightly around the pole, I felt his tension climb. A half-glance towards the door and a bead of sweat told me to get going.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°That will be us. Thank you, friend, I will forget all about your stash, and be out of the town within the hour.¡± He breathed a sigh of relief, wrapped up the remaining weapons, and rolled the fur rug over them again. He stood at the threshold for a moment, moving the purple curtain an inch and peering through, before deciding that the way was clear, and ushering us out. ¡°Thank you, and you are always welcome!¡± As we were making our way down the thoroughfare towards the glistening dark sea, I heard Sea-Shell Sed the merchant laughing and looked over my shoulder to see him packing up his wares for the day and making obscene gestures to Sorl, the seller beside him. If only he knew. The port was a short walk downhill towards the coastline, and after ten minutes of tamping heavily down sandy streets and between tall-looming coral spires, we were greeted with the first proper look at the Boiling Sea. Stretching out from Zhai-Khul to the far horizons north and east, the sea was a deep black-blue. Noise of its churning reached us and even from the shore we could see pockets of steam burst like geysers from the surface and rise in columns in the distance. The water lapped against the last of the deep-set coral buildings, connected by stilts and sea-crusted rope-ladders above the water, and a pier, made of pale salt-battered and heat-warped wood, stretched a hundred yards or so out. Along it were a dozen or so pitch-hulled ships with oars and limp sails ¡ª not so different from what we know of our own Bronze Age. Khalnari sailors were lazily wiling the late morning away, or begrudgingly working on porting wares or supplies to and from their vessels. Asking the nearest coral-folk ¡ª sitting and scraping scrimshaw ¡ª where we could find Raik, he chuckled darkly under his breath and, without so much as a glance upwards, extended his short tortoise-neck towards the end of the pier. Walking along it, I got the first whiff of eggy sulphur for a while. Thought I was rid of that ¡ª will be glad when we get away from this area of the world. Lying sprawled on a low chair, a dark amber bottle in hand, was our man. The rim of his tall, gnarled, weather-beaten shell, warped and scratched and pocked all over, stretched over his brow. Moving up to him, my shadow cast over and I cleared my throat loudly, but there was no response. I gently kicked one of trunk-like clawed feet and he wearily grumbled awake. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s still mornin¡¯, let me sleep. . . .¡± His voice was raspy and . . . pirate-y. ¡°We want passage north.¡± He burped loudly, then after stretching his head out, he squinted up at us both, trying to make sense of us. ¡°Outsiders, eh? You,¡± he jutted a flat, rounded chin out at me underneath the rough, scale-like beak of his upper lip, ¡°strike me as one of those crazy traveller types that have been popping up the las¡¯ few years, from some land far away, I understand? And you,¡± indicating Alator, ¡°you . . . I¡¯m not sure abou¡¯.¡± We gave him our names. Then, with a speed that belied his size and apparent age, he rolled forwards off the chair and to his feet, and corked the bottle he was holding. Then he pushed it into a deep pocket in the large, darkly-waxed sea-coat he wore, and slapped my shoulder, his massive, heavy arm almost toppling me. ¡°So, where to, lads?¡± I blinked. ¡°Just like that?¡± ¡°Oh-ho, le¡¯ old Raik the Salt-Crusted know where it is ye¡¯d like to go, first, then we can discuss means and payment.¡± ¡°The Hanging Garde ¡ª the Hanging City of Ith-Korr.¡± ¡°Ah, I make that journey a few times a season ¡ª never want to make any bets against the sea, o¡¯course; she be a tricky, malicious gal; but I can do tha¡¯ for ye. Ten copper coins to get ye within sigh¡¯ of the city and safely to shore.¡± ¡°Not into it? Or to a harbour?¡± ¡°En¡¯ering Ith-Korr is rarely a simple thing, nor is i¡¯ cheap. . . . Thir¡¯y, and I¡¯ll finagle your passage into the ci¡¯y docks, as well.¡± Pulling open my pouch, I saw I had just enough copper to rub together ¡ª I had exactly two. I glanced at Alator, who performatively tugged on the skirt-like tunic-lower-half, which was all he ever wore, indicating he was broke, and he shrugged. ¡°How¡¯s about a trade?¡± I smiled hopefully. Surprisingly, the old Khalnari¡¯s eyes softened and his stance mellowed out. He clapped his massive hands together, salt and sand bursting off them. ¡°Now that¡¯s more like it! What¡¯¡¯e ye go¡¯ for me, then, traveller?¡± What DO I have for him? Moving to the side of the pier, to a set of decrepit driftwood shelves, I carefully laid out the loot I had in my pouch: the Frostwaith Claw; the Snowdrift Fang; the Frost Venom Gland; the Cinderback Claw; and the Inferno Heartstone. As I slowly produced them all, his eyes widened and his long, thick tongue lolled out of his mouth. Eyes lingering, he turned back to me. ¡°Oh-ho, any one of ¡¯ose will do very nicely.¡± From my recollection, the only one that didn¡¯t have interesting utility was the Snowdrift Fang, but apparently enchantment was a far-off venture, so I didn¡¯t really have much preference. At length, I picked up the long, steel-like fang that the Snowdrift Serpent had plunged deep into my shoulder and palm. As I handed it to him, I felt a ¡ª hopefully psychosomatic ¡ª ache and chill from the wounds. Taking it, he stuffed it into the deep pockets of his coat, and took one large, heavy stride into the ship beside him ¡ª a type of sloop, I guessed. It swayed precariously left and right, but his thick sea-legs kept him upright without a care. Curious, while placing the rest of the loot back, I touched the Analysis Card.
Name : Raik the Salt-Crusted, Level 3
Stats : Str 6, Dex 4, Con 12, Mnd 4
Skills : Survivalism Lvl 2
Inventory : 3 Rum Bottles, Snowdrift Fang, 12 Copper Coins
Weakness : Will do anything for a drink
Home : Zhai-Khul, Barbican
Will do anything for a drink. Damn. Really should get in the habit of checking this beforehand. ¡°Come on, then!¡± Raik waved us in. ¡°Right now?¡± ¡°Huh? If not, then when? . . .¡± he stuck his tongue out to taste the wind. ¡°As good a time as ¡ª Oh, I forgo¡¯ you soft-skinned folk have to eat every day. Better bring along a bit of scran ¡ª we¡¯ll come to shore every nigh¡¯, but I can¡¯t vouch for the hun¡¯ing prospects along the Breathing Sands. Will be a little better when we reach the woods around the Ribs.¡± Now aboard, his pirate-y voice seemed further exaggerated and had a bit of a rhythm to it, to the point that it sounded like everything he said was the start of a shanty. ¡°I can do without,¡± Alator declared. I passed a wistful eye back in the vague direction of the Coral Wraith and its chargrilled kraken, then patted the bread in my pouch and climbed aboard. The dark-hulled boat was maybe eight yards end-to-end, and only two across, like a broad canoe, but the resin-sticky planks felt solid underfoot. There was a heavy greyed sail folded up at one end, torn and mended all over, and two benches with four oars aside for rowing. I¡¯d attended a MegaCorp team-building exercise once on the man-made lake on the outskirts of City One back on Earth, so I knew a little about sailing. Alator stepped into it cautiously, and as his second foot descended the boat lurched with Raik¡¯s movement readying the oars, and his eyes reflexively flashed yellow-gold and gripped the rough rope gunwale. A grin crossed my mouth, but he shot me a shut up look, and I just shook my head and took my place on one of the benches. Raik set the oars to the crutches and leant them over to me. The hot leather over the heavy, rough wood was quite different to the soft rubber and carbon fibre that I¡¯d learnt with, but I tested the weight and moved them quite comfortably. Raik gave me an approving nod, then, leaning out, untied the mooring line, took his place on his bench with the other two oars, and pushed away from the pier. ¡°And we¡¯re off!¡± C25 : Barbican’s Boiling Sea Going felt quick over the Boiling Sea. Even without any Skill use, I could maintain Raik¡¯s strong rhythm, very occasionally reaching for [Vigour] when the waves became choppy. My Strength and Dexterity, for a while at least, made up for my lack of experience, and we moved over the waves neatly and steadily. Soon, we lost sight of the Coral Town of Zhai-Khul. Quickly covered in sweat, I removed my tunic and tied it about my head ¡ª mostly because I¡¯d seen long-distance rowers do that in videos. Sitting in my loincloth, labouring with the oars, I felt like I really belonged. At points, Raik would bark some command, and indicate a direction, and glancing over my shoulder, I¡¯d match his strokes and we¡¯d make quite drastic changes to direction, and after a half-minute each time, an underwater geyser would shock up an eruption, pulsing steam into the air and soaking us in near-scalding water, which then quickly became cold on our skin. We never lost sight of the west coast; horizon-far pale blue sand dunes and bundles of white needlegrass or other hardy plants passed us by and let us know just how far we had come. The suns, one red and one white, moved glaring and cruel up over our heads, and then down again over the ocean ¡ª west to east. At this, I remembered the new Skill I had access to from levelling [Vigour] Level 2 ¡ª [Vigour : Endurance]. Reaching for it took a moment, parsing the difference in the small burnt orange glints of light within the stream of my inner power, but I found it. Compared to the usual burst that I associated with the Skill, the effect was much more subtle, but as I continued to row, I realised the labour became easier ¡ª much easier. We¡¯d switch on intervals. I would row for a few hours, then swap places with Alator and set up with my back against the stern, down a few gulps of warm water from a skin, eat some flatbread, and pick blisters from my fingers. Alator, as I should have guessed, took to rowing like a natural, but every thermal blast up had him start and shake frantic for a moment. Once I felt like I¡¯d rested ¡ª that is, when I felt the mirky waters of my inner power clear and flow steadily ¡ª I¡¯d manoeuvre my way to the mast thwart, where Raik sat, and take over for him. The old coral-folk would then slump down against the stern himself, retreat into his shell a little, take a few sips of the water, then a few swigs of the rum in his coat pocket, then settle into a short nap. Then, once Alator was dripping wet, glowing as if oiled, his long red hair sticking to his neck, and he¡¯d start grunting with the effort, Raik would offer to take his place. I knew he was glad to switch, but he¡¯d light-heartedly refuse every time. As the suns settled into a deep, stark red on the first day, I noticed that Raik made a couple of drunken mistakes ¡ª an oar would slip from his grip, or he¡¯d lose his footing on the boards at our feet and kick my bench. His shoulders had drooped, his eyes darkened, and a steady stream of drool poured from one side of his mouth, dripping down his body. Suddenly, a rumbling underneath vibrated through the hull, rocking through my knuckles. ¡°Woah!¡± Raik shouted. ¡°Grasp the gunwale!¡± The three of us shot our hands to one side of the dinghy as the deep black-blue sea churned beneath the boat, then we were THROWN up as an explosion shocked from below and a searing plume of steam and spray burst from beneath. The ship left the surface of the water for a moment then crashed back down heavily, and the water from the vapour column and the sloshing waves spat at our arms burning hot. We gripped tight so as to not be unceremoniously dumped overside and covered our heads as the vessel slowly righted itself back and forth. Stinging sulphur racked my lungs from the black depths and I reflexively reached for [Vigour] to hype myself up. When it had passed, and the Boiling Sea had returned to its regular amount of peril, Raik belly-laughed and threw up his hands. ¡°Guess that¡¯s it for me, tonight!¡± ¡°By Jove, be more careful!¡± I shouted. He just continued laughing, his breath stinking of booze. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous to sleep out ¡¯ere, and besides, this boat ain¡¯t big enough for us all to sleep in ¡ª we¡¯ll make to shore,¡± he said, and turned us west. Within a few minutes of difficult paddling, during which I pumped another [Vigour] into my veins and out-paced his tipsy rowing, we scraped the boat onto the blue sands and all tumbled out onto the solid-ish ground. ¡°You two did splendidly ¡ª your firs¡¯ day on the waves!¡± Both of us panting, skin slowly cooling from the awful heat in the coastal breeze, Alator and I lay on the gentle slope, the hot water licking our heels. With my wet hair drying by the last light of day, I leant my head back onto the warm Breathing Sands, only to be reminded of its namesake ¡ª that ghastly rasping noise, like a death rattle or someone sleeping fitfully with the worst flu they ever had, started to grate against my brain. Despite the day¡¯s exertion and momentary panic, my muscles and bones still twitched. They felt stiff and, in comparison to the last few days, unused. That, and the horrible breathing sound from beneath, had me itching. I jumped up to my feet, stretched violently the same way I had the night before, leapt up to the height of the nearest dune, and scanned the horizon.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The blue sands ahead shimmered purple in the red of the setting suns, the dimming stars settling onto them like jewels in a crown, and through the dying light I saw another nest of the oversized desert scorpions, called Dune Reavers, perhaps three or four. A lick of energy popped in my mind and I gripped the pole of my new spear, jumped and slid down the other side of the dune, and took off at a sprint towards them. The Analysis Card told me nothing I didn¡¯t know, and the weaknesses were all pretty rote.
Fiend : Dune Reaver, Level 2
Stats : Str 2, Dex 4, Con 5, Mnd 1
Attacks : Pincer, Poison Sting
Loot : Chitin Fragments, Reaver Venom Gland
XP : 12
By the time I¡¯d reached them, swift flying over the sand, the yellow fiends had moved apart, acting solely for self-preservation ¡ª no pack instincts amongst them. [Battle Tactics] lit up my mind and [Weapon Mastery] brought electricity to my fingers as I jabbed the spear and crunched through hard carapace. After a couple had fallen, a third leapt at me within jagged legs and thin, long claws. I batted it aside with the butt of the weapon and plunged the bronze spearhead through its belly as it quivered on its back. A fourth skittered quickly away, shimmered its whole body for a moment, and disappeared beneath the sand. // SYS : You gained 36 XP for defeating three Dune Reavers. You now have 41 and need 115 total for the next Level. // Not wanting to stick around, I pushed the long blade through the three carcasses and heaved them up over my shoulder. Carrying them like a sack on a marching pole, I brought them back to Alator and Raik at the ship, and set about looting three Reaver Venom Glands and three Chitin Fragments.
Item : Reaver Venom Gland
Rarity : Common
Description : Soft translucent orange salivary gland, contains a reservoir of Reaver Venom
Item : Chitin Fragment
Rarity : Common
Description : Orange and coral scorpion exoskeleton
More of the you work it out type items. I assume the venom gland can set poison onto weapons. The chitin is hard and dense but too small for armour unless I had hundreds, can¡¯t think of a good use of that other than chucking it at enemies. . . . ¡°If we built a fire, are these any good to eat?¡± I asked Raik, indicating the scorpions. Wide-eyed, swaying slightly on his feet, a wet smile crept from ear-to-ear. He stomped over to me, stepped on one of the scorpions, then tore off a leg. Fingering around for a second, he brought out a thin line of semi-clear white meat and slurped it down his long, leathery neck raw. ¡°No fire needed!¡± he said. The taste was a little like burnt shrimp, not too offputting, but the texture was slimy and unsettlingly soft, and I only managed a few mouthfuls before I gagged and threw the rest to the side, which Raik gleefully ate. I¡¯ll settle for the seaflour flatbreads. The old coral-folk then climbed into his ship, pulled the sails over himself, tucked his legs and head a few inches into his shell, and found a snoring rest. With the Breathing Sands at my back and the stars overhead, feeling the Experience pour in and my muscles settle on my bones, my last thoughts of the day were of the home I¡¯d known for the last four years of my life after being kicked out by my mum; the low ceiling and musty, electric-heated four walls of the MegaCorp bedroom. The thoughts were short and my memory of those long, screen-dominated nights watching absolute mind-numbing nonsense were fading quickly as Barbican continued to make its relentless, dangerous, exciting impression. The next day passed very much the same way, except an hour or so in, we assisted Raik in fitting the sail to the mast and boom. It was full and stretched with a strong wind for most of the day. Between that and my use of [Vigour : Endurance], the effort of rowing was lifted a great deal. When the suns were setting and Raik¡¯s burping, wrinkled head started to sag, I insisted we make it back to shore before any possible catastrophe. Tipsy, he grinned and shrugged. We ran the ship aground out of the hot, black waters and onto the purple-ish sands again, and I took off onto another cusp, but that evening, I couldn¡¯t see any fiends around. We dug soft beds into the caked shore and lined them as much as we cared with dune-grass. ¡°Tough to sleep without any exertion in combat.¡± ¡°These days are blessings, Talbot, lie yourself down,¡± Alator hissed. I did as I was told, but after unsuccessfully tossing and turning in the sand, I jumped to my feet, bounced on my toes a little, and started jogging. Night in the desert was shockingly cold, but after a while racing between heights and sending the odd blast of [Vigour] into my thighs, I warmed up nicely. Eventually, panting and dreary, I managed to sleep. The next day, the west coast changed. From our vantage on the sulphurous Boiling Sea, the endless rising and falling dunes of the Breathing Sands began to level; silver-blue peaks relenting to low, rolling hills covered in golden soil. Leafless trees like tall bones with twisted branches like skeletal fingers were set at odd intervals, and multiplied until their pale trunks became a sad, but thick and full, forest. A couple of hours after noon on the third day at sea, a tall, looming white shape neared from amongst the dead or dying wood, then another and another. ¡°The . . . Ribs of . . . Hulgar,¡± Raik grunted between tugs, over the lapping waves and hissing steam, following our gazes. One-by-one they came into view, gleaming like great shards of bone, jagged and faintly translucent in the blue-hazed light, stretching skyward from amongst the brittle trees, and quickly, the pale blue sands were out of sight behind us. As the day wore on, we began spotting signs of life: man-sized serpentine lizard fiends with green and grey mottled skin stood on hind legs to watch us pass, or snap at unseen insects, before dropping to four long legs and retreating into the shade of the pale wood. Presently, we heard a SCREAM from the treeline. Blood-curdling, mortal, human (?), female, pained. C26 : Lenya of Aricae?th Alator and I immediately stopped rowing and leapt up, a foot on the gunwale, staring out into the forest. After a few moments, the boat swaying under us, Alator stretched out an arm. ¡°There. Sixty yards.¡± Without a word, I nodded, took my place back on the thwart, and brought high the oars. Together, we wrenched to port, teetering for a moment, then set off. The bustle woke resting Raik, and after a few moments of bleary confusion, he started. ¡°No, no, no, not towards the Ribs!¡± ¡°We heard a voice in there,¡± I grunted with the effort, throwing us over the water. Raik¡¯s face went low and he avoided meeting our eyes. ¡°It doesn¡¯¡¯ matter ¡ª we can¡¯t go ¡¯owards the Ribs, the crabs¡¯ll tear the hull apart and if we attract the attention of those lizards, they¡¯ll rip us limb from limb.¡± We continued rowing unabated. ¡°I¡¯ll protect the ship, Raik,¡± Alator said levelly. ¡°You won¡¯t keep us.¡± Exasperated, Raik lunged for one of the oars. With tensed and focused effort, I threw him back down against the stern. ¡°You don¡¯t know wha¡¯ you¡¯re doing,¡± he spluttered. ¡°You¡¯re damning us! How do you know i¡¯ was even a person? People say the Mire-Hiss can mimic voices!¡± I simply shook my head. ¡°Not worth the chance on my conscience,¡± I muttered. The tarred hull of Raik¡¯s ship scraped up onto the stony shoreline and we leapt overside. Bronze Spear of Blinding in hand, I instantly took off fast into the forest in the direction I¡¯d heard the voice, my legs moving mechanically over the brush and thistle. I heard behind Alator trying (in his inimitable and fairly intimidating way) to calm the panicked coral-folk. Suddenly a heavy vibration came from a shifting mound of sand and a few rugby-ball-sized crabs, pale and pink like new bone, glowing in the light, burst out and snapped their pincers at me. In a giant leap I was over them and away, and two more steps put me past the treeline and into the eerie forest. Spiked greyed branches scratched at my exposed skin as I tore through. The scream echoed out again, directly in front of me: a woman¡¯s. It was weaker than the first, perhaps more pained. Blood pumping in my ears, I ducked a low branch, dense with grey leaves, and emerged into a sunlit clearing. Two of the lizard fiends had cornered a woman against one of the white Ribs. Her back was pressed against the quartz and she held a long wooden staff in front of her. A wizard ¡ª witch! I mean a Mystic! ¡°Get away!¡± she screamed, and wildly waved her staff. One of the lizards fell back a step then snarled, a forked tongue shooting out of its mouth to taste the air, and kept encroaching. Without slowing or stopping, I adjusted my grip on the spear and touched the Analysis Card.
Fiend : Mire-Hiss A, Level 2
Stats : Str 4, Dex 5, Con 4, Mnd 2
Attacks : Tail Whip, Venomous Bite
Loot : Golden Scales, Mire-Hiss Venom Gland
Weakness : Sluggish reflexes
XP : 21
Fiend : Mire-Hiss B, Level 2
Weakness : Distracted by movement Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Name : Lenya of the Hoary Gold, Level 14
Stats : Str 4, Dex 8, Con 6, Mnd 17
Skills : Elementalism Lvl 3 Herbalism Lvl 1 Influence Lvl 2 Mysticism Lvl 4
Special : Balance Power
Inventory : Ritual staff, Golden Talisman
Weakness : Fearful of tight spaces
Home : Fey Plains, Aricae?th
Another World! But first . . . [Battle Tactics] buzzed through my mind and, reacting instantly, I reached into my pouch and threw one of the scorpion Chitin Fragments as hard as I could against the far side of the quartz. Mire-Hiss B instantly stopped what it was doing and its neck started twitching in the direction of the chitin, and it even took a few steps towards the forest on that side. The other spun to face me and hissed, its bright yellow eyes stark against the grey and green of its dry scales. It teetered on its feet a moment, hesitating to act, and that gave me the precious seconds I needed to close the distance, pump [Weapon Mastery] through my thews, and jet the head of my spear through its neck. It crunched in with a cloudy burst of green dust and blood. At that moment, Mire-Hiss B¡¯s mind caught up to the clamour and it dropped to all fours and started a frightening dash towards me. Both of my Skills were fresh in my mind, but my spear was still locked in the other fiend¡¯s neck. As it skittered towards me, I flashed [Vigour], feeling again the marked difference of Level 2, and twisted my body, drawing my leg back, thigh pumping with energy. Before it reached, I threw the dead lizard aside & kicked forwards with my leg. The Mire-Hiss reacted as quickly as it could, stretching its mouth wide to reveal two lines of dirty, cracked teeth, but my sandalled foot met the thing¡¯s chin and it was thrown backwards over itself, landing heavily on the golden dust. I wrenched my spear free and sped over to it, cutting first from afar across its side, then as it howled and lashed out, brought the spear up and stabbed down, through its eye, through skull, into the dirt. Bzz. // SYS : You gained 42 XP for defeating the two Mire-Hisses. You now have 83 and need 115 total for the next Level. // Nudging the spear free with a slush sound, I looked up and took a step towards the woman, still pressed against the quartz Rib. Full fear took her and she scrambled to the side, stumbling over one of the lizard bodies. ¡°Are you ¡ª¡± I started. ¡°Stop! [Command : Halt]!¡± A profound ripple of energy moved in towards her ¡ª I felt my hair stand up on end and my instincts spat bile as my muscles were forced taut still. I recognised the brush of magic as the dust was pulled towards her from the ground, [Command] must be a type of [Mysticism] ¡ª Old Mereth, the Witch of Akhur¡¯shet, had performed the same sort of, I assumed, [Elementalism]. Despite my full cognizance, a stream of panic flashed in my mind through paralysed nerves and I reached for [Vigour] to break free. In a moment the bloated pressure on the air was broken with a light snap and my power was my own again, and I moved another stride towards her. ¡°You don¡¯t need to do ¡ª¡± Desperately moving away, she tripped over a root. Sparkles of gold jewellery all over her body glinted as she dropped hard sideways and backwards onto her hip. As I took another step I realised the grim smile was set in my face and my eyes were wide. I blinked and corrected myself and took a step forwards. ¡°D-don¡¯t come any closer!¡± She arched her back as challenge and put out her hand. A pulse of energy crackled over her palm and a lick of smoke trailed from it. At that, I stopped dead. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean any harm,¡± I gently put down my spear and raised both hands to her, and gently moved a foot back. The tension in the air stilled, but didn¡¯t lessen much. She dragged herself to her feet and with one hand rubbed an untidy auburn plait from her face, revealing almond-shaped bright grey eyes set in a porcelain face. ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡± she yelled. ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°Round about Ith-Korr. I¡¯ll explain everything later. Right now, are you hurt?¡± Near hyperventilating, she felt around with her hand and tested her weight on her booted feet. ¡°N-no, I don¡¯t believe so.¡± Then, without so much as an excuse me, she turned her back on me and started to whisper. I heard the first few words, at least: ¡°Woretio? Woretio, where am I?¡± . . . What on Earth is ¡ª hold on! She¡¯s talking to her own System? // SYS : It appears so, but I haven¡¯t heard of Aricae¡¯?th. // She¡¯s clearly just arrived ¡ª fresh off the boat. Does that mean there¡¯s a World Gate around here? // SYS : No, there isn¡¯t. // Huh . . . Is this another one of your fun ideas? Like the way you brought Alator here? Is there a chance you could bring someone across who doesn¡¯t immediately want me dead? // SYS : This is not my design. You can hold your accusations, Talbot; I¡¯m as lost as you are. Listen to me, all the Systems of the New Worlds share information freely. How she can have a SYS that I am not aware of is . . . a mystery to me. . . . // I¡¯d never heard SYS trail off in confusion before. The little bronze sphere bobbed up and down next to my head, its blue eye trained on her back. Then I saw them, for the second time since coming to Barbican ¡ª but this time it was certain: Lenya had long, curved ears. I couldn¡¯t help but stare. // SYS : Anyway, by the looks of her, Aricae¡¯?th is likely a very relaxed forest World. Barbican must be a bit of a shock to the system. // ¡°What do you MEAN you don¡¯t know?¡± Lenya shrieked. Yikes. As she whispered (and sometimes yelled) to the invisible entity near her right shoulder, the point of her chin moved a smooth arc and her head never rested on her tall neck, always gesticulating with one hand. She was quite possibly¡ª though I¡¯m not sure how much this tells you ¡ª the most beautiful creature I¡¯d ever seen. Above big loose leather boots and rolled woollen socks I could see slim, pale calves before her legs disappeared under a heavy robe that draped to her knees. Just glancing at the curve of Lenya¡¯s body as she moved under the robes flushed my face red and I turned away, but couldn¡¯t help looking back out of the corner of my eye. I planned to look busy as soon as she faced me. At length, she turned back to me and put her hands on her hips, obviously catching me staring at her, probably mouth wide and tongue lolling. ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not moving, Lenya.¡± Her eyes widened, nostrils flared. ¡°How dare you address me by ¡ª WAIT. How do you know my name?¡± She blurted out the last part almost as a single pitched syllable. Oops. C27 : An Elf in Barbican Her staff came out in front and she raised a small hand again. ¡°Are you one of the Albowesti¡¯s minions?¡± ¡°Alba Westie?¡± A Scottish dog? ¡°To think that they would follow me even to hell. . . .¡± I shook my head. ¡°Look, I¡¯ll explain later. For now ¡ª my name¡¯s Talbot, I¡¯m nobody¡¯s minion, and you¡¯re not in hell. Welcome to Barbican.¡± True bewilderment greeted me. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of Barbican, where is that in relation to the Fey Plains?¡± // SYS : I assume that¡¯s a land in Aricae¡¯?th. // ¡°Um ¡ª we¡¯re a bit far from there.¡± Her eyes narrowed in judgement. ¡°Forget I asked. Talking to you is giving me a headache.¡± She huffed and lowered her staff, then in slow, deliberate speech, as if talking to a child, said, ¡°Just escort me to the nearest elven settlement.¡± ELF. SHE¡¯S AN ELF. SHE SAID THE ¡®E¡¯ WORD! I did my best to hide my glee but clearly my childish giddiness showed on my face in a bad way, because she recoiled slightly and crossed her staff and arms across her body, then dramatically turned away. ¡°Are you having impure considerations?¡± Impure considerations? ¡°You look insane ¡ª dark but not drear, if you understand, rough around the edges. Blood on your clothes, carrying that spear like it¡¯s a toy, sandals falling apart ¡ª¡± ¡°Hey, these are new. . . .¡± ¡°We need to find you a bathhouse and an elven sartorialist pronto.¡± Despite myself, my eyes lit up. I¡¯d definitely take the bathhouse! Though I didn¡¯t much enjoy the prospect of sharing a steamy evening with the briny coral-folk. . . . SYS, what are the people of Ith-Korr like? Bzz. But before she could answer ¡ª ¡°You¡¯re having impure considerations again.¡± Okay, maybe that time. . . . ¡°No I¡¯m not, I¡¯m . . . asking SYS where the nearest elven settlement is.¡± ¡°Your sister? . . . No, you . . . You mean . . .¡± For the first time since meeting her, she took a small step towards me, and almost smiled. A real warmth brightened the faint starlight in her grey eyes. Failing to keep her fiery hair from her face was a fine gold band, and a thin tear-shaped black and gold chalcedony trinket hung from it in the centre of her brow, which moved and tinkled whenever she turned her head. She also wore little honey bee pendants on her chest, tied onto both clasps of her tunic, and gold and carnelian earrings dangled from her ears. ¡°You have a Woretion as well? Are you a prince?¡± Then she flipped a plait back and burst out in a tinkle of breeze-bright, carefree laughter. ¡°No, of course you aren¡¯t. But how strange you have your own Woretion.¡± SYS, what¡¯s this woman¡¯s problem? // SYS: It seems you converse with royalty. By the way, there aren¡¯t any elven settlements; elves aren¡¯t native to Barbican. // Oh, she¡¯s going to take that well. I thought I saw one on my first day here? // SYS : You might have seen one of the fennec-folk, they often shave their ears. // . . . I see. Well, I¡¯ve a real one in front of me now! ¡°My Woretion is pointedly reminding me of regal decorum.¡± With an exaggerated movement that looked like it physically pained her, she gave a quick curtsey. ¡°Th-thank you for saving my life¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Well, I ¡ª¡± I started, chest puffed, but she then pointed an accusing finger at me. ¡°I refuse to do anything impure ¡ª¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to ¡ª¡± ¡°Actually, considering it ¡ª be quiet for a moment, Woretio ¡ª it¡¯s quite an honour to have the opportunity to save the life of one such as I, so perhaps ¡ª yes, you should be thanking me.¡± I just blinked at her. She¡¯s even ruder to her SYS than I am to mine. . . . // SYS : Well, I beg to differ. // ¡°Yes,¡± she continued, elevating herself. A gentle whip of wind picked up around me, which sent leaves rustling over the clearing. Took me a moment to realise they were all being pulled into Lenya as she reached for the same type of magic she had used earlier. Despite everything, I gripped my spear and took a couple of steps backwards. ¡°I¡¯m not out to hurt you, Talbot. You owe me answers, at least. How do you know my name? [Command : Truth].¡± There was a rush of ozone and a stink like bleach filled my nose, then shocked pain through my mind like a spark. Instinctively, I reached inside myself for a Skill, but the agony grew sharp and I was shunted out of the stream of my inner power. In that moment, I knew that I had to answer to her satisfaction in order to end the pain. Caught off-guard, I did just that, but managed to twist the truth: ¡°My SYS gave me the ability to see into people¡¯s souls,¡± I grunted through a clenched jaw. As soon as I¡¯d finished the sentence, the pain lifted like a sudden stormcloud. The elf princess¡¯s face went faint for a moment and her eyelids fluttered ¡ª all this magic was taking its toll. ¡°A prodigious boon . . . In the Fey Plains, only a handful of highborns have been visited by a Woretion, they call themselves Systems ¡ª I assume you call yours ¡®Sis¡¯. I am the youngest to ever be graced by one of their kind.¡± ¡°I think everyone who has one calls theirs SYS, for short ¡ª S-Y-S. Also, that hurt. Don¡¯t do that again.¡± She scoffed and put her hands back on her hips. ¡°I shall do it whenever I feel you are going to lie to me,¡± she said, lips pursed. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not going to lie to you,¡± I lied. ¡°So what is Barbican?¡± ¡°Barbican is a New World,¡± I said. She scrunched up her brow. I pushed my hair out of my face, finding myself slick with sweat. ¡°A while ago, on Earth ¡ª where I¡¯m from ¡ª these portals called World Gates started to appear. When you step through, you are contacted by a System of your own, and transported to a New World.¡± She absorbed the information effortlessly; certainly better than any human ever had. I was barely born at the time, but we all learnt about the absolute havoc and mayhem that followed their appearance on Earth. ¡°Incredible! The ability to shift across planes is normally limited to princes and princesses! So this is a new realm, I suppose? Barbican, you said? And what should I know about Barbican? My Woretion ¡ª my SYS, we address them as Woretio ¡ª hasn¡¯t heard of it.¡± She shot a glance to the felled lizard-men at my feet and shuddered, ¡°Surely it¡¯s not all so ugly and savage?¡± ¡°Well. . . .¡± ¡°I suppose it makes sense that a man like you would choose this place. From the dramatic squirm earlier, I gather that there are no elven settlements on Barbican.¡± Perceptive ¡ª could be that¡¯s the 17 Mind working. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. And from what I can gather, there are no World Gates that connect to your World.¡± Her eyes fell in a touch of melancholy and she swallowed, lost in thought a moment. Then she pulled herself upright again, arched her back so she literally looked down on me, and breathed deeply. She spoke in slow, deliberate words. ¡°How do World Gates form?¡± SYS? // SYS : It¡¯s not a System ability, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking. Think of it more as a natural phenomenon. // Well, that¡¯s a non-answer. I shrugged at her. ¡°Of course you don¡¯t know.¡± She patted some of the golden sand off her deep red robes and set her staff in front of her like a walking stick. ¡°Well, in that case, I command ¡ª I humbly request you to bring me to someone at least a mark less . . . cittern-headed.¡± I got enough from the context to know that I should feel insulted, but waved it away. ¡°Me and my companion have hired a ship by way of passage to Ith-Korr, I¡¯ve heard it¡¯s one of the largest cities in Barbican ¡ª you¡¯ll be able to start your search there. The ship is a few minutes¡¯ walk to the shore. Follow me.¡± Keeping eye contact, I reached down to the ground and picked up my Bronze Spear of Blinding. She flinched, but remained at ease, and followed. As we walked, she stumbled and had to catch herself a handful of times; her boots seemed more suited to stepping around a library than trudging through a forest. Back at the ship, Alator was waiting aboard with a thoroughly drunken Raik at his feet. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re setting off tomorrow. Alator, is there any reason we shouldn¡¯t sleep here for the night?¡± Understanding my meaning, with not a care given to the newcomer, he leapt off the ship a good ten yards and landed softly on the earth, then knelt and put an ear to the sand and soil. Behind his closed eyes, I saw a yellow glow and gentle lines of golden smoke drifted out, before he stood again. ¡°There are many fiends prowling the area, but we¡¯ve another day or two of travel and the coastline is now bruised by the Ribs as far up as Ith-Korr, so Raik told me before he drowned his woe. It¡¯s best we set watches.¡± I nodded and dragged the sloop further ashore, scraping its hull along the blue sand onto the golden soil. Lenya cleared her throat. ¡°Excuse me, do you not have the sense to introduce yourself in the presence of a princess? I have never experienced so much boorish behaviour in ¡ª¡± ¡°Impetuous chattering,¡± Alator dismissed her. ¡°You¡¯ve picked up an imperious stray, Talbot, I hope she makes good company for you tonight.¡± Lenya¡¯s face turned bright red and a vein bulged in her forehead. She immediately rose her staff and shot out a hand, but managed to refrain for another few moments. Alator turned fully to face her, his face darkening. Panicked, seeing the next few moments play out in utter devastating tragedy, I jumped between them, took her wrist and lowered her arm. ¡°He¡¯d kill you,¡± I whispered. ¡°Without a second thought, without a moment¡¯s hesitation, he¡¯d kill you.¡± Even over the distance, the sounds of the wind through the forest and the lapping of waves, I knew Alator had overheard my warning. In a rare manifestation of good judgement, he removed himself from the situation and began to walk down the coast, raising a hand. ¡°I¡¯m going on patrol, I¡¯ll be back in ten minutes. Control your woman,¡± he said. I swear I saw a wry smirk out the corner of his mouth. Another fit of rage overcame Lenya and she tore her hand from my grip and tried to push past me. ¡°You¡¯re not helping, Alator!¡± I called after him. C28 : Tranquil Night Lenya dropped hard onto the soil to sulk and ruminate, and undid and repaired her long, thick auburn plaits while we waited in silence. I slapped Raik on the shoulder to stir him just long enough that he groaned to his feet, toppled a few paces, and dropped heavily onto some seaweed and bracken, then retreated his head a few inches into his shell and settled again into drunken slumber. Watching him with her upper lip raised, Lenya said, ¡°What colourful company you keep; a drunken tortoise and a FOUL blond beast.¡± ¡°They¡¯re your company too, for now,¡± I barked, and sat down nearby. I tore a piece of seaflour loaf off and stretched out a hand, but she turned up her nose and scoffed. ¡°Your loss.¡± I greedily ate the last of the rations that I¡¯d bought in Zhai-Khul. A few minutes of silence passed, then a noise rose like grumbling, or the shifting of large boulders, from deep within the trees. She flinched and her bright grey eyes darted around. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡°Not sure,¡± I shrugged. ¡°If it¡¯s anything dangerous, however, you¡¯ll be very glad for this boorish little group.¡± I laid back on the sand. The suns were dipping, the red took on a deeper colour and the white began to fade into the seagirt horizon. The steaming waves burst with geyser-pillars far from the shore and glistened like blood through the dimming light. A quartz Rib, the one that I¡¯d met Lenya beside, towered overhead, its smooth surface shimmering in the light. Lenya seemed to be torn at all times between distaste and worry. At one point a strange mollusc, a little like a razor clam, popped up from the wet sand near her feet and, with a few slapping motions, fell and rose on its foot-point, edging towards her. She shrieked, batted it away with her staff, and moved further towards the trees while I laughed. Picking up the clam, I saw before it retreated into its shell little sharp puckers that were likely just as good at sucking blood as eating whatever detritus it usually feasted on. I turned and tossed it far into the sea, where it rested on the salty water for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to move back towards us, before sinking beneath the surface. When she had calmed, she cleared her throat again. ¡°So, Talbot . . . Why did you choose this place?¡± I chewed my lip, deciding how much to divulge, before realising it really did not matter. ¡°At first it was because I was stuck in a rut on Earth ¡ª my home World ¡ª my girlfriend dumped me, I¡¯d just lost a job that I hated, and probably would have had to get another one that I hated even more. I¡¯d been spinning my wheels for four years, just eking out the days watching awful shows and . . . spiralling. I decided that another life ¡ª any life, even one of very real danger ¡ª couldn¡¯t possibly be worse, so I picked the World Gate that sounded coolest on some forum, and here we are. Phew, that feels good to say! Weird, and a bit pathetic, maybe, but sort of cathartic.¡± I was sure she was going to launch into a disapproving or straight-up insulting tirade, but she simply let the pause linger for a while. Lenya probably didn¡¯t understand half of it, but as I didn¡¯t ask anything myself, she pushed a follow-up: ¡°You said at first, you mean you¡¯ve gained some perspective here and have another reason?¡± ¡°H¡¯m? Oh, yeah, so while I was arriving, SYS approached me in this misty in-between world, introduced Herself, and announced that I was a Warrior of the Gods, and a Guardian of the New Worlds. What that means really was that She¡¯d enlisted me to be some kind of soldier in an inter-planar war against a dark purple fog-monster.¡± She gave a sharp intake of breath. No humour. Looking over to her, I saw her eyes had widened and her mouth was ajar. ¡°Do you know the fog monster?¡± I asked. At length, she nodded painfully, reached for her staff and cradled it close to her. Despite her incredibly off-putting attitude, she looked like she needed a hug, but as I shuffled towards her, she quickly shook her head. ¡°It sounds familiar, yes. . . . So I haven¡¯t escaped it, after all. . . . My m¡ª . . . the sacrifice was for nothing.¡± She raised her head and a single bead welled in her eye. She brushed it away and made an attempt to resume her air of superiority. ¡°We do not speak its name in the common tongue. We only call it the Albowesti.¡± Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Oh, that means World-Eater?¡± I blurted out without thinking. She gasped and dramatically threw her head back, almost toppling over. ¡°By Jove, sorry!¡± ¡°No, no, it¡¯s okay, I . . . So you are tasked with . . . what? Stopping it?¡± ¡°Destroying it, I think is the idea. SYS brought over Alator as well, but that seems to be the end of Her ability ¡ª it¡¯s kinda up to us, now.¡± A glimmer of hope disappeared quickly from her eyes and she became utterly cold once more. ¡°Ridiculous. There¡¯s not a prince or princess who could stand against that evil.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m not a ¡ª¡± ¡°I know. Even more ridiculous.¡± The conversation faded to silence. After a half-hour or so, Alator returned and took a quick sip of water from a skin in the ship. His fists and chest were splattered red and black with blood not his own. ¡°Only unthinking beasts out there,¡± he spat. ¡°We¡¯ll head out at dawn. Between us, we can row the boat even if Raik isn¡¯t up for it,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some exercise before nightfall, then.¡± I took to my feet and brushed off caked golden soil from my blue tunic, suddenly very aware again of just how short it was on my thighs. Then I looked back at the others, ¡°Play nicely, eh?¡± Both Lenya and Alator shot me an eerily similar grimace. I chuckled and set off at a jog at first. Within a few minutes I was racing along the shoreline, tearing into the trees for a short while, jumping broad streams with [Vigour] and keeping [Vigour : Endurance] popping to keep my breathing steady. A few times I stopped to train with my new spear, feeling the slight weight difference compared to my old one ¡ª the pole was slightly thicker and the head was longer. Perhaps it has to be to carry the enchantment, I thought. While I trained, the suns fully set and a chill crept over the Ribs. While moving, I could barely feel it, possibly due to my Constitution and near-constant Skill use, but when I stopped it clawed at my skin and numbed my fingers. Once or twice I totally stilled my body, focused on the cold, and tried to find some middle-ground between my bodily senses and the stream of my inner power. I attempted to force my awareness out into the forest, as Alator did, to find something ¡ª anything ¡ª to fight, but nothing happened. Or, if it had any effect at all, there were no fiends around. At length, still thoroughly buzzing, my shoulders, legs and upper back aching, I made again to the shoreline and started the long walk back north towards the group. As they came into distant view, still utterly in silence, I saw Alator was trying to ¡ª or pretending to ¡ª sleep, and Lenya was set up in a straight-backed seated position, gripping her staff tightly across her lap, staring wistfully out into the sea. When she heard me approach, she quickly brushed a silk-robed arm over her face and brought herself up to her feet. ¡°Is there . . . anything out there?¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t find anything,¡± I mumbled, reaching for the waterskin. ¡°You sound disappointed,¡± she exclaimed, exasperated. I shrugged. Finishing the contents, I decided to delve a little further into the forest by the quite bright starlight to fill it up at a river. With gentle waving white lines of reflection moving over my body and the trees, I inspected the wounds of the past week. The snake bites in my shoulder were tiny off-pink pin pricks, and rolling my arm around in the ball joint didn¡¯t hurt any more. The light burns from the Cinderback Armadrax (what a cool name) still covered my arms and itched something fierce, but didn¡¯t affect any movement. Perhaps my constant use of [Vigour : Endurance] has been helping as well, I thought, as I hadn¡¯t felt them while rowing ¡ª though I wasn¡¯t sure if that was just because the effort and precision took all my concentration. The [Berserk] Special had almost completely healed everything else. I wondered if there was a way I could learn to trigger that at will, preferably while maintaining my sanity. . . . I breathed a sigh of thanks to whatever power for Alator¡¯s complete lack of a grudge at the sudden violence. The very faint scars criss-crossing my skin were pale next to the dark tan that had been forming over the past few days. Couldn¡¯t remember the last time I had a tan. Most days, with the MegaCorp buildings being so tall, we only really experienced sunlight for a couple of hours, and during that time we were either slathered up with sticky, itchy sunscreen or huddled away in some cafeteria eating those god-awful calo-pouches. Absent-mindedly, I then smelt my armpit and WOOF . . . I took a little time to strip down and scrub myself with my hands in the river, rubbing off blackened dead skin, then ¡ª fairly certain I still reeked ¡ª returned and found rest with the others, beside Alator. A few minutes of staring at the stars passed, and I just couldn¡¯t help myself. I crawled ever-so-silently a few feet over to him and sniffed. Smelt faintly like olive oil and ferns. Bastard. . . . At some point in the night, I awoke to the sound of sharp intakes of breath. Rolling over, I found Alator fully awake, squatting beside me, his eyes glinting almost black. ¡°Bloody hell!¡± He put a finger to his lips and whispered through gritted teeth: ¡°She¡¯s been crying for almost an hour.¡± Quietly as I could, I turned to the side to see her usually straight and proud body curled up into a ball, again cradling her staff to her chest, turned away from me. Her breath was wracked with movement and a pained, uncontrollable sadness. There¡¯s no way she¡¯d allow me to comfort her. She¡¯d probably be insulted if I tried, I thought. I turned over again and tried to give Alator a look of sympathy. He clicked his teeth, stood silently, and resumed his watch. C29 : Last Leg After another handful of restless hours, drifting between sleep and the cold earth, the suns lit the sky pink over the treetops to the west and I dragged myself up to my feet. It seemed Lenya had eventually fallen asleep, so I called to her to wake. Alator and Raik, shockingly, were already up and preparing the vessel, shaking the salt-crusted sail and scrubbing the sides of the hull. Without more than a few words, we all clambered into the boat. With only two thwart planks for benches, and with Alator and Raik taking first shift rowing, both Lenya and I made initially for the little resting perch by the stern. ¡°Don¡¯t even think ¡ª¡± she started. ¡°Ugh,¡± I muttered, and instead sat between the benches with my legs curled up to avoid Raik¡¯s heavy trunk-like, leathery feet. An hour or so in, without so much as a word, Lenya grabbed an amber glass bottle from a pile of rags on the boards beside her. Before we could warn her, she had taken a deep, if dainty, sip. IMMEDIATELY she wretched and spat the mouthful out all over the boat. ¡°Easy! That¡¯s my stash!¡± Raik jumped to his feet and ran over, snatching the bottle back from her and burying it into the deep pockets of his coat. He returned to the mast thwart, took up his oars, and grumbled for a good quarter-hour, something about ungrateful and rude and stupid and precious brat. Eyes streaming, she turned to rest her chin on the gunwale, shutting her eyes against the rising heat of the water. Save for Lenya getting in the way at every possible moment, the routine went as normal. In fact, we made better time. With [Vigour : Endurance], I could, at least for a few hours at a time, keep up with the steady rowing of Raik¡¯s sea-sure arms. The periods of rest in-between felt like agony as my Skills and body, both absolutely spent, punished me for their overuse, but we made good progress, and I didn¡¯t let up until the heavens turned pink-red against the east-setting suns. I¡¯ve spent enough bloody time on this water! ¡°Keep . . . pushing yourself and . . . you¡¯ll collapse ¡ª won¡¯¡¯ do us . . . any good, then!¡± Raik laughed drunkenly as the rosy sky faded to grey and the first stars gleamed. I waved a hand and finished a waterskin. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. How much further do we have to go?¡± Raik thought a moment, a sailor¡¯s instinct pressing up against the alcohol, swaying. For some reason or other, he licked a finger and raised it to the pressing wind. ¡°I dare say . . . we¡¯ll reach Ith-Korr . . . a couple of hours . . . after dawn ¡¯omorrow.¡± ¡°We¡¯re . . . that close?¡± Alator grunted through oar-exertion. ¡°Aye . . . seems ¡¯o me,¡± Raik nodded and took another little swig. ¡°If it¡¯s only a couple of hours, let¡¯s press on for the night ¡ª as soon as you feel you need to catch your forty, by Jove, tell us and Alator and I will do the rest.¡± The old coral-folk, salt-water steaming on his massive shell, lightly tilting side-to-side as he rowed, quickly took me up on that offer and nestled into his makeshift cot between the thwarts. Alator moved to take his place and I sat on the centre thwart. Lenya covered her a heavily suppressed yawn with her fingers and didn¡¯t meet my eye. The stars glimmered and the quartz Ribs were lit shimmering by their light, guiding us along coast. This leg of the journey was excruciating, and I had to stop a few times and shake off my arms and knees to cope with the pain. [Vigour : Endurance] continued to be invaluable, but after a dozen or so uses throughout the day, the effect was only slight and wore off quickly. It didn¡¯t help that Raik¡¯s snores were raspy and irritating, and Lenya at my feet had curled up into a preternaturally peaceful little ball; her fiery hair the only thing that was visible over the mound of robes and linen blankets. Ahead of us, the grey trees of the dead or dying forest grew denser, gnarled limbs became less twisted and gradually the unlife was replaced by a deep verdance something like a jungle. Massive leaves dotted the treeline, lit only by the faint starlight, their slick bark flashing with moisture and dotted with patches of bioluminescent moss; the whole gloom of the place was soon suffused by a sapphire-emerald glow. But the change of scenery wasn¡¯t enough. Eventually the pain was too great. My arms were sodden with cold water and every muscle in my body had that profound, weighty, near complete uselessness. I slowed my rowing and my shoulders slumped in complaint. In a sudden fit of panting as my effort left me, I gasped: Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°Alator, I ¡ª¡± I started, but at that moment he pulled my shoulder to turn. He did look quite spent ¡ª his face was sallow in his own pain, but I hadn¡¯t noticed many of his yellow eye-flashes throughout the day, so I guessed he still had a massive amount of Skill use left in the tank. But he didn¡¯t just tap me to show his exhaustion; both of us stopped rowing and the ship bobbed to a scraping glide against the water and Alator extended his hand over the Boiling Sea. At first it was only a shadow in the distance ¡ª a dark blur on the horizon ¡ª but as my eyes focused and adjusted, I began to spot tiny lights within it and an enormous flickering shape loomed. In the starlight, I could see thousands of lines of sparkling vines, lit by the same green-blue glow as the jungle surrounding it, extending down from an enormous shelf canopy of a dozen absolutely colossal trees. I kicked Raik awake. He spluttered and groaned, so I kicked a couple more times, harder. His leathery skin felt like I was kicking a car tyre. Eventually he reached a massive cracked, clawed hand over the gunwale and pulled himself up straight-backed. ¡°The Hanging ¡ª¡± he coughed and spluttered for a moment, his voice a dull grindstone, and tried again: ¡°The Hanging City of Ith-Korr. Not my favourite place in Barbican, but my word it¡¯s a sight to behold.¡± A new burst of energy in our arms and cores carried us to the shoreline where Raik indicated, and as soon as we slid onto the land I spilled out of the ship like a liquid, falling sprawled on the forgiving sandy soil. Even at the coast, the ground was soft and uneven beneath a thick carpet of fallen leaves, which were caught up in the soft lapping of waves from the Boiling Sea and choked the tide. I dug my fingers deep into the soil to feel the cool earth. Every vein in my body bulged strain and my nerves shot warnings across my mind with every heartbeat. Raik stood on the ship, lazily readying a cot on the bottom boards, as he clearly did often when he was using the ship without passengers. When done, he stood up straight and leant a foot on the stern, leaning down to us. ¡°The gates of Ith-Korr ain¡¯t far from here, ye¡¯ll find a road a little ways north that¡¯ll take ye there and they¡¯re manned at all hours. She¡¯ll likely never leave your sight, ¡¯ose red trees are so damned tall, but if ye do lose her, just re¡¯urn to the coast and follow it up. You¡¯ll reach the City in no time.¡± ¡°Thank you, Raik.¡± ¡°Yes, Captain, my condolences for not being able to properly thank you,¡± Lenya said, her chin up. ¡°But never let it be said that those of the Hoary Gold are not munificent; before I make my glorious return to my World, I shall ensure you are handsomely recompensed. At least we can buy you a new coat.¡± ¡°This is my ¡ª¡± ¡°All right! Onwards!¡± Lenya declared, and took a step towards the tangled mess of thick wet bark and shifting vines, then stopped, bit her lip, and turned back to us. ¡°Perhaps you two better go first.¡± ¡°Yes, perhaps we better,¡± Alator spat and pushed past her, almost knocking her to the ground. As soon as he stepped through the first layer of ferns and ivy it seemed he was instantly swallowed by the jungle. Groaning, I pulled myself to my feet, centred myself and peered into the stream of my inner power. The water was near-still and murky like clay around my feet. The Skills still glinted there, some stronger than others ¡ª the two-part burnt orange [Vigour] lights were nearly entirely dulled, though the crimson red [Battle Tactics] and steel blue [Weapon Mastery] still sparkled. ¡°Goodbye, Raik, and give my thanks to Madam Kal of the Coral Wraith for the recommendation.¡± The old coral-folk sailor nodded, then shrank back underneath the gunwale, his shell just visible over the stern. I stretched out high as I could, weaving my fingers and popping every joint, twisted sharply to both sides, then gave myself a hard slap in the face and set off. Lenya watched me with her eternal half-bemused, half-confused cringe, then set off after me. Past the first tree, the humidity hit me like a wall ¡ª stifling and steam-hot. My sandals sank into the dark, soft ground, muffled by the dense air. The not wholly unpleasant smell of damp and rotting leaves wrinkled my nose. Even the starlight was suffocated; the canopy high above let through small patches of indigo sky and what little light it allowed turned the place a near-pitch grey-blue and grainy like a reel of old cinema on its thousandth replay. Stumbling after Alator, we caught up to him as he tore vines and thick bushes apart with his bare hands. We were both quickly glistening wet with sweat and exertion. Lenya remained utterly pristine, daintily stepping over the leaves, barely disturbing them, as she worriedly glanced about, using her staff to keep the sticky flora away. Starting to feel like a grumpy Dwarf in her presence. . . . After just a quarter-hour, thoroughly convinced we hadn¡¯t endured the tiniest fraction of hardship that the jungles of Ith-Korr had to offer, we came upon the road Raik spoke about: a track of dirt at least ten yards broad, wagon-wheel-rutted and mostly clear of debris ¡ª clearly well-travelled. I doubled over on the hard ground, hands-on-knees, and gasped the relatively cleaner air. Alator came to my side and tapped me on the shoulder. ¡°Not far now, I¡¯m sure,¡± he said, and that yellow glow came on his eyes for a moment. I believed him, and it felt like a weight was lifted from me. I straightened out, breath steady, a little more life in my body ¡ª despite the difficult trudge, it had seemed to give me a bit of an edge back ¡ª and I nodded. We set off tamping down the trade road side-by-side, with Lenya following after as I suppose a noble might do while being escorted. Every now and then we heard a cry or distant groan from within the jungle and heard the elf-princess shriek and start behind us, or come up close behind, but nothing came of it. At intervals, golden smoke rose from Alator¡¯s eyes as he twitched his head around, then turned to me and signalled safety through the night. Ahead of us was a sharp bend, tall, a twisted crop of trees on one side upon a steep embankment, and a sheer cliff of red stone to the right, funnelling the path through. Still a few hundred yards away, Alator held up a hand for us to stop. He ducked and moved into the utter pitch-darkness of the trees, and we followed the same way. He let a moment to pass in silence, eyes closed, then they shot open and his bright blue eyes, their own light within them, met mine. ¡°Bandits in waiting,¡± he whispered. C30 : Bandits in Barbican My pulse quickened as the words settled in: bandits. I strained my ears and stretched a neck around the corner, but the thick underbrush gave away no secrets. Lenya crouched beside me, the knees of her lush silk-velvet robe sinking into the mud. She tilted her head slightly as if listening to some far-off sound only she could hear. By the starlight, I¡¯m certain I saw a half-inch of smile curl across her full lips, though if it did, it didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°Waiting on the far ridge to the left, I heard at least four.¡± I swallowed. My fingers tightened around my spear and a little of that ugly violence sparked into the muscles in my shoulders. I tried to force myself to see reason, glancing between reticent Alator and the unreadable Lenya. ¡°How do you know they are bandits? Could just be camping out here before they ¡ª¡± ¡°I felt the bloodlust on them, and their greed,¡± he said simply. My eyes fell from his and I stared at the ground. ¡°Well, we have to avoid them, then. We¡¯re in no state to ¡ª¡± ¡°No chance. They heard us, too.¡± I pulled up some leaves from the ground, trying to think of another way. ¡°They¡¯re expecting night-merchants and traders; poor, defenceless souls,¡± Lenya murmured, her tongue dancing deliberately slowly over the syllables. There was some music in her tone I hadn¡¯t heard before. Turning away from her, heartbeat continuing to quicken, I poked a hand into my pouch and found the Analysis Card, just in case. In the direction Alator had pointed, three boxes popped up for a fraction of a second, then one disappeared ¡ª clearly leaving my eyeline. Before it had disappeared, however, I¡¯d pulsed a frantic [Battle Tactics] into my blood, and even though I¡¯d only seen a flash of their Stats, with closed eyes I could recall them perfectly as plans and opportunities swarmed my mind¡¯s eye.
Name : Ba¡¯ram, Bandit Underling, Level 4
Stats : Str 4, Dex 9, Con 4, Mnd 4
Skills : Shadowcraft Lvl 1
Special : Brother Bond
Inventory : 2 Bronze Daggers, Signal Mirror, Desert Amulet, 6 Copper Coins
Weakness : Fearful of heights
Home : Breathing Sands, Barbican
Name : Ja¡¯ram, Bandit Underling, Level 5
Stats : Str 5, Dex 8, Con 5, Mnd 4
Skills : Shadowcraft Lvl 1 Weapon Mastery Lvl 1
Special : Brother Bond
Inventory : Bronze Sword, Bone Javelin, Signal Mirror, Desert Amulet, 11 Copper Coins
Weakness : Fearful for his brother
Home : Breathing Sands, Barbican
Name : The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Keth, Bandit Enforcer, Level 6
Stats : Str 4, Dex 12, Con 8, Mnd 5
Skills : Shadowcraft Lvl 1 Survivalism Lvl 1 Vigour Lvl 1
Special : Tree Cimb
Inventory : Vine Whip, Blowpipe, 3 Poison Darts, Vine Rope, 20 Copper Coins
Weakness : Reckless in pursuit
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
¡°Here¡¯s the plan,¡± I said levelly, eyes still closed. ¡°There are three that I could see, a fourth might make themselves known. I guess two of them are desert-folk and another is jungle-folk. The two desert-folk look to be brothers. Lenya, do you have magic you can send to their position, to light it up and give them a fright?¡± ¡°I do,¡± her eyes took on a sparkling that matched the music playing on her lips. But it no longer worried me ¡ª perhaps because of the Skill, I only saw in her excitement and eagerness. ¡°After she does that, at least one, maybe two of them, will leap down the embankment. I¡¯ll take out the one left up there. After that, the other desert-folk will probably freak out, giving us, Alator and I, a chance to get close. If we can overpower him, I¡¯m going to head into the trees and goad the jungle-folk to follow. I¡¯ll . . . try to capture him, if . . .¡± I faded away. A sudden knot in my stomach furled up as I realised I was calmly talking about killing three people. . . . No time to dwell on that, I thought as I felt Alator hype up beside me. ¡°Sounds good to me,¡± Alator growled. Trust became his eyes, and despite the awful situation I felt my chest rising chest showing a quick, short-lived pride. I nodded to them both, then crept forwards to the edge of the trees, just around the bend, still hidden by ferns and the darkness. It was perhaps a little while after midnight at this point ¡ª sunsrise was still hours away. Lenya took to my side wordlessly. I put a hand on her shoulder and she didn¡¯t flinch. I felt taut and ready muscles over the thin, delicate bones. I reached out a hand to where the Analysis Card had thrown up the boxes and she followed my gaze. ¡°The third tall tree along. Light it up.¡± She put her hand to her heart and a subtle, warm glow emanated from it, lighting her chest and neck. I felt the quiet pull of energy towards her and a few of the sodden leaves at her feet turned over and stuck to her boots. Her lips moved with an inaudible incantation, then after perhaps half a minute she pointed out her reddening hand. ¡°[Flicker : Spark],¡± she whispered. The effect was instant. There was a rush of steam as heavy air was displaced in a line between us and the target, then the base of the dark crackled and lit up like a Christmas tree, red and pink sparks erupted from the roots and three figures were illuminated below. Three manic shrieks reached our ears. ¡°Now!¡± I yelled. We ran forwards as two of the figures, one tall and one almost child-sized, leapt and began sliding and tumbling down the embankment, while one turned to the sparks and backed up away from the tree, but refused to drop down. [Weapon Mastery] was pulled easily from the stream of my inner power, I gripped the haft of my spear and rose it to my shoulder, then with a painful, stunted burst of [Vigour], wrenched it forwards and let it fly with every ounce of my improved Strength. It screamed pitilessly through the air as a streak of bronze and found its mark nearly fifty yards away: caught the lone figure still silhouetted by the sparks hard and deep in the middle of his back. Ba¡¯ram dropped with a cry and a burst of blood. Beneath them, Ja¡¯ram shouted panicked back up to his brother in a language I didn¡¯t understand. The moment¡¯s confusion gave Alator more than enough time. He roared as his eyes lit up golden and bright, giving a momentary glow like daylight to the wheel-rutted trade route, and in two arrow-straight leaps met the bandits. As he landed, in one cruel movement, he sent a fist into Ja¡¯ram¡¯s jaw and knocked him skidding down to the floor, out cold. Then I was on them both. I threw another one of the Chitin Fragments at the jungle-folk. It hit him hard enough that he turned to me, a barbed whip unfurling in his hand. Then I turned heel and leapt into the trees. He barked madness, forgot the rest of the scene, and made after me as fast as his little legs could sprint. After making it under the canopy I leapt up to a high branch and pulled myself up. It took a short while, my muscles aching and complaining, but managed to raise up my legs a moment before Keth came shouting and stamping after me, crashing through the thick vines. He stopped for a moment for his eyes to adjust, then his ears twitched and with a fitful shriek glanced up to see me perched. That moment I dropped down hard behind him and got him in a headlock. Curly, soft fur brushed against my chin and arms as I lifted him off the floor, and I felt a tail pressing into my hip and slapping against my back. Instantly, the whip was forgotten on the floor and he reached up with fingernails like talons and started scratching and scraping at my forearms, leaving broken skin and red-beading lines. ¡°Bastard little monkey-hobbit!¡± my voice grunted out almost unbidden as I tightened the grip around his neck. After what felt like a very long struggle, his fingers slowed their frantic effort, then stopped, and he went limp in my arms. I carried him back out of the jungle to the others. Alator had collected Ba¡¯ram¡¯s body, stiffening and growing cold, and left it at the bottom of the embankment. Dropping the jungle-folk onto the dirt I went through his pack and withdrew the rope, made of scratchy, tight-woven vines. Alator tossed me the Bronze Spear of Blinding and I cut the rope in half, then passed one half to Alator. We tied up Keth and Ja¡¯ram and sat heavily on the ground, panting. Lenya came quickly over to us, her eyes taken by absolutely indiscernible movement. ¡°That was incredible,¡± she breathed, caught between impressed warmth and harsh judgement. ¡°So brutal, so efficient. So cruel.¡± I ignored her, but she kept on: ¡°The way you picked out their vulnerabilities and set about in horrible savagery to use them against them! Is that due to the ability to see into people¡¯s souls that your Woretion gave you?¡± Forgot I¡¯d said that to her. ¡°You see into people¡¯s souls?¡± Alator asked. ¡°Yes, something that¡¯s been happening recently,¡± I mumbled noncommittally. I still had a heavy pulse in my heart when I thought about divulging everything, even to Alator. Couldn¡¯t quite explain why, but I kept it vague, ¡°I can get a feel for people¡¯s abilities and weaknesses.¡± ¡°What do you see in my soul?¡± ¡°Almost nothing, it is hidden to me.¡± Alator seemed pleased enough with that, then without a moment¡¯s pause, he breathed out and smiled: ¡°That¡¯s incredible ¡ª a great gift of foresight and analysis. I suppose that System of yours can do some good. But to be able to use it so effectively ¡ª I understand why you were chosen.¡± I smile aside, looked back into the trees to where they had come from and touched the Analysis Card in my pouch. If they had had another person with them, they were long gone. // SYS : You gained 42 XP for defeating Ba¡¯ram. You now have 125 and need 115 total for the next Level. // I¡¯m in no mood, SYS. Bzz. Sick in the stomach, bile stinging the back of my throat, I couldn¡¯t help but think: By Jove, that¡¯s a lot of Experience for such an easy kill. C31 : Bounty Hunting After a minute or so, the desert-folk Ja¡¯ram woke up with a start. He strained his blue arms ¡ª the same blue hue as the Breathing Sands, though darker ¡ª against the rope, twisting and yelling in his mother-tongue. ¡°We can¡¯t understand you,¡± Alator said, stepping up to stand over him. Ja¡¯ram, his face torn between worry and hate, squinted up at him. ¡°Listen here, clear-skin, if you¡¯ve touched a hair on my brrot¡¯er¡¯s head I¡¯ll ¡ª¡± Alator moved aside so he could see the still, bloodied body at the base of the earth-wall, and the desert-folk¡¯s eyes fell. ¡°Oh, Ba¡¯ram, I tried to tell you that you weren¡¯t ready . . . That¡¯s the third Prowlerr we¡¯ve lost this year. . . . After what happened with the Crown. . . .¡± A part of me was definitely relieved he didn¡¯t take the news worse, though I know I didn¡¯t deserve the comfort. That moment, Keth came to as well, first his long furry tail sprang about and reached for some of the knots, but he quickly gave up and made the same effort against the ropes as Ja¡¯ram had done. The grey-green mottled fur over his little body (no taller than four feet) shifted and rippled as he squirmed, but to no avail. His hairless face was similar to a capuchin¡¯s ¡ª a ridged, heavy brow sat over two large round black eyes, his nose was flat and wide, thin lips were curled up in a snarl, bearing small, sharp teeth. Before he spoke, his massive eyes shot in all directions and his face moved about with quick twitches, before settling on me. ¡°You . . . fool,¡± he rasped, his voice high and sharp, accented something akin to ¡ª in my mind, at least ¡ª Caribbean or Pacific Islanders. He met my eyes and shrank back a little, and tried a different tact: ¡°Killing one of us wasn¡¯t enough, eh? Tied us up so you can eat us, eh? You like jungle flesh?¡± Blinking at him and recoiling slightly at the image, I crouched next to him. ¡°We¡¯re not going to eat you, you weirdo. You¡¯re the leader, right? Anyway, as for what happened in the fight, would you have done any different to us?¡± He spat and turned his head. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve done, messing with de Shadow Prowlers.¡± ¡°I assume that is the name of your vile operation?¡± Lenya snapped, not even looking down at him. She had been silent and brooding since the end of the battle. The adrenaline had bled from her like a dam breaking, and every now and then she inspected the wound on the dead desert-folk and glanced between Alator and myself with a mixture of trepidation and disgust. Keth pursed his lips, then stuck out his little pink tongue. He wore patchwork leather armour, adorned all over with jaguar teeth and talismans crafted from bone and jungle vines. ¡°I bet there is a reward for their capture,¡± she said to me in a quiet voice. ¡°Raik said it¡¯s difficult gaining entry to Ith-Korr. . . .¡± I was impressed. ¡°Here¡¯s our ticket in,¡± Alator shrugged simply. I cleared my throat and nodded. The jungle-folk¡¯s eyes finally settled on anger and he started spouting curses in a few different languages. Alator grabbed the rope tied around their chest and lifted them one-by-one to their feet. The rope was tied tight down to just above their knees so they couldn¡¯t run, but swayed slightly on their feet. Then he threw the corpse over his shoulder. ¡°Walk,¡± he ordered, pushing them forwards. Without another word, we followed the road, our pace picking up now the path was clear and solid beneath our feet. After a time, we rounded a corner and came upon the towering, twisted gates of Ith-Korr. Thick green-painted stakes were interwoven with two-inch vines, some dead and hardened grey, some still massive and living and glowing that unnatural green. Overhead, the high city extended, the flickering lights and grey-green glow lit the vines and canopy from east to west, supporting a dozen tiers of thick wooden plank shelves, the lowest around forty yards above our heads. It resembled to me a monolithic ghostly pirate ship, suspended in the air. ¡°Tiki-rah! Halt!¡± came a bark from the gloom above us. ¡°Declare yahselves!¡± Peering up, I saw lit by the dim stars and bioluminescence two little monkey-like faces poking from behind the sharp battlements. ¡°I am ¡ª¡± Lenya started, but I cut across her. We¡¯ve not come this far just to be refused entry because she called one of the guards a dullard or a prick or something. ¡°We are travelling from Zhai-Khul, shipwrecked on the Boiling Sea a mile or so south. Beaten and bruised, while approaching your great city on the road we were beset by bandits who call themselves the Prowling Shadow ¡ª¡± ¡°De Shadow Prowlers,¡± hissed Keth. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°¡ª the Shadow Prowlers. We seek to turn these miscreants over to justice, and gain entry to your fine city for rest and employment.¡± The guards listened and took us in, then whispered to themselves for a moment, and one raised an arm. With a SHUNT of metal and a heavy creaking and grinding, the gates opened slowly inwards. I motioned to my companions to wait a second and shifted from foot to foot. I saw one of the guards disappear from the top of the wall and leap down at least ten yards to land softly on their broad, wide-spread feet. He bore a short spear in his hand, its blade was an ornate bronze version of the vines that held the city aloft, and he stepped forwards and waved us over. ¡°Shadow Prowlers, eh?¡± the guard hopped gleefully about on sprightly, slightly bowed legs, inspecting the prisoners. ¡°Don¡¯t know you, zorak,¡± he said to the desert-folk Ja¡¯ram, then inspected the one Alator carried. ¡°Nor de dead one ¡ª outside help, I guess.¡± Then he turned to the fellow jungle-folk, who kept his head down low, trying to avoid eye-contact. ¡°Aha! But I recognise you, Keth! One of Skelth¡¯s enforcers! Looks like yah luck¡¯s run out, nata!¡± He slapped him across the face and chattered out a laugh, stamping the butt of his spear into the ground. ¡°Wukkah! Haku-nai kuta rasha!¡± Keth hissed out. He spat on the floor at the gate guard¡¯s feet, but with sharp reflexes, the guard leant back at his waist like a dancer and lifted his foot high out of the way, almost to his shoulder, and kept laughing. ¡°Good price for dis one, at least!¡± the guard said to me. ¡°I¡¯ll raise you niraki up to de city, but you owe me a half of de bounty.¡± I felt Alator¡¯s hackles raise and held up a hand to calm him. ¡°That¡¯s very kind, thank you.¡± ¡°De name¡¯s Raka, I¡¯m off shift at dawn and yah¡¯ll find me shortly after that at de sika joint beside de barracks.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find you, and deliver what we owe. Thank you, again, Raka.¡± As we passed through the gates, half a dozen other jungle-folk, and a few other people of a kind I didn¡¯t recognise, watched us from their high perch. Raka led the way, a skip in his step, half-dancing, every few paces glancing behind him and cackling again at the sight of furious Keth. He brought us to a broad wooden platform tied with dozens of vines which disappeared into the hazy darkness above. ¡°Kah¡¯ra!¡± he called. Then the whole platform heaved and shook as heavy gears moved above us and we were lifted from the ground. Lenya gasped and fell into me, held onto my arm as we moved quickly up into the sky. Out in the distance was a far blanket of dark, tangled trees, spotted with low mountains, all suffused with that unsettling glow. Raka winked at me and whistled as we went. After a minute or so, the gears slowed and the vines raised us the last few feet to settle us onto one of the higher tiers of the Hanging City. Two jungle-folk on either side were turning large wheels, grunting with the effort. Lenya straightened up and pushed me away as if she was insulted. I huffed and stepped off the platform, it shifted under my weight as I left it. Lenya let out a light squeak. Got to admit that was fun to witness. ¡°Yah¡¯ll find de Wardship barracks if you keep to dis side,¡± he pointed left, then jabbed a finger into the small of Lenya¡¯s back. ¡°Better keep holding onto him if ya don¡¯t want to fall, de vines can be pretty ill-tempered! Suli-tah! Goodbye! Koru-nai!¡± Raka barked at us, then waved over to the lift workers and was lowered back down, disappearing below. Exhausted, lagging, heavy-footed, and pushing our bounties ahead of us, we made our way in the direction he pointed and quickly found a squat, low but broad and brightly decorated building we guessed was the barracks. The vine-enclosed door was tight in the frame. I rapped on it with my knuckles. ¡°Sha¡¯kri!¡± came a call from inside. I recognised the meaning, and pushed it open. Inside was a dark but wide-open space, low ceilinged so that Alator and I had to bend over slightly within. The walls were decorated with plaques all carved in their language and with tapestries woven with delicate vines all dyed different colours, depicting the jungle below, the sea beyond, and the skies above, so that they formed strange little windows. There were no real windows, and the inside felt a little like I was inside the jungle canopy below; the floorboards were even ever so slightly damp and humid and sagged a little underfoot. A tired-looking old jungle-folk woman with heavy grey eyebrows that hung down over both eyes sat behind a broad dark wooden desk. ¡°Hika¡¯naru?¡± grumbled the old jungle-folk before looking up. Looking between us all, she put both hands on the desk and straightened up. ¡°Hello, outsiders, what have we got here?¡± ¡°Two bandits of the Shadow Prowlers. They attacked us on the road.¡± Her eyes widened, then she whistled and called to the side. A very tall (comparatively ¡ª maybe four foot six) jungle-folk padded lightly out of a back room. His green fur was lush and full, and he wore leather armour over it. A grey-green badge was pinned to his chest. Wordlessly, he came over to us and beckoned the two criminals, and put a hand up to us to wait. The first thing he did was pat them both down and lay the contents of their pouches on the wooden desk, then counted out thirty-seven copper coins from their pockets. ¡°It¡¯s ten for the desert-folk, twenty for Keth the Enforcer,¡± he walked up to me and pawed over the fingernail-sized round copper pieces. ¡°Thank you,¡± I inclined my head. Then he lifted his head to stare into my eyes. He had the same wide, nearly perfectly circular black eyes, but with a dim amber light within them. There were a few deep, long scars on his face. ¡°And for your honour,¡± he said, and passed me the money he¡¯d taken from them. ¡°If they¡¯d nothing in their pockets, you¡¯d have been arrested yourselves ¡ª for gur¡¯ta ¡ª for theft.¡± Again, I felt Alator bristle, but remain silent. Lenya was just looking distastefully around at the peculiar ornamentation of the barracks, barely aware of the conversation. Sixty-seven copper in total! Glad none of us had thought of going through their pockets! That makes sixty-nine in total. Nice. ¡°I¡¯m Wardship Captain Paresh. Thank you for bringing these criminals to justice. Charge of rebellion, gang membership and brigandeering.¡± He pushed the two bandits into a room. Keth cursed and spat the whole way in, then Captain Paresh slammed the door shut behind them and locked it with a heavy key. ¡°What are your names?¡± ¡°Talbot.¡± The grey-furred jungle-folk brought out a heavy tome and flicked it open, then dipped a quill in ink and started scratching. ¡°Of?¡± Paresh asked. ¡°Just Talbot.¡± ¡°Talbot of Just Talbot. And you?¡± ¡°No, I ¡ª¡± Whatever. ¡°Alator of the Solar Wheel, the Combative Flame and Prowling Beast.¡± He actually introduces himself that way. This is why I usually do the talking. ¡°Lenya of the Hoary Gold, Princess of the Fey Plains of Aricae?th.¡± Bloody hell. ¡°Got it,¡± the old jungle-folk said, a wry amusement creeping over her face, then continued scratching for a few moments, marking some initials or symbols next to our names in her register. Then she looked up from the tome and her dark, leathery face cracked into a wide, if a bit tired, smile. ¡°Welcome to Ith-Korr.¡± C32 : Hanging City Ith-Korr Outside, the high wind was cold but fragrant, soothing my exertion-dead muscles. This section of Ith-Korr was a vast planked shelf built around a huge redwood. Little holes had been chiselled out of the bark, all jungle-folk sized, and stalls were set up. This late at night, only a couple still had their dimmed oil lamps flickering and they were both bars. Looks fun, but not what we need right now. Across the way I saw a large painted sign above a salon-style cabin with the same grey-green badge as the Warden Captain was wearing. ¡°That¡¯ll be the cop bar Raka was talking about, we owe him fifteen copper.¡± ¡°Half of sixty-seven is ¡ª¡± ¡°Not the bounty. The bounty was thirty, so half is fifteen,¡± I said. Lenya pursed her lips, probably annoyed that I thought of it and she didn¡¯t, but Alator smiled approvingly. ¡°You¡¯ve earned a good meal and a night¡¯s rest, Talbot,¡± Alator clapped me on the shoulder. ¡°That was incredible earlier, the way you read the situation and knew exactly what they would do, just from a glance.¡± Lenya shuffled her feet, still with that exaggerated expression torn between disapproval and awe. ¡°It was . . . impressive. It was the first time I¡¯ve used my magic in that way. My mo¡ª the Queen and I discuss po¡ª discussed possibilities often, especially in the recent days, but . . .¡± She trailed off. Again, her bright grey eyes, lit by starlight and the glow of the vines, glazed over wet and she turned away. I brought the subject back to food and sleep. ¡°Unlikely we¡¯ll find an inn in this part of town, let¡¯s try the next . . . giant tree.¡± The broad planks, all different sizes but some a full yard in breadth and many more in length, moved slightly under our feet with the wind. And always from every vine and patch of curated moss, like lampposts, came the slow, rhythmic glow of unnatural green like unripe living tomato seeds. Occasionally, the massive vines that descended at least fifty yards from the canopy ¡ª which held the entire city aloft, save for a connection at each tree ¡ª would twitch and curl, pulling and stretching the planks at our feet, raising or dropping us a few inches. The first few times it did, Lenya yelped and leapt for me, and for my shame, each time I turned to her, held out my arms, but she didn¡¯t reach me in time before the moment passed. In my normal state of mind, I would have been much more cognizant of the type of person she was, but with my body how it was it felt like I¡¯d just got off the hardest day of work in my life, and I¡¯d appreciate a hug. Or, as my girlfriend had dumped me months ago, I¡¯d appreciate the opportunity to set up Chatti the AI Chatbot to play me some ASMR. We stumbled ¡ª I stumbled ¡ª around the tree and between two others in a long, winding street that made the planks underfoot feel more like a rope-bridge than anything else, and found a section of the city with more life; a few groups of jungle-folk were either staggering home with a bottle in hand, or else still sitting at the broad round tables outside. Over an awning was an enormous thinly-cast bronze horn, set to point to the roof of the canopy, covered in dents. My eyes were drooping as I pushed between a couple of loudmouth fur-covered drinkers, though it felt like I stepped over them with how short they were, & almost fell through the hinged swinging doors. Inside, a soft amber glow was cast over the low vine-woven ceiling by dim-burning oil lamps and the air was thick with pipe-smoke and the stink of watery mead. The wooden floor was worn smooth and creaked faintly as the dozen or so patrons moved about or shifted their weight on the polished chairs, and my sandals stuck or slipped slightly with every other step. As we walked towards the door, there was a smash and a groan from the corner of the room, between a tall banner and I presumed the door to kitchen. An old man, something like an orangutan, was scrambling on the floor, pushing his lips into the planks and trying to loudly slurp and suck up the ale he¡¯d spilt. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s enough for dumbledor for you, nata,¡± a jungle-folk woman leapt on all fours over one of the tables and wrenched him up from the floor in two hands. In a movement that seemed to have been practised one too many times, her tail grabbed the tablecloth and threw it on the ground to soak up the spill, and with the old man¡¯s arm over her shoulders, she brought him outside for some air. She rushed back into the bar in a huff and took quick, easy steps back over to the table, collected the bigger shards of glass, then brushed the rest to the skirting, hoisted the tablecloth over her shoulder and marched past us. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Welcome, drifters, to the Woven Vine! Kah¡¯sika?¡± I forced a smile, then mumbled, ¡°Need a . . . two or . . . room.¡± ¡°Oof, you look ready to keel over, Mista!¡± Her fur was long, straight, brown and blonde, and she had startling blue-white eyes with thick dark lids, standing out doubly so as the top half of the skin of her face was a shining black, like a brown spider monkey. Her arms were much longer than her legs and stretched all the way down the long bar to pick up a clay mug, which she held behind her, twisting her body at the waist. With her tail, she tapped the copper spigot and waited just long enough to fill the mug to the brim, all without looking, then brought it back round and dropped it on the desk with a light thud and splash of a pale brown, opaque liquid. ¡°Finish that and we¡¯ll talk.¡± I bent far, far down to reach the counter-top to sip the first half-inch of thick foam from the mug, then stood and brought it up. With the crown of my head pressed against the vine-woven ceiling above, I couldn¡¯t exactly throw it back, but I downed the small mug in two gulps. Gasping and smacking my lips, I put the mug back on the table. The crisp taste and slight burn hit me as an afterthought, a buzz settled over my tongue almost sickly-sweet. The barmaid beamed a playful smile, ¡°Will never get used to how you niraki can drink! That much mibege would knock any one of us on our arse!¡± Swallowing a burp, I leant down and perched myself a little awkwardly on one of the stools by the bar, my knees up to my ribs. ¡°The name¡¯s Keza,¡± her voice was soft, warm and welcoming, a kind and very welcome change from the sharp-barking jungle-folk men I¡¯d experienced so far. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re just about at last orders, but I¡¯ll leave a table out for you if you want to wile the time away before dawn?¡± ¡°No, thank you,¡± I rasped, shaking my head. After clearing my throat, I continued, ¡°Would you have a couple of rooms for us?¡± ¡°Looks like there are three of you.¡± ¡°Alator and I are happy to share.¡± ¡°Oh, you wouldn¡¯t be happy sharing a Vyneshi room, I don¡¯t imagine! First time in Ith-Korr?¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°Well, first, congratulations on getting past the wukkahi at the gates!¡± Keza gave a big, knowing smile. ¡°You don¡¯t seem to be tradesmen or merchants, so it¡¯s quite an accomplishment by itself. Anyway, you¡¯ll find the rooms a little small to share, unless you¡¯re taken to sleeping on top of each other.¡± ¡°Three will be fine,¡± Alator said. ¡°Brekis!¡± Keza called up a staircase to our left that circled round to the first floor. A grumble came in return, and a few moments later a dark-furred jungle-folk stamped heavily (as heavily as a monkey can) down the wooden steps. He had a long face that looked always in some state of shock, with a thin nose and wide mouth almost from ear-to-ear, and close-set brown eyes like a macaque, with and a small disc of longer-cut fur on his head like a monk, set in a middle parting. ¡°These niraki want board.¡± I placed a copper piece on the bar for the drink and turned to the old monkey-man. ¡°Three of us, please, just the one night, if that¡¯s okay.¡± ¡°Greetings, drifters. That¡¯s fine ¡ª late arrival and want to see more of the city tomorrow, h¡¯m?¡± His voice was measured and gentle, though we¡¯d clearly just woke him up. ¡°We¡¯ve not many travellers in at the moment, two copper for three for the night.¡± I handed over the money and followed him up the tight spiral staircase to the third storey, where he pressed himself against the wall in the thin hallway and pointed down the way. ¡°End three rooms will do you. If you¡¯ve not stayed here before, know that our food and drink is vastly superior to the . . . sleeping experience, for outsiders at least. Would you like a wake-up call?¡± ¡°Oh, yes, thank you! Just after dawn, please.¡± He yawned as if on command and reluctantly said, ¡°Of course, Mista. For all three of you?¡± He pointedly looked to Lenya, who I only now realised had slumped herself against the wall and was almost entirely asleep already. ¡°She can sleep in a little,¡± I whispered. She moaned wordlessly, and trudged off towards the end of the hallway, her golden trinkets tinkling slightly as she stepped with pride and precision ¡ª despite her near-unconscious state, off to bed. ¡°See you bright and early, then,¡± Brekis the innkeeper nodded his little macaque head and his little circular ruff of hair flopped about. The second floor ceiling was even lower than the ground floor, keeping me slouched at all times. Ducking underneath a door-less arch, the room was set at a sharp right-angle, with the bed tucked away running parallel to the hallway. I stubbed my toe on the foot of it when stepping into the blackness of the room. I reached for [Vigour : Endurance] for a moment, but the effort proved too great and I didn¡¯t manage to find the Skill. I chuckled to myself that my reflexes had already adjusted to my powers in this weird New World, though I suppose I¡¯d been here a full week. A full week! I wonder how that stands up to others who come to this place. I¡¯ve not run into many; just Yorrick and Kikiara the Seeker so far, and Alator and Lenya, I suppose; so clearly there aren¡¯t many who last very long, or else . . . no one chooses Barbican. . . . No one chooses Barbican. . . . A cowardly thought crept lazily into my mind. There¡¯s life here, happy people, but also so much suffering. Could I just leave? Go home? Let the World-Eater gorge itself on this foul and savage world? BUZZ. ¡°AH!¡± I jumped and fell off the bed, my shoulder slid down the six-inch or so gap and grazed against the wall and the wooden cot. QUIETER. // SYS : You were thinking so loudly, I thought you¡¯d be prepared. // With a bit of squirming struggle, I pulled myself back up and onto the thick, dense mattress. What do you want? // SYS : Just wish to add a moment of clarity to your rambling. Barbican is the World in which you can make the quickest progress with the boons that I have granted you. Barbican is the World currently at threat. If you fail, or refuse your task, the World-Eater will simply move on. // Oh. // SYS : Put simply, Earth could be next. // C33 : Shopping Episode II: Revenge of the Haggle I woke up to the sound of knuckle-rapping against the wooden doorway arch, and bleary-eyed spied the shock of dark fur and worn-out old monkey face of Brekis. I yawned my thanks and he slunk off to wake Alator. I stood and stretched fresh before slouching over, intensely embarrassed at myself. To think I¡¯d considered voicing how I was feeling to Alator! I wonder if he¡¯d have tried to rip my depression out of me with his bare hands. Out of the room and down the narrow spiral stairs with the Bronze Spear of Blinding at my side, I found the bar in much the similar way as I¡¯d left it: barring a sliver of dawn-light trickling through the hinged double doors, it was still lit by the same dim oil-lamps and had more-or-less the same amount of patrons, though they were eating breakfast instead of drinking (most of them). Amongst the sea of short, furry jungle-folk, my tall, muscled companion stood out like a spotlight. Alator was already sitting at a table in front of an untouched spread of fresh crusty bread and thin-sliced cured meat. I sat and dived in, and only once I¡¯d swallowed the first bite did Alator join in. ¡°We¡¯ll make first for the salon joint outside the barracks, then see what we make of the city,¡± I breathed through massive mouthfuls. ¡°Still no more guidance from your System?¡± ¡°Unfortunately not, just get stronger, I suppose.¡± Alator tore the crust off a loaf and set it aside, then spooned at least a half-inch of butter on the soft sourdough bread and chowed down. ¡°Better to do that in the wilds,¡± he said after swallowing. ¡°We¡¯ll see. . . . Not eating your crusts?¡± ¡°Why would I eat the burnt bit?¡± Raka was waiting outside the long cabin under the large grey-green badge of the wardens. He wore his leather jerkin but had unclipped his own badge; off-duty. He quickly finished the dregs of his drink and waved us over. ¡°Good to see you! Worried I¡¯d have to use the full force of de Ith-Korr Wardship to track ya down for my half of da bounty!¡± ¡°Of course not, we¡¯re eager to do right by the people of this city,¡± I said, and handed over the fifteen small copper coins. ¡°Pleasure,¡± Raka said, taking them with a bristly-furred, rough-skinned hand, and slipped it into his pouch with a twitching glance around. ¡°All right, if it¡¯s all da same to you swell folk, Mista Talbot, Mista Alator,¡± he nodded to us both in turn. ¡°I¡¯m going to go home to bed, dat was a half-day shift and I¡¯m SPENT!¡± As he started to hobble away on his short, slightly bowed legs, I called after him: ¡°Before you go, we¡¯re after armour, and any place we might be able to put our skills to the test.¡± He looked us up and down, quickly gleaning the meaning through his stagger. ¡°Ah, well for armour ya¡¯ll want de Craftship, dat¡¯s one tier up, ya¡¯ll find a ladder in dat direction,¡± he pointed around the corner. ¡°For somewhere to test yahselves . . . dere are always bounties to be collected; back at de Warden Barracks ya can ask Kima, dat¡¯s de secretary, she keeps a good register. Otherwise, dere¡¯s really no better place for your type of folk dan de Horizon Arena, right up at de top ¡ª bouts run all day, dere¡¯s no barrier to entry, it¡¯s good money if you don¡¯t mind a few bruises, or broken bones, or concussions, or ¡ª¡± ¡°Thank you, Mister Raka,¡± I said, mimicking his politeness. Becoming a bounty hunter is DEFINITELY on the cards, I thought, but I was feeling giddy for another reason. An ARENA, a bloody real-life coliseum! Sure enough we found a swaying rope ladder leading twenty yards up to the next tier, and made the climb. We came up onto a new shelf of the city that was all painted gold. In the swift morning light of the suns and the dew of the great trees it was lit all sparkling and grand. There were two dozen or so large signs, all written in their language with a translation below that I could read, pointing in different directions with walking times to different -ships; Herbship, Thriftship, Tendership, even a Shipship ¡ª I supposed they built boats or maintained the harbour on the Boiling Sea ¡ª but we made for the Craftship to the right. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. We passed through slim alleys and over open courtyards of the same broad planks. The air was warming and growing more humid in the sun and cover of the massive canopy. Every now and then a shock of hot, salty air was blown in from the Sea to the east, but so high up the winds were for the most part cool and welcome. All about us were the softly-glowing green vines, pulled taut and curling at random points with enough strength to shift us about as we walked. Following the multiple signs on the way we came to the Craftship, our senses were instantly assaulted by the loud humming of hammering, sawing and clinking, and the stink of molten metal, cured leather and strange herbs. It was a bustling, vibrant, vast area filled with craftsmen of all shapes and sizes, peddling wares from seeming every corner of Barbican. Of the cities on the Boiling Sea, however, all war paraphernalia ¡ª as I remembered the merchant in Zhai-Khul saying ¡ª was monopolised or sanctioned by Ith-Korr. We passed a stall of gleaming scorpion chitin armour, manned by a wrapped-up, blue-skinned desert-folk, and another piled high with intricately woven padded white-bristled jerkins from somewhere much colder. I passed by to find a large black-and-grey Vyneshi trader, a little like a miniature gorilla, standing proud beside her wares. Burn scars mottled her forearms, revealing blackened skin beneath the fur, and a clicking voice like crackling embers greeted us: ¡°Welcome, natai, niraki! Looking for something that¡¯ll last? You won¡¯t find anything cheap here, not cheaply made nor cheaply bestowed,¡± she smirked, ¡°But quality? Oh, that we¡¯ve got!¡± ¡°How much for a Linothorax? Dyed blue, if you have it.¡± ¡°Of course!¡± she ducked under a low beam into the back, leaving us only for a moment, then came back with two sets of stiff linen armour under her arm. She presented them like they were delicate family heirlooms, held them up and ran her hand over them in turn. I touched the Analysis Card quickly before she started her spiel, but only basic information popped up. Damn, no enchantments on either. ¡°Fine work ¡ª even if I do say so myself, many painstaking interwoven layers glued with birch sap. Sized for the taller niraki that come through here, so will fit you like a glove ¡ª and woad-blue, just like the tundra-folk wear!¡± ¡°Enough of your peddling,¡± Alator said, his face red and fingers twitching. ¡°By Jove, calm down, she¡¯s just proud of her work.¡± Her smile didn¡¯t break for a moment, her eyes still fixed on me; clearly the easier mark. ¡°Proud, I am, of course, but also confident: this¡¯d stop a Stranglethorn rush. You might be thrown five yards and have the wind kicked out of you, but this craftsmanship will endure!¡± ¡°The one on the right looks perfect, how much would it cost me?¡± For the briefest moment, her eyes looked me up and down, wondering if my outward appearance (off-white, torn sleeveless tunic, sandals stained gold and black from soil) belied some great wealth, and settled on a price by intuition: ¡°Thirty.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll find somewhere else, thank you.¡± A strong hand shot out and caught my tunic before I turned. ¡°Just playing a joke on the newcomer drifters, Mista, that¡¯s all ¡ª let¡¯s settle at eighteen.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s,¡± I said. We made our way to the ridged orange trunk of one of the great trees and Alator helped me properly slip on the Linothorax, a somewhat awkward process of tying and stretching out the linen, until I felt it properly secured. I tested my movement in it, made a few quick turns and a spinning leap and threw my spear around. That feels better. ¡°I¡¯m also missing a shield ¡ª haven¡¯t had a chance to buy one since the orchard-folk stole mine, but I think at these prices I can do without for now. Are you sure you don¡¯t need anything?¡± ¡°In my experience, arms and armour only slow you.¡± I believed him ¡ª as far as his experience went. But as far as we mortals go . . . ¡°Raka said the arena was on the highest tier, I think we¡¯ve a couple more to go.¡± Up another ladder, the next tier, sign-posted as the Dwellship (where someone had carved out the ¡®d¡¯ and ¡®w¡¯ and replaced them with a painted ¡®h¡¯), was residential; a chaotic tangle of squat, windowless wooden dwellings haphazardly stacked on top of one another like crude, makeshift towers, reaching the ceiling planks above. The higher of these were connected to others without walkways ¡ª a complex web of thick, knotted vine ropes hung between each. The jungle-folk here ¡ª skittering effortlessly along the ropes between the houses like children in a vast jungle gym ¡ª wore mismatched clothing and had ragged fur, and dangled down by their hands or the crooks of their knees and stared as we passed beneath. I nodded to a few that caught my eye, but mostly they just snorted and scurried away, the ropes creaking. A couple dropped down to us, inspected and sniffed us for a minute, then scampered off with a shuffle of nimble feet and a scowl or a forced scoff. ¡°Seems the wardens have their work cut out for them,¡± I remarked, seeing more than once the glint of bronze from inside the dark houses. Making the short journey to the next ladder, we were entirely exposed, but despite the pressure and tension of the area, I didn¡¯t really feel unsafe. Alator rolled his shoulders and puffed up his chest as we walked, and I made sure to tap the butt of my spear on the creaking platforms underfoot. C34 : Horizon Arena Climbing to the highest tier of Ith-Korr was an adventure in itself; the cold air tore at the broad corded ladder that was the only path up, ropes moving wildly above and below us with every pull. Below, the residential district fell away, we passed another planked tier that was empty save for detritus or the waste of the area below, and kept climbing. At the top we came to a broad courtyard carved entirely from the living vines. The canopy was only twenty or so yards above us, reaching out in every direction and dappling deep shadows, save for what lay ahead: a vast sunspot revealed a bustling crowd, and beyond, tall banners of red, green and gold rose at the edges of the courtyard, marking the entrance to the Horizon Arena itself. A marvel of both nature and craftsmanship, it was a colossal structure, again woven directly from the city¡¯s vines, still alive and pulsing that unnatural green. I could just about see the starts of a massive, bowl-like shape beyond, completely open to the sky. As we climbed out, we spotted an elf girl dressed in fine silk-velvets and covered in golden jewellery. Lenya sat there by the side of the opening to the lower tier, knees and staff pulled tight to her body, looking shaken. When she spotted us, she jumped to her feet and straightened up and put on her usual airs. ¡°Knew you¡¯d come here. Took you long enough.¡± ¡°Did some shopping,¡± I said, indicating my new armour. ¡°How did you know?¡± ¡°How could men like you resist?¡± she shot back. She has a point. My heart raced and my blood pumped as I stepped towards the crowds. As we walked, I leant over to her with a smile. ¡°I suppose this is distasteful to you? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be much help in your search for more . . . learned folk with which to discuss your return home, so I suppose we¡¯ll bid you adieu?¡± Lenya glanced sheepishly around at the swarm of strangers, even made a twitch to reach out for my arm as the crowds moved around her, but she resisted and held herself as pridefully as ever. ¡°Maybe I could . . . I think I will grace you with my presence a little longer. . . . I¡¯m also interested in this arena, so I suppose I¡¯ll accompany you there.¡± Massive poles with long red, green and gold pennants whipped in the high-altitude winds, bearing hundreds of embroidered sigils of ¡ª I assumed ¡ª previous champions of the Arena. Pushing past the crowds of jungle-folk, desert-folk, even a couple of coral-folk, and every other kind of folk, we made for the entrance, where a massive figure stood beneath a tall arch. Posed with legs spread apart like a marble statue, with stature and indeed skin to match, one arm out in front, this stone giant man scowled at us from the darkness. Haven¡¯t seen one of you before. Alator¡¯s fist clenched at his side as the huge man peered down his flat nose at us with disdain. By Jove, be calm for once. ¡°Next bout is in ten minutes, you will wait until then.¡± ¡°We¡¯re here to fight,¡± I said, indicating my spear and armour. He grunted and stepped aside, then barked down the low-ceilinged hall into the darkness: ¡°More meat for the grinder.¡± Well, that¡¯s intriguing . . . if a little less romantic than I¡¯d imagined. We passed him, Lenya curtseying as she went, and ducked through the hall into a little foyer area painted red and gold where a young jungle-folk sat cross-legged in front of a round table, upon which rested a massive tome lined with names and doodles. Beyond climbed a different world. A high open stage of packed earth, fine gold dust and scattered stones was surrounded on all sides by tall rising stands lined with benches, all made of the same luminous living vines. It looked to me like the grandest arena I¡¯d ever seen ¡ª though that was probably because the last arena I¡¯d been in was an amateur production of Peter Pan as a kid. The young woman looked at us with wide, black eyes and a pinched nose and her long, thin tail darted behind her and picked up a quill, already wet black. ¡°Name, Mista?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Talbot, wanting my make my debut.¡± ¡°Mista Tal-butt,¡± she said slowly while writing it out. The script she was using, or perhaps just her handwriting, was completely illegible, so there was no point correcting her. Then she looked back up at me expectantly, and after a beat, sighed. ¡°Do you have a stage name?¡± ¡°Uh, no. Do I need one?¡± ¡°Not particularly.¡± ¡°This place insults the nature of combat; I no longer kill for pleasure,¡± Alator said simply, turned on his heels, added, ¡°I¡¯ll try to find some other travellers like us, try to learn a little more about the World,¡± and walked away. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Why¡¯d you come then?¡± ¡°Just wanted to see it.¡± ¡°All right. . . . See you later. If we¡¯re still apart by sunset, we¡¯ll head back to the Woven Vine.¡± The little jungle-folk turned to the elf princess at my side. ¡°And you, Missus?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll not be degrading myself in gladiatorial nonsense. I am Lenya of the Hoary Gold, Princess of the Fey Plains.¡± ¡°Lenya da what?¡± the jungle-folk¡¯s already happy and mocking face burst open. She paused a moment, then understood the confusion and I felt HEAT coming from her. I cut across desperately: ¡°It¡¯s just me that¡¯ll be fighting. Lenya is my . . . she¡¯s here to witness my debut.¡± She huffed and stamped her heel. The little jungle-folk giggled, her curled brown hair bobbing. ¡°So do ya have any, like . . . moves? Anything recognisable dat ya¡¯ll use more dan once ¡ª something we can hype de crowd up to expect?¡± ¡°Uh . . . I have this thing where I run really fast and jump and try to stab them at the same time.¡± I ran my fingers along the table, had them jump, then thrust the spear (my thumb) forwards as my hand landed. Lenya clapped a hand to her face to stay a cruel giggle. ¡°Just admit that you don¡¯t, in future, Mista ¡ª that was embarrassing.¡± Being talked down to so harshly by a woman who looked like a furry child was infuriating. I knew the anger was not worthwhile, but it still prickled my tone: ¡°I¡¯ll show you what I can do. Just get me in the next bout.¡± At that moment, a clarion call reverberated through the wood at our feet and rocked our ears. A wide grin split the jungle-folk woman¡¯s face. ¡°That¡¯ll be in two minutes, then. Enjoy your grand debut.¡± I was shuffled up some well-worn, curving steps leading to a dark room to the side. Before the door was slammed closed behind me, I glanced back and saw Lenya yelp as hundreds of people rushed down the hallway and through the foyer, swarming her then spilling onto the benches, pushing and shoving for the best seat to watch the carnage. The ready room was low-ceilinged, as everything was in Ith-Korr, and lit only by a string of living green-shining vine like a dim LED strip on the walls. The first thing I noticed were bronze and bone weapons lining stacks, all dull and cracked, and a few blood-stained suits of armour missing discs or scales sat by one wall. Glad I went shopping! I became aware of other people in the room first by their stink: sweat and fear like the gym room in secondary school before playing a no-contact (extremely full contact) rugby game with the older kids who had just gone through puberty and were now essentially walls of hard meat, while you and your buddies were little stick-like things in loose shorts and a hand-me-down vest. Was that image too specific? Well, it¡¯s what came to mind, anyway. They all stood at least at arm¡¯s length of each other, all performing pre-fight rituals or exercises, some tapping their feet, some muttering under their breath. One, a man with massive, furry ears and long, black whiskers, knelt facing the wall, hands clasped before him, in silent prayer. ¡°So . . .¡± I piped up. ¡°What are the rules?¡± ¡°FIRST TIME?¡± I jumped out of my skin for the second time in a day as a booming voice sounded right in my ear. SYS, FOR FU ¡ª Oh, sorry, I¡¯m so used to it being you. I turned to see an absolute barbarian towering over me. She had little white ears sprouting out the sides of a massive spiked iron helmet, small dark eyes set in a broad, white-furred face, and a big flat black nose at the end of a short snout ¡ª she was a massive polar bear woman. ¡°Yes, uh ¡ª first time.¡± Her mouth sneered open, lips peeling back over massive yellowed fangs. ¡°NO FEAR. I LEAVE YOUR BODY MOSTLY WHOLE,¡± her fur vibrated and swayed as she shook in a guttural laugh. That got a rise out of me ¡ª I felt the stream of my inner power ripple ¡ª but before deciding on running my mouth, I touched the Analysis Card in my pocket.
Name : Hrunja the Frost-Born, Level 11
Stats : Str 15, Dex 8, Con 14, Mnd 3
Skills : Survivalism Lvl 2 Vigour Lvl 1 Weapon Mastery Lvl 4
Special : Glacial Fury
Inventory : Battleaxe, 52 Copper Coins
Weakness : Overheats easily
Home : Glareholm, Barbican
Glareholm ¡ª that¡¯s new. ¡°LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU.¡± I met her eyes and rose to my full height, still a good few inches shorter than her, and squared up. ¡°Save it for the stage,¡± I grunted. Turning my back on her, I saw in the gloom a stout, muscular jungle-folk man with wiry, tawny fur. Green eyes sparkled in the dim glow. He wore a thick bronze helmet decorated with jagged teeth and bore the gold and green of the Arena. A coiled whip hung from his right hand. ¡°All right, gather ¡¯round, you lot,¡± he barked. He flicked the whip and it cracked against the floor, bouncing harshly off the walls of the small chamber. ¡°For the newcomers, I¡¯m Kaelri, I¡¯m in charge of you layabouts. From the moment you step into this room, to the moment you hobble out of it, consider me your loving, doting father.¡± The joke fell flat. ¡°Look, veterans, you know what to do. You three,¡± he spat into the darkness. I turned but another sharp crack of the whip made me turn back to him, ¡°You¡¯ve got one shot to make an impression here. Remember, the crowd wants blood and brilliance. If you can¡¯t give one, you better make damn sure to give them the other. Even though it¡¯s the morning bout, make it a show worth shouting for! ¡°When that door opens, take the steps up and gather in the centre of the stage, looking out. The announcer will hype the crowd. When he says your name, do something. I don¡¯t care what. During, we don¡¯t want to see abject cruelty. ¡°Listen, this is a mortal battle ¡ª it¡¯s life and death ¡ª but your glory, your livelihood, and the crowd¡¯s patronage, requires you lot to PERFORM. Take a hit? Stand tall! Winded? Find your grit! The Horizon Arena is your stage, and for the next quarter hour or so, you¡¯re the stars!¡± I reached for the Analysis Card to inspect the rest of the combatants, but another long horn call sounded, unsettling dust from the vine roof, & the door was thrown open. ¡°As discussed,¡± barked a short jungle-folk man wearing thick bronze scale armour and holding a whip at his side, ¡°This morning¡¯s bout is a free-for-all. Make it worth the crowd¡¯s time, make it back alive, in that order.¡± I blew out my cheeks and stepped out towards the light. C35 : Let’s See Some Blood The pressure came on immediately. In a loose line we filed out of the ready room, heavy-stamping, weapons gleaming, and climbed the dozen steep steps up onto the high arena floor. A few of the other combatants wore heavy suits of armour that rustled as they walked, and as they took to the stage they roared battlecries or bashed weapons to shields. Hrunja the massive bear-person behind me beat her chest with a massive hand. The noise of the crowd was ecstatic ¡ª hooting and howling. Over the noise I heard a seemingly sourceless announcing voice booming overhead: ¡°Welcome, one and all, Mistas, Missuses, all gentlefolk, to the Horizon Arena! Prepare for an electrifying morning bout ¡ª make some noise for these heroic gladiators!¡± The crowd erupted in cheers and pumped fists, and the stage rumbled as nearly a thousand feet stomped on the ground in frantic rhythm. The announcer continued, voice echoing off the stands: ¡°Get HYPED for this morning bout ¡ª from the frozen tundras of the north, heart as cold as the glacier that birthed her, we¡¯ve Hrunja the Frost-Born! ¡°Rising from the scorching Breathing Sands, quick as a flash and deadly as a sandstorm, we¡¯ve seen him a half-dozen times the past few months. Always ready to dish out some serious hurt, give it up for the Sand-Striker himself ¡ª Go¡¯leb of the Desert Blitz! ¡°Our very own Pekk of the Agile Staff, moulded by the dark wilds of the jungle! Watch out as he dances between enemies like a shadow in the trees, he¡¯ll be on you before you know it! ¡°And we have not one, not two, but THREE new challengers this morning! First up, Patrick, a newcomer who, when asked about his signature fighting style, asked whether he could bring his ferocious Muckie with him ¡ª sorry, this Arena is only for people. ¡°Second, introducing himself as someone deft as a jungle, with claws just as sharp, it¡¯s Sikari from the sticks! Raised amongst the twisted canopies of Grense in the Korr Jungle, this hunter has promised to not only bring down his opponents ¡ª but do it with style! ¡°And last but not least, gentlefolk, spot his grand spear and steady gaze, a stranger to our land but by the way he carries himself, and those steely blue eyes, he¡¯s clearly no stranger to battle ¡ª Talbot!¡± After each introduction, the crowd went wild, hooting and howling. Then the announcer took an audible, sharp inhale of breath and bellowed out again: ¡°On this glorious day, blow your chest out and stamp your feet ¡ª this . . . is . . . THE HORIZON ARENA!¡± The cheers and roars reached a crescendo, every eye in the place was wild and fixed on us as we made a circle in the centre of the stage, facing out towards them all. ¡°LET¡¯S SEE SOME BLOOD! FIGHT!¡± With that, the crowd almost instantly quieted and movement RUSHED all around me as combatants either turned to each other and instantly dropped massive swings of weapons or leapt away to find ground. Immediately, Hrunja was on me, raising an enormous bronze battleaxe in both hands above her head. Feeling fresh, I dodged to the side with [Vigour] and the weapon crashed down onto the earth, throwing up a cloud of gold dust. ¡°YOU HEARD VOICE. CROWD NEEDS BLOOD!¡± she yelled and closed the distance again. In a fractioned moment I reached deep into the quick-flowing stream of energy within me and grasped desperately at the surface: [Battle Tactics] almost leapt out at me. The pump from my heart to every extremity took me like a nicotine rush and my vision exploded in colour. I felt a fire light in my chest ¡ª my body screamed VIOLENCE. She raised the heavy battleaxe again with a grunt. I felt the sickening, savage grin pass across my lips and my eyes went wild furious as instead of dodging I ran at her, met her massive body with my own. Our Stats not too dissimilar, but her¡¯s definitely winning out, I burst another [Vigour] through the muscles in my legs and charged my shoulder into her chest. Her stance was broken instantly, her arms were thrown back and the weight of her battleaxe in one hand made her stagger. At a lightning glance I noted there were half a dozen other fighters locked in combat with one another. Some part of me knew I shouldn¡¯t exert myself too hard at the outset, but the pressure of the crowd and the massive form of the bear-barbarian facing me down gave me a shock and buzz that I couldn¡¯t shake. Still splayed wide, I saw her eyes glint fury and she bared her teeth ¡ª a cloud of blue-white frost gathered in her maw and spilled out as she heavily breathed out a growl. With a precisely-timed [Weapon Mastery] I stabbed my spear forwards before she righted herself. With a stunning instinct she threw her head down, crashing her helmet into the spearhead. I TORE a thick line across it and my weapon caught one of the spikes. It tore free and spun off the side of the arena. The barbarian barely reacted ¡ª her [Glacial Fury] Special fully kicking in ¡ª just stood fast and spread her legs wide, then rocketed forwards, meaning to meet me with her own charge. Her free paw shot out in front of her, thick, sharp nails glinting. The Skills still rushing through me, I brought my spear back and held it with a tight grip in both hands in front of me and braced for impact. The bear-paw lashed out, grabbed the haft of the spear as her body pushed through and collided with mine. The wind was knocked out of me and I was thrown three yards back. Cold spit followed through the air but with the last gasp of my improved [Vigour] pulsing through me I managed to weather the blow, twist and land on my feet, skidding backwards. I stopped a few inches before the edge of the stage and wobbled to keep my footing. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Both suns beat heavily on my exposed neck, arms and legs and I was already steaming with sweat. The stands didn¡¯t let the winds through, even as high up as the highest tier of Ith-Korr was, and the heat radiating from the manic crowd was stifling. Shooting my eyes back up I saw the polar-bear woman had fallen back a few paces and was rolling her head around, scrunching up her eyes; reeling with the second impact to her already overburdened neck. That frost built up in her mouth again, denser than before, then she bounded, on four limbs at first, then righting herself onto two straining legs, straight towards me. Her massive tongue lolled out of her mouth and she was panting hard ¡ª overheating, just as the Analysis Card had told me. I knew she was near her limit. // SYS : Your use of [Battle Tactics] has upgraded the Skill to Level 2. You can now utilise [Battle Tactics : Metavision]. // In a flash I found the new point of crimson red light glinting in my inner stream and reached for it. [Battle Tactics : Metavision] transformed the flat stage into a geographical heat-map of potential pit-falls and bumps. Activating the second level of the Skill also gave me a little glimpse of the purity of mind that I was used to from the first: I saw two of the fights were getting close to ending, one jungle-folk ¡ª the newcomer Sikari ¡ª was on his back being jabbed at by another with a Quarterstaff ¡ª one of the veterans, Pekk ¡ª and a human-looking guy ¡ª Patrick ¡ª was being chased down by a desert-folk brandishing a heavy Iron Mace above his head ¡ª introduced earlier as Go¡¯leb. Clarity forced through against the stars spinning in my vision. Over the rush of blood, I heard the announcer call: ¡°And it looks like that¡¯s it for Sikari, Mistas and Missuses! May this be the first of many beatings he receives in the Horizon Arena!¡± The improved Skill sapped more energy than I¡¯d expected, but beating my chest and taking a massive breath in, I managed to ready myself. First, I shifted over a few yards to where my new Skill presented an opportunity, then I took a wide stance and extended my spear. As she powered on, I beckoned her to me with my left hand like he did in that American black trenchcoat film. Five yards between us. That INFURIATED her. She roared a true animal-roar and her eyes lost what precious little intelligence they had. A one-track beast, she hurtled across the dirt, swinging her battleaxe in a wide arc. Three yards. Forget saving my resources ¡ª the crowd demands better! One yard. Her heavy furred foot met a mound of dirt and she missed a step, the other coming down hard, momentum carrying her forwards in an awful twist of her body. I ducked frantically, throwing my whole body as low as I could while keeping my sandalled toes gripped hard on the ground, then another [Vigour] sent electricity to every joint and I launched myself to the right. I knew I was past her. I knew Hrunja would throw herself off the stage with her momentum. But there was a fire in me and an ITCH up my spine. My spearhead flashed viciously across me and I cut deep through white fur and thick skin as she tumbled wildly over the edge. She fell a bloody mess on the floor, winded, overheated, thoroughly spent. I put my hands to my knees for a moment and breathed the dust in deeply, then raised my spear to the sky and shouted: ¡°HURRAH!¡± For a moment I wondered if that¡¯d translate at all, then the crowd kicked up a storm of frenzied screaming and howling, stamping their feet. The announced boomed over it all: ¡°Who would have guessed it! What a blindside! Talbot, in his first bout ever in the Horizon Arena, has defeated the favourite to win, Hrunja the Frost-Born! Mistas and Missuses, all gentlefolk, a hand for Talbot! He has given you your blood!¡± ¡°Talbot! Talbot!¡± That . . . was overwhelmingly addictive. MORE. Without wasting another second, I set off sprinting towards the other combatants, reaching into my pouch for the Analysis Card as I did. Of the six others that had taken to the stage, only three now remained. The man bearing only a shield was still running like a maniac from the desert-folk, and as I glanced, the jungle-folk gave the poor prone guy another final whack on the head, knocking him silly, then stepped over him to survey the battlefield and, seeing the state of things, joined the chase.
Name : Gobblebobble the Sand-Striker, Level 9
Stats : Str 10, Dex 11, Con 10, Mnd 5
Skills : Survivalism Lvl 4 Weapon Mastery Lvl 1 Vigour Lvl 1
Special : Desert Blitz
Inventory : 42 Copper Coins
Weakness : Clumsy in humiliation
Home : Breathing Sands, Barbican
Name : Pekk of the Agile Staff, Level 8
Stats : Str 8, Dex 14, Con 8, Mnd 6
Skills : Shadowcraft Lvl 2 Weapon Mastery Lvl 1
Special : Jungle Leap
Inventory : 11 Copper Coins
Weakness : Blind in right eye
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
Name : Patrick, Level 4
Stats : Str 7, Dex 8, Con 11, Mnd 6
Skills : Beast Mastery Lvl 3 Vigour Lvl 1 Weapon Mastery Lvl 1
Special : Animal Empathy
Inventory : Cloak of Camouflage, 16 Copper Coins
Weakness : Panics when disarmed
Home : Ireland, Earth
// SYS : Something has changed. It seems your use of the Analysis Card has attuned you further with the destinies of the New Worlds, and has developed a new ability. You are one step closer to achieving your ambitious capability. // Ah, that mysterious ambitious capability, again . . . Wonder what¡ª No, I can¡¯t think about that now! Pushing down my excitement at seeing another person from Earth for the first time in what felt like forever, I kept running and steeled my nerves. Everything made a bit more sense. Patrick wailed, tears streaming, head on a swivel and eyes fixed on his pursuers, clutching his shield loosely as he ran. Pekk and . . . Gobblebobble were gaining ground. [Battle Tactics] sang through my senses again. My limbs felt heavy and movement was getting rough, but images swam in my mind of utter victory. I had enough left in the tank for what I had planned. C36 : Talbot! Talbot! Talbot! A few more powerful leaps at full speed got me up to the other combatants. ¡°Toss me your shield and I¡¯ll get them off you,¡± I barked an order at Patrick, the terrified ginger-haired Irishman, with no weapon. Though he yelped to suddenly find me so close, he took one look at me and immediately complied. It was a bad throw, but with a leap and a skid, I caught the shield by the rim, popped off another [Weapon Mastery], spun like a discus thrower and launched the shield towards the encroaching jungle-folk. With no depth perception, he couldn¡¯t react until it was too late, and the bronze-banded shield smashed right into his nose and he dropped instantly like a sack, leaving a trail of blood following him to the dirt, his Quarterstaff clattered beside him. ¡°And there goes Pekk of the Agile Staff! Talbot¡¯s on the warpath! But what will he do against the weapon-master, Go¡¯leb the Sand-Striker?¡± Hold on . . . Go¡¯leb? The Analysis Card said his name was Gobblebobble. A cruel grin split my face as the jigsaw clicked into place. The desert-folk stopped his racing and blew his lungs out, steadying himself on the gold dust and stones, feet well-trained from a lifetime on the shifting dunes of the Breathing Sands. He passed his thick-headed Iron Mace from hand to hand. ¡°Hey, you,¡± I said, just loudly enough that the desert-folk might have misheard me. Instantly, he stopped throwing his mace around and stared at me. ¡°Who are you, again?¡± ¡°I am the great Go¡¯leb!¡± he declared. ¡°And you will fall to my [Desert Blitz]!¡± Taking off towards him, I brought my spear across my body with a hard grip, stretched my neck out and raised my voice: ¡°Whatever you say, Gobblebobble!¡± Instantly, his face lit up bright red like a beetroot, tinging blue skin purple, and his eyes started twitching around, as if trying to gauge how many of the crowd had heard his real name. That was all I needed. One more [Vigour] put me at an all-out explosion of speed and I leapt the last six or so yards. I hoped that little giggling monkey from the foyer was watching. With one movement, I shocked my arm forwards, let the spear slide against my palm to full length, and, grabbing the rounded butt of it with my fist, forced it towards him with all my might. Gobblebobble ¡ª Go¡¯leb, sorry ¡ª shrieked and turned, but way too slowly ¡ª the spearhead pierced his shoulder and threw him to the ground, pinned against the dirt. I stood over him a moment, gasping for breath, held the spear firm, and put my foot on the arm gripping the mace. He let it go and whimpered, ¡°Go¡¯leb yields!¡± I had half a mind to lean down on the spear and force him to yield with his true name, but happily the wild cruelty passed before I acted on it. . . . I wrenched the spear free and turned to the last combatant. ¡°You,¡± I shot at Patrick, who was squatting by the side of the steps down to the ready room, hands on his face. ¡°Step down. Concede.¡± ¡°All right, boss!¡± he shouted instantly in his Irish lilt, turned, and walked down the dozen steps and out of sight. A ripple of murmuring, eye-of-the-storm silence passed over the stands, then like a volcanic eruption, a thousand people exploded into full-throated life. Scrambling over one another, pumping their fists and stamping their feet, they roared my name again and again: ¡°Talbot! Talbot! Talbot!¡± The psychic pressure of a thousand people bearing down on me turned into a puffed chest and I felt like I grew a few inches taller. Stepping away from the desert-folk in the dirt, I lifted my spear high and roared again: ¡°HURRAH! HURRAH!¡± I let absolute halcyon victory wash over me. Bathing in cheers and the echoes of my own name, I took a ridiculously boastful lap around the stage. Pekk had groaned to his knees and was watching me, fist closed on his face to still the blood pouring from his nose. Go¡¯leb was hobbling away, gripping the awful wound in his shoulder as a couple of jungle-folk wearing the red and gold of the Arena came to meet him and help him down the steps. In the roiling sea of bodies, I spotted Lenya¡¯s little face poking out, squeezed between a couple of rabid audience members. She was white as a ghost and I saw her shiver and swallow, then raise a thumb to me before she was pushed aside by the hubbub and disappeared. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. A solid few minutes passed before the hype wore from me. I felt myself winded and a stitch cut into my ribs. I let my tired shoulders slouch and winced as my chest throbbed with the impact of the bear-woman, ribs bruised. After a last ¡°HURRAH!¡± and pump of my spear to the sky, I took off with a slight wobble from the golden sand, down the steps and back into the dark of the ready room. Before my eyes had properly adjusted, I felt a cold, leathery hand grip my left in a frantic shake. ¡°Can¡¯t believe dat was yah first time, naka! Ya clearly shouldn¡¯t be bothering with de morning bouts!¡± A wild-eyed little jungle-folk, tail thrashing, practically hopping from foot to foot, continued to shake my hand. I tried to pull my hand away but he had a tight grip and pulled me in closer, hunching me down almost to his height. ¡°Come on, Mista! You¡¯re pretty much unscathed ¡ª ah¡¯ll sponsor ya for dis evening¡¯s dusk bout!¡± Hrunja was sitting slumped in a heap against the wall, still catching her breath and muttering something foul. Pekk and Go¡¯leb were being seen to by the red-and-gold-wearing jungle-folk attendants; they packed something wet and brown against their cuts and tied gauze to them. Patrick was waiting by the far locked door, his hand vibrating on the handle. With a slow heat I realised I had signed up and then engaged in mortal combat with absolutely no information. A niggling hesitation crept up from somewhere in me ¡ª the same way it had the first day or two I had been in Barbican ¡ª that I had been changing. I had just thrown myself into danger against trained killers without a second thought. . . . Then the second thought came to me, and I¡¯m not sure whether I should be more or less concerned: ¡°What are my winnings for this bout?¡± ¡°Glory!¡± he cracked back without a flinch. ¡°Da Horizon Arena¡¯s where heroes are made! Yah name will forever grace da stands in glory!¡± ¡°So there¡¯s no . . . actual reward?¡± The jungle-folk finally stopped shaking my hand and stepped back. He looked like a night-monkey with brown and white fur and two bulging brown eyes and a wispy white moustache that drooped over his chittering mouth. He paused for effect, then grinned, showing sharp, little teeth. ¡°Talbot, ma boy, listen. Yah¡¯ve got some serious fire in ya, eh? Da name¡¯s Zhokko, and Zhokko is a potential spier, a talent picker ¡ª ya don¡¯t want to be wasting yah time with dese midday scrappers. The real action, the real money ¡ª it¡¯s in de dusk bouts! Big wagers, big crowds; big risks. There¡¯s at least one dead contestant every week, sure, but you? Ya seem to me to be cut out for it ¡ª a natural.¡± He spoke in a fluid, comfortable accent similar to Jamaican or Hawai¡¯ian ¡ª everyone did in Ith-Korr, but his was the strongest accent I¡¯d heard. His voice was confidently welcoming, but sounded like a used car salesman to me. He spread his arms wide, as if offering me the world. Draping dark short sleeves were pulled over his fur and his chest was bare between the lapels of a little shoe string tied waistcoat. His wispy moustache danced as he talked, and every time he said his own name, he patted himself on his bare chest: ¡°Ya could make a killing, Mista, pardon me language. Let Zhokko set it up, ah¡¯ll take care o¡¯ de details, ya just show up and do what ya do best.¡± The door opened on the other side of the ready room. Patrick instantly fled down the steps and out of sight and the wounded combatants started to file out after him. Zhokko¡¯s eyes glinted in the dim green glow of the vines, one half of his body lit by the late morning light. ¡°Let me ¡ª let me think about it,¡± I muttered, pushing past him. I didn¡¯t know how much time we would be in Ith-Korr, but honestly I couldn¡¯t think of anything else to do. In the moment, I sent out a probe to SYS: Do I not get any XP for defeating enemies ¡ª only for killing them? // SYS : You know the answer. XP is the term we use when speaking to Earthlings, but it is life essence that Systems distribute. // I was afraid of that. . . . How about Skills? I¡¯d still be increasing them in the Arena, wouldn¡¯t I? // SYS : That¡¯s right, I suppose. // Not too hot on the Arena, are you? I thought. // SYS : There are better ways to achieve your necessary growth. // I ignored her. You said a while ago that Systems share information, right? So if any of the Systems from other Worlds came up with a way of facing off against the World-Eater, or even a way to slow it down, you¡¯d know as well? // SYS : I am the preeminent font of knowledge on all things World-Eater. If there was such a thing, I would know, and so, therefore, would you. This is an overarching quest that demands your full engagement. I chose you, and you chose Barbican. We make the most of the hands we¡¯re dealt. // Would another World be better? Should I be aiming for a World Gate? // SYS : Barbican is as good as any. Its deadly savagery is ¡ª // Got it, so I made the right decision. Well, just let me know if any of your mates come up with something ¡ª we¡¯re sort of pissing in the wind, here. As I went, Zhokko clapped me on the shoulder and called after me: ¡°Ya¡¯d walk out a legend! Talbot of the Flying Spear, dey¡¯ll call ya! Dey¡¯d paint yah sigil on every banner, ya¡¯d get free luxuries for life, and yah pick of da dames ¡ª if ya survive! But oh, keen ol¡¯ Zhokko knows ya¡¯d survive, yah?¡± Stepping back out into the full sun was blinding, and I peered through split fingers. The crowds were gradually filtering through the foyer out again, driven on by the stone giant of a man, arms out wide. Instantly someone spotted me and a few loud calls of my name followed, and a few even stopped to vigorously shake my hand. A few others gave me awful side-eyes, even muttered under their breath. I couldn¡¯t hear exactly what they said, but I got the gist; they had lost money betting against me. Hrunja had been the favourite, I¡¯d heard the announcer say. Shocking upstart. Likely I¡¯d just made a good few enemies in this place. And now we had to descend back through the tiers of Ith-Korr, and back through the seedy residential district. I blew out my lungs and stared into the crowd. I spotted Lenya huddled in a corner of the foyer, staff pressed over her body, head shadowed by her completely dishevelled, wild auburn hair. As the numbers thinned, I pushed my way over to her, shaking hands and performatively raising my spear whenever prompted. C37 : Shock-Troopers ¡°Lenya? Shall we go?¡± Her face was pale beneath the heavy curtain of fiery hair. She was trembling. As she looked up, her wide almond eyes were dripping uneasy emotion. She mumbled something and over the crowd at my back I only made out a few words: ¡°. . . barbaric . . . threw her off . . .¡± Absolutely no experience of dealing with women outside of my extremely short-lived dating app girlfriend, I grimaced and stood dumbly next to her a moment, then reached out a hand. All at once, she snapped the staff down, rapping it against my knuckles. ¡°Ow!¡± ¡°Do not be so bold, gladiator!¡± She spoke the last word with venom. She was back to that boisterous, haughty elf princess I knew. Awkward relief and irritation both flooded me. A loud, chittering giggle came from beside. ¡°Our champion Mista has Missus trouble, eh?¡± Zhokko had followed me out. He was leaning forwards on the light tips of his toes, hands at his side stuffed into the shallow pockets of his waistcoat, which I now saw was royal blue and white houndstooth. I winced and braced myself for the onslaught, but only a sigh came. ¡°Come on, Talbot, let¡¯s go,¡± Lenya muttered, and set off. ¡°Just think about my offer!¡± Zhokko called after me, waving madly and flashing a wide grin. ¡°What did that little loudmouth fool offer you? More bloodshed?¡± ¡°. . . Yes ¡ª he wants me to take part in the evening bout. Better sport, apparently.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± she breathed. Descending from the gilded and bright heights of the arena, the city was transformed again. The broad, thick vines that held the broad wooden platforms of Ith-Korr aloft spiralled downwards, giving that eerie green glow to the otherwise darkened built-up district. As we climbed down, the precariously stacked hovels came up to meet us. Vyneshi ¡ª jungle-folk ¡ª swung between ropes or slid down the leaning walls, while many others of all folks squatted perched on the roofs, watching the descent of the arena-goers. As we began making our way through the district, in the shadows of narrow walkways, I felt Lenya tense up beside me, her steps quickening to match mine, and this time was happy to come to my side. The smell of rot, mingled with smoke and sweat, blew over the grim streets. Just about in sight of the ladder which would take us further down and to the Craftship, three dark figures emerged from a low doorway. They walked carefully ¡ª probably disguising weapons. I stopped in my tracks and held a hand out to Lenya. ¡°Stand back for this one,¡± I said. Then feeling her shrink away from both the scene and me, I added, I suppose trying to reassure her, ¡°I won¡¯t start anything, but I still feel dangerous after that bout.¡± I reached a finger into my pouch for the Analysis Card. Almost forgot it¡¯s been upgraded! Let¡¯s see what all the fuss is about.
Name : Rokk, Level 3
Stats : Str 6, Dex 8, Con 5, Mnd 3
Skills : Vigour Lvl 1 (Lvl 2)
Inventory : Bone Dagger, Vine Rope, Stones, 2 Copper Coins
Weakness : Hesitates in direct confrontation
Home : The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Ith-Korr, Barbican
There were two other boxes that popped up for the other two, but I didn¡¯t get to scrutinise them. I didn¡¯t have a moment to consider what might have changed with the Analysis Card. The earth SHOOK fiercely. A dark corpse light, tinged purple, seemed to sap all the green glow of the vines, and so many of them were stretched and in a heartbeat torn from the trees above and fell heavily like tight springs on the planks, which suddenly dropped a yard beneath us, suspending hundreds of people all around us in the open air for a moment before we crashed down onto the planks beneath. The tier was caught taut by the remaining vines but the vast tier of the city still swayed violently beneath our feet. The entirety of Ith-Korr LURCHED horribly as the nearest of the great redwood trees that the city was built around and upon shuddered, large streaks of bark exploding from its trunk and showering the lower tiers. Lenya was thrown off her feet. My blood had immediately started to rise when confronted by the possible brigands, so I was prepared and caught myself strong, then ran to her side and helped lift her up. Screams and yells burst from every tier, and then the cries were dampened out by a dull, great noise of beating wings. We ran to the fenced extremity of the residential tier and scanned, panicked, the jungle beneath and beyond. Then we looked up. The sky had split into darkness, as if the clouds had parted and revealed night. But the night swirled purple and horrible, and from six roiling portals spewed dozens of winged fiends. Black as coal, horrific humanoid creatures dived from the air towards the many tiers of the city. Many flew past us as we stared, gripping the wooden fence hard as the tier lurched again and more vines broke with a sickening SNAP all around us. Two of the dark monsters broke from their dive suddenly with a massive effort of stretched wings and tore a few inches over our heads. Spinning, I watched as they both twisted in the air and stopped still, then folded their wings back and dropped onto wood ten yards from us. Their wings were black leather stretched over shining metal bone, curled and taloned like bat¡¯s wings, and they stood perhaps five feet tall. Their heads were unsettling mockeries of humanity, contorted features dotted with torn skin through which more of the bone showed, set with two large, heavy-lidded glowing purple eyes. ¡°Albowesti,¡± Lenya breathed, and put a hand to her chest. Her breath caught and she fell again to her knees, eyes wide in fear, face stretched pale, trembling like a frantic animal. I watched as one of the two demonic fiends brandished knife-long gleaming talons and leapt at one of the brigands. With a single swipe it opened the man¡¯s shirt and chest, spraying dark red blood. The jungle-folk fell with a scream and writhed on the floor, fingers darting helplessly over the wound for a few moments, then fell still, eyes dark. Then as I¡¯d experienced a few times before since coming to Barbican, something in me started to burn as my frame vibrated with a sudden itch to move. My brain set alight with fear, but something else ¡ª much more powerful ¡ª drove me to grip my spear and sprint forwards in a bloodlust haze. The second fiend hissed through a distended mouth lined with thin, pointed teeth, shining the same steel-grey as its exposed bones. It leant forwards and raked its clawed hands into the wood in front of it, splintering lines behind, then pushed forwards with all four limbs and met my rush. My spear thrust forwards, arms taut with force. The fiend ducked low with unnatural speed, but as it did I flicked the weapon down, tears a narrow gash across its back and through one of its leathery wings. It SCREECHED bloody murder, and for a moment the air buzzed with a chilling energy that set my teeth on edge and had me snap my jaws clenched. Retracting the spear fast as I could, I braced for the response: long talons gleamed and the thing lunged with a slash. The metal-bladed claws met only the thick haft of the Bronze Spear of Blinding, and it staggered backwards. I noticed then that its eyes, previously darting and purple, had glazed over white ¡ª unseeing. This weapon finally lives up to its name! My heart pounded, the primal fire burned hotter, and with a roar of [Weapon Mastery] the spearhead pierced the thing¡¯s chattering mouth and neck and it fell still and heavy on the spear. As it hit the planks, the other turned from the fleeing brigands and saw its dead companion ¡ª vague recollection shimmered in its eyes, but it seemed only partially cognizant of the situation. Its wings were drawn out violently and it swayed for a moment, only to catch wind and toss itself forwards. With a swift spin, I angled my spear low and aimed for the creature¡¯s legs. The wings beat fiercely and stopped it in the air, just a half-inch before the blade, and a long, black tongue licked out of its hanging mouth. At that moment a booming sound erupted ahead and below us ¡ª a powerful voice: ¡°Talbot!¡± Glancing over the fiend¡¯s shoulder for a moment I saw the shock of red hair first as Alator of the Wheel of the Sun lifted himself from the tier below and with one hand launched himself from the ladder-door in the floor. Without a moment¡¯s thought, he tore forwards with a sharp push of ankle and bare toes towards the fray. The fiend either didn¡¯t notice or didn¡¯t care, and took my momentary distraction as the opportunity it was: it twisted its body and rolled its shoulder down as if in a front flip and a clawed wing screamed through the air towards me. Falling back, I braced both hands on the spear and dragged it up aloft to meet the attack, the last shimmer of the Skill giving me the precision I thought I needed. But the wing slapped noisily onto the wood and folded over it, the spiked thumb-like bone with unnatural articulation came over the top of it and stabbed down at my shoulder. It raked along my new Linothorax ¡ª didn¡¯t puncture it, but the weight and ferocity forced me down to one knee and it spat venom and drew back an arm to slash at me. At that moment, Alator reached it ¡ª with flashing eyes and a pouring burst of golden smoke he grabbed the base of both wings and wrenched the thing backwards and over himself, turning explosively at the waist as he did, and there was a CRUNCH as both wings broke. The thing was thrown into the air screeching and racked with pain and landed with a thud a mess six yards away. ¡°What is happening?¡± I yelled at Alator. He spun round to face me, only rage and panic on his face for a moment, then forced a single thread of sanity to respond: ¡°This is the start, Talbot. This is how the World-Eater makes itself known.¡± C38 : The Scouring of Ith-Korr I My heart stopped cold as my companion¡¯s words settled in. The adrenaline abated and I felt a shudder run over my body. The World-Eater is moving. ¡°We¡¯ve done too little,¡± Alator spat, eyes cruel. ¡°Your growth is not fast enough.¡± Bzz. // SYS : You gained 21 XP for defeating the first Voracious Chiroptera and 10 XP when Alator defeated the second. You now have 114 and need 115 total for the next Level. // One off, really? Couldn¡¯t have rounded up? . . . // SYS : The lion¡¯s share is given to the one who struck the final blow. // Fine. . . . Is he right? Am I still too weak? // SYS : Your growth is the fastest I¡¯ve witnessed of anyone in any New World. But yes, he is correct. As a Warrior of the Gods, much more is needed from you. // I looked down to my fists gripping the thick, wooden pole of my spear. They trembled for a moment and I clenched them tight, white-knuckled, then looked back up to Alator. For a sluggish, mind-blanked second, all warrior instincts left me and all I could do was mutter: ¡°What should we do?¡± ¡°We need to move ¡ª now. The whole city is shaking, and it won¡¯t hold forever. These frail, precarious vines ¡ª pitiful peacetime cities like this will be the first to succumb. Ith-Korr¡¯s fall will be devastating. If we can¡¯t make it out in time, we at least need to be low enough that we¡¯ll survive the leap.¡± He gestured over to the sprawl of deep green jungle beneath us. The broken fiend gurgled blood behind him and struggled up to its feet, a mixture of alien rage and very familiar pain. Alator turned to it and began to step towards it. Behind me, Lenya struggled to her feet, a hand on the fence banister, and took to my side. She mumbled an incantation under her breath. An energy pumped through the air and the wind caught up and pulled past me towards her as she reached for something arcane. Then like a lifted shroud, my worries dissipated somewhat, or at least were replaced by a call to action. A soft moan left her chest as she slumped standing again, the magical effort taxing her. ¡°I-I can . . .¡± she started, then trailed off, cleared her throat and started again with trembling words. ¡°If we jump, I think I could keep us safe.¡± I turned to her. Her mouth was pulled back in no confidence and a tear broke from her grey eyes. ¡°You think? I don¡¯t fancy crawling around that jungle with broken ankles,¡± I said. Whatever magic she had performed seemed to lay underneath my heart, keeping me aloft. Her eyes wavered, she swallowed and redoubled her effort, and her voice steadied. ¡°I can do it.¡± I nodded and turned back to Alator. He had made to the half-dead fiend and with a FLASH of gold, caved in its inhuman face with one savage movement of his right fist. Then he returned to us. ¡°Let¡¯s head down.¡± He turned to leave, but I stamped the butt of my spear into the ground. Even over the clamour of the city, it resounded through the tier. ¡°We¡¯re not running from this. People are dying. Let¡¯s clean up.¡± His long, sharp teeth flashed like a wolf¡¯s fangs and he rolled his shoulders, the skin rippling and pulling taut over broadening muscles. Despite the camaraderie, I flinched a moment and moved the spear. Then his red tongue licked out of his mouth and his face split in an awful, ugly smile ¡ª the same I¡¯m sure I wore whenever racing towards my own doom. ¡°I¡¯ll follow your lead, Talbot.¡± Immediately we set off running through a narrow street towards a loud discordance of shouts and the beating of wings. The frail green glow passed us as strobe lights and the purple corpse-light of the portals in the sky above lit everything like a macabre nightclub. We tore around a corner and came upon another wider courtyard area to find a group of people, huddled together and crouched, being beset by another three of the flying bat-like World-Eater demon fiends. The area was scattered with hoarded debris, much like the between-tier below us. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°On me!¡± I roared, and lifted my spear to the air, and with the other hand touched the Analysis Card in my pouch.
Fiend : Voracious Chiroptera A, Level 2
Stats : Str 6, Dex 9, Con 4, Mnd 2
Attacks : Needle Bite, Talon Slash, Wing Spike
Loot : Void Claw, Void Patagium
Weakness : Clumsy on uneven ground
XP : 21
Fiend : Voracious Chiroptera B, Level 2
Weakness : Sensitive chest
Fiend : Voracious Chiroptera C, Level 2
Weakness : Blinded by sparks
Loathe to tarry, and furious at my own incompetence, I popped off [Battle Tactics] and [Battle Tactics: Metavision] together as soon as I had sight of their Weaknesses, and while running, called to my companions beside me: ¡°Lenya, we need your sparks again ¡ª aim for a yard or so in front of the one on the right. Alator, get one good punch centre mass to the one in the middle and it¡¯ll crumple. I¡¯ll take the left.¡± They both nodded back to me. Lenya immediately halted in her approach and raised her staff to point at Voracious Chiroptera C, and began her incantations. I felt the pull of energy towards her again as the air began to warm and her hand glowed, but from my recollection of the last time she had performed this feat, and from the Skills drawing my eyes perfect and wide, I knew it would take her a little while ¡ª I didn¡¯t have time to wait for the result. The fiends had seen our approach, but their distended mouths simply hissed and they continued to advance on the huddling group of jungle-folk, all wrapped up in each other¡¯s arms, fearful, tearful. Before the first reached, I skidded to one sandalled foot and brought my spear back and over my shoulder, and with a grunt and a quick reach deep into the stream of my inner power for the small cold steel blue light, sent the fire of [Weapon Mastery] through my arm. I hurled the spear like a dart at Voracious Chiroptera A. Its high Dexterity was enough to react and spin away from the weapon, and it soared past it and with a THUD the spearhead embedded itself into the splintering shambles of wood that made up one of the residential shanties. With a dark hiss its attention was drawn ¡ª that was all I was after. I set off again and with exaggerated leaps, made look as if I would meet the creature in melee. It took the bait and dropped to the ground and with clawed limbs pelted towards me. The other two were drawn by the danger as well and left the cowering mass behind, widening their mouths past any expected jaw-breaking point and let out an awful undulating screech, then took off towards us as well. One of the jungle-folk peered her head up and immediately grabbed another next to her ¡ª a small child ¡ª and set off at a sprint away from the area. The others followed. Complication gone. Everyone¡¯s safe. That moment, I heard Lenya¡¯s fine, clear voice call, ¡°[Flicker : Spark].¡± Two of the broad wooden planks lit up red as sparks erupted from the ground and sprayed in all directions. The fiend she was aiming at stopped dead in its tracks as the embers jumped into the air towards it and its eyes shut hard. Alator then reached his mark. A wild cry and lunge sent talons raking down, but my companion was beside them, and with a ¡ª frankly ¡ª beautiful pirouette, he emptied his lungs in a shout, brought his torso violently about, and landed a clean haymaker into the fiend¡¯s chest. Its whole torso cracked inwards and metallic bones bent under the impact. It was flung backwards and lay still. Focusing on my own, feeling the Skills I had drawn on leave me, I held onto the battleground knowledge that [Battle Tactics : Metavision] had imprinted onto my mind, and stopped on a dime and leapt three yards to the left, against one of the houses, putting a mess of broken iron and the ribs of barrels between us. It reached the debris at speed and the first step into the pile had it slide and skid, completely off-balance. I drew the Frostwaith Claw and leapt on top of it, beating aside its panicked and clumsy strikes, and plunged the cold, near-transparent six inches into its head, then brought a hand back and with an open palm pushed it into its skull, leaving the claw flush with the skin. It rambled and roiled with death throes. I took off it and went to retrieve the spear, then turned back towards the rest of the fight. Alator was advancing on the final foe, which was thrashing its talons about blindly. He dodged one strike and made to close the distance. ¡°No! It¡¯s mine!¡± I roared over, blood pumping FIRE. My companion¡¯s eyes flashed fast fury and hate, but he controlled himself and took a step backwards. The blinded fiend reacted to my voice and turned towards me. I closed the distance and at the furthest extent of my spear, with a great effort of Strength and Dexterity both, I thrust the spearhead deep into its chest. The bronze screeched between metal ribs and it fell limp. The familiar fatigue reared its ugly head and had me sway, my vision spotted. Blinking, I shook my head, and bellowed out a battle cry for any other monsters that might hear. // SYS : You gained 21 XP for defeating Voracious Chiroptera A and 10 XP for defeating Voracious Chiroptera C. You now have 145 and need 115 total for the next Level. // SPEED. DEX. // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 8. Your Dexterity Stat is now 9. You have 30 XP remaining and need 122 total for the next Level. // C39 : The Scouring of Ith-Korr II We pressed on through the district, stamping over uneven planks, dropped a yard then diagonally lifted another where some vines had torn and the tier had settled at all angles. The screeches of the World-Eater¡¯s fiends still echoed from beneath and above, vibrating the grand trees around which Ith-Korr was so precariously built. Alator had called it a pitiful peacetime city. I¡¯m sure he wasn¡¯t complaining about the ease of the bounty we earned, or the soft bed he¡¯d slept in last night. . . . I tried to catch his eye while moving, but his attention was elsewhere. He twitched his head around, scrutinising every shadow for danger, listening intently to the cacophony of distant screams and battle that echoed through the fractured tiers. His blue eyes glinted something sharp and alert, the always-readiness that I so admired, and so envied, and so feared. As we approached another broad open space, perhaps the last in the district, the air stilled for a moment as if the city was holding its breath. Tension brushed all our bodies, and I realised what was happening ¡ª the wind was being drawn in around us, towards the courtyard. ¡°Magic,¡± breathed Lenya from beside me, just barely keeping pace. The exhaustion and terror had already marked her face in blood and sweat; the sheer scale of the assault pressed on her. I gulped down air and steeled myself, refusing to share the same panic. Instead, I nodded and we sprinted through, emerging into devastation. The courtyard was a shattered ruin. Perhaps once a bustling, happy (if struggling) space, it lay in smouldering chaos. The wooden planks that formed the floor were splintered and even more uneven than in the rest of the district. The massive, coiled vines, once vibrant, lay limp entirely, torn from their moorings high above. Their luminescent glow was replaced by a dirty red as dying embers played over them. Smoke curled up from the charred remains of stalls and carts and . . . bodies. There were three dressed in the grey-green leather of the Wardship, which must have gone down fighting. Their ornamental vine-detailed spears lay broken beside them. Others were pinned beneath collapsed structures ¡ª small jungle-folk, wiry forms motionless, wide eyes vacantly staring out, and among them a few larger frames of desert-folk and even the hard-shelled coral-folk, dark leathery skin slick with blood. Then the rush of energy was revealed: a deep crater marred the ground in the centre of the courtyard, a jagged pit pulsing with unnatural energy, and above it, a towering fiend hovered a yard from the ground. The same purple-black stretched skin covered metallic bones, and massive bat wings extended from its shoulders, but it stood twice as tall as the fiends we had been fighting so far, and its eyes dripped with black smoke. Not yet aware of us, it raised an arm and along with the searing air, every shadow in the courtyard rushed up to his fist, then with a visible effort he extended one finger and a shanty house across the way EXPLODED into flame like a grenade had been set off within. Screams followed, and the heavy thudding of half a dozen light shapes as bodies were flung from within. Its broad, jagged mouth split into a cruel smile and a black tongue licked out as if to taste the death it dealt. A low growl came from Alator beside me. Where I had previously only seen rage and instant ACTION from him, he paused for a moment and glanced around, eyes flashing, considering options. I reached for the Analysis Card. As I did, I felt a very brief wave of dizziness ¡ª I realised something that I had previously suspected: it took my own energy to utilise this item. // SYS ERR 69 : No profile found. Creating a profile based on available parameters. //
Fiend : ?, Level 21
Stats : Str 12, Dex 19, Con 8, Mnd ?
Attacks : Drain, Impact Barrage, Shadow Burst
Loot : Void Claw, Void Essence
Weakness : A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Easily enraged under pressure
XP : 223
It was the first time I¡¯d seen a Stat marked with a ¡®?¡¯ since Alator. SYS had told me that this meant its Mind was greater than six times mine, putting it at least at 25. But the rest of its Stats were well within my range. Level be damned! I made to rush forwards, but Alator held out a hand and gripped my linen armour, rooting me to the spot, then dragged me to the side of the building, just out of sight of the thing. Turning to him, his eyes were twitching with some deep memory. After a moment, he muttered: ¡°A-any insight on this one?¡± Lenya pressed up behind me. Her limbs seemed caught petrified. I wanted to reassure her, but I didn¡¯t have capacity in my thrill and surge of confusion. Blowing out my lungs, trying to calm my blood a moment, I twisted myself away from his grip and peered around the corner. I opened my vision to possibility and instinct as I reached into the stream of my inner power for [Battle Tactics]. A few ways forward immediately popped into my mind, but quickly left again, and I studied it for a half-minute. As I did, its Weakness changed.
Weakness : Holy ground
Are those Weaknesses enough? I don¡¯t even know what HOLY means in this World. Can I manipulate it into forgetting its arcane power and facing me in close quarters? Would its Dexterity put it out of reach of my spear? I held up the Bronze Spear of Blinding. The enchantment was not reliable enough to count on. I couldn¡¯t recall exactly how many attacks I¡¯d landed with it, but to my recollection, the blindness effect had only triggered once. As the Skill faded, one image stayed with me: one of those awful explosions, cast with the flick of a long, blackened finger, bursting my chest and killing me instantly. That sent enough of a chill through me to stop my impatience. I leant back into the side of the building to find Alator watching me and Lenya beside me at my feet, crumpled, hugging her knees, panting. I ran my fingers through my hair and my fingers came back slick. ¡°I¡¯ve not got nothing, but. . . . That horrible smile hides a berserker¡¯s temperament; if we can pressure it, it¡¯ll start to react on instinct instead of with its mind, but it¡¯s not like the beasts we¡¯ve faced before ¡ª it¡¯s got a terrifying mind.¡± Alator nodded. His gritted teeth showed he was already painfully aware of all this. I gripped my spear. ¡°But it will tear down the entire city if we don¡¯t do something. There are no members of the Wardship on this tier; they must be all fighting elsewhere. It knows to target the vines, and it seems to be killing for . . . fun.¡± ¡°It kills because it can. . . . Because it must,¡± came Alator¡¯s dark, gravelly response. ¡°Holy magic might work,¡± I appealed to Lenya, who looked up to me through bleary eyes and a red face. Her words came staccato between breaths. ¡°I am not a cleric of the Kaila Leuxs ¡ª the Omen of Light. I do not accord any honours of divinity.¡± At our blank faces, she added, ¡°I cannot perform miracles.¡± ¡°She will be no use in this fight,¡± Alator spat bluntly. Her forehead creased into a scowl and she tried to stand on shaking legs, but made it only six inches from the ground before falling back down. ¡°You¡¯ve faced one of these before.¡± ¡°A few, yes. They killed . . . they took something precious from me.¡± I let a moment of heavy silence pass between us, but the time wasn¡¯t right to press. I cracked my neck and rolled my shoulders. ¡°Anything to add?¡± ¡°They call themselves vampyri. They are not the greatest of the World-Eater¡¯s soldiers, but they may be the most sadistic. Forgive my ugly hesitation. I did not expect to see one in an initial raid.¡± He lingered a moment longer, then filled his lungs in a sharp pull and pumped heat through his body; I felt it radiate from his skin, and his eyes lit gold, spilling yellow smoke. As the energy settled, he straightened his back and turned back to me, eyes cast in a blue blaze. ¡°Will you still not take a weapon?¡± I asked him. ¡°Do you have one to give?¡± I glanced down at Lenya, who held her staff like a lover to her chest, body racking. ¡°Well, no.¡± ¡°And you will not relinquish yours?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then off we go. It¡¯s too far for surprise; we face it head on.¡± I reeled, filled with terror and exhilaration, and stepped after him into the clearing. The World-Eater¡¯s servant still hovered ominously above the jagged crater, black ashy smoke still trickling from its eyes. There was a start of that same rush of magic as before, like the pull of wind that urges you to jump off a cliff, but it stopped suddenly as it noticed our approach. It turned slowly as we set ourselves a few paces apart, and raised its hands out to the side. ¡°More prey for this one,¡± its voice came snarled and rasping. Then its head snapped to one side and regarded us, and its black eyes widened ¡ª with excitement or something else, I couldn¡¯t tell, then narrowed. ¡°You are not of Barbican. Perhaps you are the reason I am here. Tell me, you two, have you looked upon the World-Eater?¡± Without a word, Alator took low, almost to a crouch, thews bunched and a radiant heat blew about him. His eyes lit near white gold and the sweat danced to steam off his back. His lips peeled back over his wolf¡¯s teeth and he responded only with a growl. ¡°Oh, but you ¡ª you are something familiar!¡± The thing extended a gangly black arm at Alator and pointed a gnarled, long, leathery finger. The arcane demon fiend threw its head back and cackled, jagged mouth widening ear-to-ear like a skull¡¯s grin, and its other hand reached up, wiping ash from its face. ¡°You¡¯ve something of the Prowling Wheel about you! To think it would be me to put out the last Flame!¡± At that, and I¡¯m not sure whether I was glad to see it, Alator¡¯s face twisted to fury. With a burst of light from his face like a solar flare, he shed what veil of humanity he managed to wear day-to-day, and fully became a beast. He launched himself off with both feet, cracking the plank beneath him, kicking an explosion of splinters behind him, and soared at the fiend. C40 : The Scouring of Ith-Korr III Alator reached the fiend in two bounds. He was swift, unthinking rage, but the vampyri was ready for him. A burst of smoke swirled about as it beat its wings and lifted itself a yard and threw its body over Alator as he leapt. In the air, another flap of his wings sent him plummeting towards Alator beneath him and he snapped his torso about and threw a punch. Reacting instantly, eyes flashing, Alator stamped a bare foot hard into the planks, denting and cracking the wood, and span on his heel, reaching out with a savage grip. The thrown punch landed hard against my companion¡¯s jaw, a splash of blood came out of a torn lip, but he grunted as he turned his head with the blow. He grabbed the demon by the throat with his left hand and smashed his knuckles deep into the thing¡¯s ribs. The impact and sound of the thing¡¯s emptied lungs reverberated the air. With a massive gush of wind it attempted to escape the grapple while grabbing Alator¡¯s head with one hand, a clawed thumbnail seeking his blue eyes. Alator shut his eyes hard and yelled, landing another punch to the ribs. Bone on metal thudded dully out as a welt was left and black-purple gore rippled up its side. Locked in their death grip, I finally reached them. With the contorting, twisting target, I couldn¡¯t be confident in a stab, so I brought the Bronze Spear of Blinding across me and aimed to slash at the thing¡¯s wings. As the spearhead cut through the air, its eyes darted to me and it made a wild turn in the air, black muscles stretched beneath skin and pulled torn lines across its arms as he clasped both hands onto Alator¡¯s face, even as I advanced, and with shaking strength dug into Alator¡¯s clenched eyelids. ¡°One second more!¡± I yelled. The spear cut clean across the fiend¡¯s wing, searing through the black leather patagium and a thumb-like bone of brittle metal. It screeched and redoubled its effort. Alator finally relented and let go of his grip, using both hands to lift the thing¡¯s arms up and away from him, fists around its wrists. ¡°Now!¡± he roared. I brought the spear back and with a burst of [Vigour], stabbed towards its head. In hindsight, a mistake ¡ª the target was too small, and the thing¡¯s Dexterity was too great. With its attention fully on me, it grinned sharp, pointed metallic teeth and dodged aside, the spear whistling harmlessly past its shoulder. With the Skill pumping hundred mph blood, I layered on [Weapon Mastery] and twisted the spear¡¯s pole, bashed it hard against the thing¡¯s neck, and brought my weapon back, pulling myself backwards a yard, meaning to tear through its carotid. The razor-sharp bronze blade, shaped long like a cypress tree, cut a half-inch through wet, gummy skin beneath its jaw and a glut of ichor burst from it like a water balloon bubble popping. With the momentum, I fell back and tripped to one knee, and the HEAVY weight of all the Skill use so far today settled into the balls of my shoulders and my thighs. The vampyri screeched bloody murder, fricative motion vibrating the strained lines in its neck. I winced my eyes closed and brought my hands up to my ears in horrible pain. When it had abated after a few seconds, I saw it had made ten yards¡¯ space away from Alator. My companion was wiping blood from his eyes and staggering, likely all he saw was blood and stars. His teeth were gnashing and the muscles in his arms were all twitching ferocity. The vampyri fiend tried to leap into the air with a flap of its wings, but air sailed through the long cut through its left and it tilted dangerously and gave up, landing softly on the ground. Its ribs were covered in cracks and dents, dripping blood, the metal bone showing through. It held up a hand to its neck and fingered the wound to test the depth. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Instead of the normal disgusting, evil smile it wore previously, its face was locked in a grimace. Its eyes flitted about like a feral beast, and its mouth snapped this way and that, snarling and spitting. I wanted to give Alator a moment to get his bearings, but as I took a breath, the fiend locked its eyes on me and started in a drastic sprint. Without thinking, I leapt a few yards to Alator¡¯s side and clapped him on the back, then raised my spear and faced off with the creature. It reached me in a single moment. In full dreadful hysteria, I pumped [Weapon Mastery] and threw my weapon-arm forwards to beat it back, but as it had done before, it dodged, even through its half-mad spitting rage, and the bronze stopped at the extent of my reach, loose in the air. Then it was on me. I felt cold emanating from it, enough to turn my stomach and dry my eyes. I tried to flash [Vigour] and leap away, but the stream of my inner power was becoming murky, the lights almost out of sight, and it took me too long to try to reach for it. Two punches, one after the other on either side of my torso, landed with sickening thuds. I felt my flesh bruise to the bone and the Linothorax quaked and stiffened with frost. Wincing through the pain, breath coming tortured, I finally found [Vigour] in me and shocked it into my system, and kicked out at the beast. My foot hit it in its abdomen and it doubled over for a moment. Its eyes flashed further hate and black and purple bile poured from its mouth as it righted itself. I took the chance to pull my spear back, the ultimate echo of the last two activated Skills still with me, and sent it down as I did, tearing the spearhead into its shoulder, splitting the skin over metal bones and black-purple sinews like a Japanese omelette. The bile and the damage was nauseating, but I swallowed hard and leapt backwards, landing heavily as the agony in my ribs sent shuddering waves. That moment, Alator roared, finally back with us, and set off at a dash towards the fiend. As he ran, he brought his arms out wide and with a flash of golden sunlight, almost faster than the eye could see, he impacted the thing and tackled it to the ground. Grappling furiously, both beasts traded blows, punching and scratching and hammering the other. Almost in full exhaustion, I leant against my spear and could only watch. Eventually, it was clear Alator had the upper hand, and the vampyri dug its fingers into a plank behind its head and pulled hard, sliding free of Alator¡¯s onslaught. It righted itself, looked between us, and jumped a beeline for my companion. ¡°Talbot, he¡¯s after you!¡± Lenya¡¯s delicate voice was panicked, but somehow amplified over the bedlam rush of blood in my ears, the thing twisted to an impossible angle and its one good wing beat violently to turn and indeed it lunged at me. The second¡¯s warning Lenya had given me provided the time to wrench my spear up and I stabbed wildly at it. The blade pierced skin and rasped on metal bone and the side of its hip was torn open. The pain was enough for it to pull back and make a few paces distance. It hissed at Lenya, but made no move to try to pass me. I glanced behind me to see her collapsed against the wall, one hand grasping her staff, the other hand out. A buzz of energy poured from her and her bright grey eyes were rolled back white, then the grey faded back in and she fell to her knees. I breathed silent thanks to her, and focused again on the vampyri. Covered in wounds, it hobbled forwards, clawed fingers playing at the mess we had made of its body. The hate in its face was mingled with fear, its sagging jaw twitched about as it looked to Alator and then myself. A faint rush of magic moved towards it, pulling debris and splinters, but then stilled. ¡°You don¡¯t have the strength left,¡± Alator mocked it. Alator of the Solar Wheel took a heavy step forward, searing the planks of wood with the radiant heat of his bare feet, leaving faint, smoking footprints as he went. ¡°You will not take anything more from me.¡± Before he reached the demon fiend, it brought itself up to its full height and sucked in air, energy, life, happiness, and attempted again to summon the fireball. The smoke covering the courtyard began to drift towards him, and leaves rustled all about me and began to tumble across the floor. ¡°No,¡± Alator simply hissed, and made the last five yards in a bound. A wild clawed slash was deflected, the thing¡¯s body was twisted round under a savage grip, and its knees were kicked out from behind. Dropping to the floor, Alator placed his forearm under its jaw and the other hand dug into its skull. I heard the creaking strain of the metal beneath its skin. Magic twisted the air and warped reality around them, but the impact gradually drifted away, the winds stilling. Then with a howl like a mourning wolf¡¯s last, he jerked one way CRACK, then the other CRUNCH, and the thing went limp in his grasp. C41 : Aftermath of the Scouring Alator straightened his back, then threw his head back and howled to the sky. Perhaps he was some kind of werewolf ¡ª when the three moons of Barbican align and are all full at the same time, maybe he becomes furry. Come on, you¡¯re delirious. I shook side to side with every step, heading towards him, then a knee buckled and I fell flat to the ground. As the howl echoed through the courtyard and the last of the ugly flames dissipated in the thin high altitude air, Alator came to my side and looked over my body. There were tears in his eyes ¡ª sadness, of course, but also catharsis ¡ª that he quickly wiped away and set to work like a handsy physician. ¡°It didn¡¯t break the skin anywhere, did it?¡± Alator said as he unstrapped the Linothorax and started to lift the layers. I was too out of breath to stop him; he just batted my weak arms away when I tried. He turned me over and prodded and I squealed as he pushed his thumb into the wounds on my ribs, and then the tension left and he blew out his cheeks and sat down heavily next to me. ¡°What in all hell was that about? I feel violated.¡± Alator¡¯s muscled form heaved with his own exhaustion and he leant himself backwards on his hands, looking at the wooden tier roof high above us. ¡°You felt the cold coming from the vampyri, yes?¡± I nodded, blanching all over again. Alator continued without looking at me: ¡°You¡¯re right to fear it; it¡¯s a curse. If it gets in you ¡ª even just a few seconds¡¯ exposure to an open wound is enough ¡ª it¡¯ll eat at you from the inside. You¡¯ll . . . lose yourself.¡± Eyes wide, I groaned to sitting and checked myself over. With my stiff linen armour parted I tugged at the large armholes of my sleeveless off-white (I want to say eggshell) tunic. Beneath was a mess of deep red knuckle-impacts, but no torn skin. Bruises started to form even as I look at them, and I moaned and fell back to the floor. Bzz. // SYS : You gained 111 XP for defeating the Voracious Vampyri. You now have 143 and need 122 total for the next Level. // A reflexive, cruel spark took my mind to a dark place for a moment, and I could not help but allow a thought to consume me: I suppose one good thing has come out of this. Allowing myself a little while, I let my blood settle and thought about my options. Strength was the obvious choice; every time I witnessed Alator accomplish the impossible, my envy of the power in his body is piqued. Strength also goes some way to improving my stamina, I remembered. Dexterity helped with that, too, and would give me more useful stabilising muscles ¡ª or fast twitch fibres ¡ª that might give me an edge while facing slower enemies and allow me to hold back on constantly firing off Skills. The echoes of combat had calmed beneath and above us, though we still heard cries and panicked shouts, people searching for loved ones, or else grieving the lost. . . . Lying there, I felt entirely spent. Imagining more of these conflicts in future, of multiple drawn-out battles all over a city, I felt that reserving Skills would become paramount. The Constitution Stat was up next. This was, as I understood it, my ability to withstand pain and extreme conditions, and perhaps even the durability of my own body. Against the Chrioptera minions, my Linothorax had held up beautifully, but when facing higher level fiends, my previous suit of armour, functionally identical to this one, had been torn to shreds. Mind was my last concern. The thought of suddenly making myself cleverer was so appealing, but every time I thought about it, I could only bring concrete images of how to use it back in my old life, like compiling spreadsheets faster, or spotting diary inconsistencies, or something else mundane. Perhaps with enough, I wouldn¡¯t have to use [Battle Tactics] at all, but I had no idea how far off that was. At length, I decided to put aside my fears for my own body and focus on my DPS. SYS, Level me up, I¡¯m choosing Strength. . . . Hold on, maybe if I was cleverer I¡¯d choose ¡ª This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 9. Your Strength Stat is now 13. You have 19 XP remaining and need 130 total for the next Level. // Oops. Ah well. Bzz. Lenya wobbled over to us. ¡°I wish I could help,¡± she muttered, knelt beside me, looking over our beaten bodies. ¡°You¡¯re doing . . . really well,¡± I reassured her without thinking, pulling myself wincing up again with a sharp inhale of breath. ¡°Is it great exertion, to use your magic?¡± She moved her limbs heavily and drew her staff to her. Her knuckles were white over the polished black pine. ¡°Yes,¡± she said simply. I noticed her bright grey eyes were streaked with red veins, and there was a smudge of red blood beneath one nostril that she had wiped away. ¡°I appreciate it,¡± I said sincerely. ¡°Thanks for the assist. How did you know it was still focused on me?¡± Lenya reached out a little hand and a tiny ball of light appeared at one of her fingertips, and she played with it, moving it around in her hand. ¡°That¡¯s another gift my mother bestowed.¡± She talked sadly, the light radiating warm colour over her curved features. ¡°Through long hours of intense study of mystical probability and reading expressions that most consider imperceptible or hidden, we in the Fey Plains have developed the ability of foresight, though it comes at some great difficulty and with quite a lot of imprecision.¡± Must be talking about her [Mysticism] Skill. SYS? BUZZ. PLEASE. It seems Lenya¡¯s not aware of the existence of Skills. I understand most don¡¯t have access to other people¡¯s Stats and so on, like I do, but do other Systems not even talk about it in those terms? // SYS : All who choose to pass through a World Gate are granted the same audience you had when you first left Earth ¡ª at least, to my knowledge. Give me a moment. // There was a little quiet while the blue eye shivered. Small lines moved across it like splash ripples over a pool. Then it returned to inhuman stillness again. // SYS : After conferring with other Barbican Systems, my best guess is that Lenya¡¯s people have been visited by a rogue faction amongst our kind. In the liminal space between Worlds, we give those we choose a set of useful skills and bodily ability ¡ª after interfacing with enough of your kind, we have come to call these Classes. Afterwards, we assign Levels and describe Stats in this way, and separate the Skills as we do, for the ease of Earthlings; we draw on terms from your ubiquitous gaming culture and growing LitRPG scene to make the transition to these worlds easier for you. // It is growing, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m actually really impressed by a bunch of authors on one web novel site in particular. // SYS : Yes, there¡¯s some real talent there. . . . Anyway, this is probably why even Alator¡¯s Level is marked with a question ¡ª we have no way of gauging his unknowable power. As you guessed a while ago, piggybacking on this process gives us sustenance. // Wow. So you¡¯re essentially a parasite. // SYS : Excuse me, a symbiont. // You just made that up. // SYS : Humans cannot resist treading through the New Worlds, and with your meagre forms, inherently flawed personalities and inability to bring your weapons through the World Gates, you would not survive without us. // I¡¯ll choose to ignore those very petty jibes. Anyway, I can¡¯t argue with that. Okay, that¡¯s enough, now, shoo. The little bronze sphere, with its electric blue eye, snapped shut and then with another buzz ¡ª notably quieter than the one made whenever She appears ¡ª it popped out of existence. Or maybe just out of sight? I groaned up to my feet and patted my tunic down of dust and debris. I turned in on myself and reached into the stream of my inner power to find a few glinting points of light there still shining, and the water running with at least some clarity ¡ª the short breather had given me something, at least. ¡°The sharaan¡¯s share of the fighting seems to be over,¡± Alator mumbled, his ear to the ground, closed eyes letting through a slip of dull yellow light. ¡°Sharon?¡± ¡°Long a. You know, the big rusty red sinewy beasts? Eight feet at the shoulder, massive silent paws, a stunning mane of cascading corded fur streaked with yellow? Jaws that chew iron? Blood-curdling roar? They¡¯re . . . the coolest.¡± Must be some kind of monstrous lion from Alator¡¯s home World, I guessed. Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever hear him describe something as cool. I wondered if I¡¯d ever see his home World. ¡°Sure,¡± I shrugged, starting to tie up and secure my now battle-tested Linothorax. ¡°Anyway, you¡¯re right. I imagine the fighters at the arena didn¡¯t do so poorly against these fiends, assuming there wasn¡¯t a vampyri amongst them.¡± ¡°There will only be one,¡± Lenya said. Her head was tucked into her knees, her shoulders shaking, but she made her voice steady. ¡°You heard it. It was here for you, Talbot. And the way it spoke . . . There will only be one.¡± They know me? ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means,¡± I said, truthfully. ¡°We should head down through the tiers and help where we can.¡± Alator nodded. I put out a hand to Lenya on the ground. She looked at it for a long considering moment, then took it and I pulled her to my feet. It was small movements like that which gave me perspective on just how much this New World had affected me. I had experienced sudden increases of strength before ¡ª well, once before, when I first started working out, before I . . . got tired of it. But this was absolutely night and day. Lenya was lithe ¡ª not short, certainly, though quite a bit smaller than Alator and myself ¡ª and I lifted her easily up. She let go of my hand quickly, brushed ash from her robes, and mouthed, ¡°Thank you.¡± C42 : Ith-Korr Scoured While climbing down the thick jungle-gym-like rope ladder between tiers towards the Craftship, we saw beneath us the broad wooden planks of the once-bustling tier in the same disarray as those above. There were spots which stood out as the aftermath of intense fighting, with at least a dozen of the humanoid, bat-like Voracious Chiroptera fiends lying dead. Surrounding them, though, were many other bodies, covered in awful life-stealing wounds. As we walked solemnly through the awful scene, members of the Wardship, all battered and bruised, their thin grey-green armour torn to shreds, were beginning to cordon off areas. ¡°Niraki, at least you three made it out!¡± one of them shouted at us. ¡°Can you walk? Please, through to da main Craftship, we are co-ordinating an assembly.¡± Halfway through the tier, meaning to head to the lowest and see if we could be of any help, we came across Wardship Captain Paresh, organising people into groups, and using his aged, but still grand, physicality to assist in the recovery efforts. He hailed us over as we passed, ¡°Talbot, Alator, Lenya . . . it is a very dark time that you chose to come to Ith-Korr. The Wardship is . . . making safe these streets.¡± His lush green fur was spotted with blood, and a large gash through the chest of his leather made him wince with every movement, but even as he spoke, he was moving the heavy, shattered remains of a merchant¡¯s stall out of the middle of the street. I helped him with the weight. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said, and wiped thick sweat from his forehead. His black eyes, with their points of amber within them, eyed us all up separately, making note of our own wounds and exhaustion. ¡°How are the tiers above? I sent three good men up to the Dwellship, but they have not yet returned to report.¡± I shared a glance with my companions, remembering the dead lay strewn about the courtyard at the vampyri¡¯s feet, and just shook my head. His shoulders dropped just as his heart fell, but his eyes remained steeled. ¡°And the fiends responsible?¡± ¡°Dispatched,¡± Alator spoke up in a low growl. The Wardship Captain gritted his teeth. ¡°It has been a long time since our city has experienced such terror . . . BUT,¡± he barked, ¡°Such is the duty of the Wardship.¡± Alator grasped his shoulder. ¡°You do your people proud, little one.¡± Despite the probably over-the-line moniker, Paresh met his eyes and nodded sharply, his green fur moving about. ¡°There is much to do in the aftermath. Our first priority is this main tier, but if you are willing to help further, head downwards, some might have taken to the jungle ¡ª if so, they are likely waiting for an opportunity to attack again.¡± ¡°None will have scattered,¡± Alator remarked. Paresh¡¯s eyes clouded for a moment, then he shuddered away his quizzical look and said: ¡°Otherwise, you can assist in . . . making safe the dead.¡± I smiled grim reassurance, and we set off towards the next tier. A few moments passed, then he called back to us, ¡°Times like these, natai . . . there¡¯ll be lots of bounties in the coming days. Skelth, that monster who leads the Shadow Prowlers, is going to jump at every chance he gets. There¡¯ll of course be many others as well, as opportunists make their mark.¡± Nodding, I grimaced at the realisation that these opportunists would most likely just be desperate souls taking desperate measures. I¡¯ll have to be very careful about the bounties I take. Then I shook my head and at once felt overwhelmed with unease. I¡¯d killed two men. The orchard-folk in Akhur¡¯shet and the jungle-folk man on the trade road. The unease wasn¡¯t revolved around the fact of their death, or of my actions, but how little it bothered me. I sent out a mental probe. SYS, something has been bothering me for a while. I feel like Barbican is changing me. // SYS : Barbican is changing you. It changes all. Even men like Alator. // You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Yes, I know, of course, but I mean like, more than that. I feel like becoming a Warrior has made me more brash, impatient . . . savage. The little bronze sphere moved from side to side. // SYS : No. We do not have the power to change your personality. Put this down to a natural progression of your character. // Another one of your meta terms to make things easier for Earthlings? . . . But what about the Mind Stat? You said it literally makes people more intelligent. // SYS : While that would change a person somewhat, it is not that straightforward. We just improve the brain¡¯s capability. Think of it like upgrading the RAM on your PC ¡ª it won¡¯t affect your hard drive. To illustrate this, Alator¡¯s Mind is more than six times yours, but does he strike you as a genius? // I suppose not. . . . He certainly never learnt how to play well with others. // SYS : His experience and wisdom have for his whole life been directed towards a very specific set of ¡ª // Skills. // ¡ª foci. // Well, assuming what you say is true, the Warrior class isn¡¯t turning me into an abrupt, violent weirdo. . . . Guess Barbican is just bringing it out of me, after all, I thought, turning my attention away from the orb. Presently, Zhokko, the talent picker from the Arena approached us, brown and white fluff poking from his shoe string tied waistcoat. There was not a mark on him ¡ª not a hair out of place or even a speck of dust. ¡°You seem to have fared all right,¡± I spat. ¡°Why de ire, Mista? Ol¡¯ Zhokko is no fighter; we found a safe place ta hunker down and keep out of de way of dose who should be fighting. . . . Would you rather da citizenry die in place of de wardens? Anyway, have ya considered Zhokko¡¯s offer?¡± I blinked at him as my temperature rose. The bloody gall! I took a heavy step towards him, at my full height my neck was bent to my chest looking down at him. He didn¡¯t squirm; showed no sign of discomfort at all, just kept up with that massive grin on his night-monkey face, and whispered honey: ¡°It¡¯s been said ¡ª yah¡¯ve got some serious fire, Talbot. Better ta put it ta good use making some good copper rather dan slapping around ol¡¯ Zhokko, ya?¡± ¡°Currently in two minds,¡± I grunted through gritted teeth. ¡°My mind¡¯s not made up, but it would be a cold day in hell I throw in with you, Zhokko. People are dead, where¡¯s your respect?¡± He looked up at me with a wry smile, unerring confidence, taking the implied insult with grace and a wave of the hand. ¡°And if great and powerful Hrunja had fell off dat Arena stage, caught herself in a bad way, perhaps her neck broken and splayed out, dead wi¡¯ no glory ¡ª ya had no problem with that, did ya, eh? Look, all Zhokko needs you ta hear is this: tragedy comes and goes, and now more dan ever, Talbot, de crowds need someone ta root for. ¡°War-hero of da Dwellship, I heard! Ya¡¯re going to be well storied, ya know? Many saw yah valiant actions to make safe de poor, wretched misers in the ramshackle courtyard. Even dough t¡¯ree brave men of da Wardship had fallen, ya leapt inta action and slew da beast! Many more dan dat will hear of it in de coming days ¡ª thanks in no small part to Zhokko.¡± He placed a long-fingered hand on his chest, and added, ¡°Yah coming to the dusk bouts will be legendary, naka.¡± I turned and marched away from him. War-hero of the Dwellship bounced around in my mind and, to my shame, left a thin smile. Off the main tier of the city, I remembered the way to the Wardship, where the warden barracks and training grounds were. On the way, we passed through the Guestship and I saw the enormous thinly-cast bronze horn over the Woven Vine tavern ¡ª instantly diverted. The place had fared particularly badly; the small windows had been smashed to pieces and the hinged swinging doors were torn off the hinges and crumpled. Alator clicked his teeth. I followed his gaze and saw movement inside the inn. Without a word, we set off at a sprint towards it. We burst into the room. Fearing the worst, I found what was left in my reserves and pulsed on [Battle Tactics]. One of the Voracious Chiropteras was hunched in the corner of the room, between two stalls, with its back to us. Swiftly and silently, I stepped over the sticky wooden planks and drove my spear through its back, between the shoulder blades. It died quietly, choking on hissing breath and cold blood. // SYS : You gained 11 XP for defeating the Voracious Chiroptera. You now have 30 and need 130 total for the next Level. // Half XP, making this an assist. With apprehension and dread, I threw its body aside and looked into the darkness behind the dead creature. . . . There was nothing but a pile of gnawed-at food. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then a creak as a door was slowly pushed open to the right of me. I span on my heel and readied my spear, bronze point gleaming, to see Brekis emerge with Keza behind him. As soon as they saw us, I saw their held breath relax and their faces settled high relief, then into exhaustion. ¡°Alator, Talbot, Lenya ¡ª good to see you¡¯re safe! What in Barbican has happened?¡± Brekis marched over to us and gave us each a heavy shake. There were scratches all over his arms and one of his eyes was swollen almost shut. ¡°Incursion,¡± I said. ¡°Fiends not of this World.¡± Brekis hesitated a moment, slow understanding settling on his mind. ¡°Niraki. . . . D-did you bring them with you?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said with some confidence. He suspects we are also from another World, or maybe he overheard us. Honestly, I understood the thought; that would likely cross the minds of many others in the coming days. ¡°But it is our responsibility to stop them.¡± ¡°We only had one in here,¡± the inn-keeper continued, kicking the beastly corpse. ¡°Couldn¡¯t do anything to it without weapons, managed to lock ourselves away in the pantry.¡± ¡°Not before giving it a good few whacks, Mista!¡± Keza piped up, brandishing a frying pan with multiple dents in it. ¡°Good work, made for an easy kill,¡± I mumbled, forcing a smile. ¡°The whole of Ith-Korr is like this ¡ª some fared worse, some better ¡ª the wardens are holding assembly in the Craftship, you should head over.¡± They both nodded and skittered away. As Keza passed, she glanced up at me with her big spider monkey blue-white eyes, then jumped up spritely and pecked my cheek with her dark lips. Still no time to loot, I thought. So, blushing lightly and very much enjoying the regular spate of thanks, we moved on and continued to clean up the tier. C43 : Haste and Delay The next two days after the Scouring of Ith-Korr were marked by chaos, exhaustion, and a rising underlying tension. The city was shaken, structurally and socially. Every tier bore awful scars from the World-Eater¡¯s fiends, from the Wardship on the lower levels to the Horizon Arena at the great trees¡¯ peaks. The Dwellship fared the worst, as we¡¯d seen, and the vampyri was responsible for much of that ¡ª I had no idea how well it commanded the rest of the fiends, which seemed pretty mindless, but I assume they were driven towards the Dwellship to cause maximum havoc. By the time the fires were quelled, the streets around the courtyard where the vampyri had made its final stand were nearly unrecognisable; dozens of houses reduced to smoking debris. The Wardship continued to mobilise, undertaking great efforts to bring every able-bodied jungle-folk into the restoration effort, tirelessly clearing the bodies of both fiends and friends alike, and fortifying the tiers against further invasion, where possible. To me, their efforts felt futile against the scale of the damage. It turned out it had been almost three dozen, all told, and only one vampyri. It only needed a couple set down in an area to cause mayhem and massive loss of life. The Arena, as I had guessed, fared best, with many fighters that were there early preparing for the dusk bouts jumping into action as soon as the Voracious Chiroptera fiends had landed. The dead were still being counted, but it exceeded one hundred civilians and at least two dozen wardens. From what I saw of the vampyri, it could probably have torn the vine moorings from the trees above in a matter of minutes, so the fact that it didn¡¯t told me it either had orders not to, or else it preferred a more personal approach. The Craftship had been transformed into a gathering site for displaced families, with the Thriftship setting up tents for temporary shelter. A makeshift hospital had also been set up there. Healers from across Ith-Korr tended to the myriad wounded, patching up those slashed by the fiends¡¯ metallic claws as best they could with herbs and unctions. Crafters set to work repairing the broken planks along the city¡¯s winding streets, and tree surgeons did their best to reinforce the fraying green-glowing vines that held the city¡¯s tiers aloft. Through it all, as Wardship Captain Paresh had foreseen, discontent festered. I learnt of the promises of the Goldship, essentially Ith-Korr¡¯s bank on the lowest tier of the city ¡ª they had established a fund to compensate families and cover the cost of rebuilding, opening themselves up for donations from all over the city. Yet whispers circulated that it was only for show; the promised funds didn¡¯t materialise. It was clear the city¡¯s poorest had suffered most, but as the Wardship focused efforts on the bottom two tiers, tensions boiled over. The end of the first night saw a scuffle between a couple families and a few wardens in the Dwellship turn into an all-out riot. Residents armed themselves with anything they could grab ¡ª clubs, broken planks, the odd dagger ¡ª and surged the streets below, shouting demands ¡ª some reasonable, some utterly incomprehensible. By the second dawn, it was out of the Wardship¡¯s control ¡ª they pushed the swelling crowds back with force and barricaded the entrances to the Dwellship. This stoked the rage, and the riot ebbed and surged like a tide for hours. And as the suns climbed, the shouting and clashes turned bloody. . . . Alator, Lenya and I were kept up to date by Keza and Brekis of the Woven Vine, which had quickly reopened its business, free for the displaced, and were glad to have us around as strange but authoritative presences each night as curses were spat and hatred was barked about. We helped a little in the ways that we could, mostly assisting the Craftship artisans with moving heavy things (with a few shots of [Vigour] whenever I was sure I could get away with it), but after a little while the carpentry and joinery was too meticulous. It turned out to be a wasteful and possibly offensive excursion, but during this time I set out to try to find an enchanter, or even just someone who could price up the loot I had from my kills. In the comfort of the Woven Vine, I set my spoils out on a table: The first dozen people I asked said something noncommittal, or just blinked at me, confused and a little horrified that I had asked when their city had just been macabrely bloodied. Starting to feel rather frustrated, and more than a bit embarrassed, I was giving up when one of the wardens overheard one of these exchanges and explained it to me: ¡°There are no enchanters outside Uruk, Mista Talbot.¡± Dismayed, I gave up. Around noon, we were set up in the Woven Vine, helping with the clean up and fitting new swinging doors onto the doorframe. The inside was lit bright with oil lamps, as the small windows and low ceilings ¡ª both ubiquitous in Ith-Korr ¡ª did not let in enough light for repairs. ¡°We cannot delay,¡± Alator said. My companion had not sat down at all the past two days, constantly pacing and mumbling about haste under his breath. I constantly forced down the urge to agree with him and run out into the jungles to seek prey. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°That was the first incursion,¡± he continued. ¡°The World-Eater has set its sight firmly on Barbican. Likely this wasn¡¯t the only city targeted ¡ª I hope they had better warriors.¡± I just nodded, focusing on my task. He walked over to me and with all the subtlety and gentleness I had come to expect of him, grabbed the scruff of my neck and pulled me in close. ¡°Are you listening? We have to move. This city will either stand on its own, or it will fall to utter ruin.¡± A few yards away, Keza¡¯s eyes dropped. She quickly finished varnishing a table, packed up her tools and left the room up the stairs. ¡°Nicely done, Alator,¡± I remarked. ¡°Saving feelings, now, Talbot? It has been two days since nearly a hundred people were killed by a relatively very small and merciful attack. The next will come as soon as the World-Eater can tear open a new portal ¡ª perhaps a week or two. We will need to be ¡ª¡± ¡°Then better to be here!¡± I cut across him. I pulled away from him and rose to meet his eyes. His bright blue eyes were lit by the flickering lamplight, and my own were fiery. ¡°We don¡¯t know if the World-Eater struck other cities; what we know is that this city is under attack.¡± My companion was gritting his teeth, so I added, trying to appeal to something other than morality, ¡°And there is no better place to learn more.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know anything,¡± Alator agreed spitefully. ¡°How far away is the next city? How many people live there? Is it an easier target to defend? With fewer than three dozen, the World-Eater tore this city almost to the ground.¡± ¡°I ¡ª¡± ¡°Yes, Lenya, I heard you ¡ª you say you can catch us when we fall,¡± he said, turning aside. Lenya had been silent most of the last few days, the incursion taking a harsh toll on her. I heard her in her room both nights wracked by awful dreams, calling for her mother. Loath to discuss it and force her into further weakness, it was clear that her mother, the Queen of the Fey Plains of her home, had a run in with the Albowesti, as she called it, and that her staff was an heirloom. ¡°We can help the people here,¡± she said in a small voice. ¡°We¡¯d help ourselves by not being here,¡± he shot back. ¡°You can¡¯t save everyone. You can¡¯t save anyone whose time has come. Neither of you seem to have fully accepted what we¡¯re up against. Fixing doors!¡± He reached out and tried half-heartedly to tear the hammer and nails from my hand, but I held them firm. ¡°Infuriating!¡± he barked, and left the room, disappearing quickly into the sea of bivouacs. ¡°Ignore him,¡± I said to Lenya, forcing a smile. She squirmed a moment, shooting a glance at her staff by the side of the room ¡ª never further than a few yards from her at any time. ¡°I know Alator only ever speaks the truth,¡± her voice was low and considered, but dripping tired with sadness. ¡°I only wish he weren¡¯t so heartless.¡± I considered their words for a moment, then, feeling the veil that stood between Lenya and I start to shift, start to warm, chose to voice my thoughts: ¡°I¡¯ve known the man less than two weeks, and he has wilfully put me in situations that could well have killed me, and he did so gleefully ¡ª but his savagery is what we need. And I feel his impatience. Lenya. I¡¯m coming up empty handed. What can we do for these people?¡± Lenya¡¯s gaze fell and her face blanched. A couple of times, her red lips parted as if to speak, but words failed her each time. At that moment, as if to answer our plight, a stocky jungle-folk wearing the grey-green of the Wardship stepped out of the crowd towards the Woven Vine. He hailed us both by name. ¡°Masta Talbot of de Flying Spear, Missus Lenya of de Hoary Gold, tiki-rah.¡± That was the moniker Zhokko gave me, guess he¡¯s still hard at work. We both straightened up and I held out a hand for him to shake. He just touched the palm lightly, the way chimps greet each other. ¡°Yah presence is requested at de Wardship,¡± he said simply, then turned on his heel and left. Sharing a glance with each other, we shrugged. I grabbed my Bronze Spear of Blinding, took a few minutes to properly fasten my Linothorax to me, and Lenya set on her golden jewellery and picked up her mother¡¯s staff, and we made over the courtyard, packed with the displaced, and the narrow alleyway between two of the great red trees, to the barracks. The front of the barracks had been reinforced with a spiked, heavy wooden fence, and there were two wardens out front that nodded and moved apart to let us inside. Ducking in, we made our presence known to the bookkeeper in the foyer and waited for a couple of minutes. Wardship Captain Paresh emerged out of a back room. He was dressed in armour suited for warfare, blazoned with the Wardship¡¯s badge, and wore a bronze sword at his hip. Feeling a little out of practice, and out of curiosity, I touched the Analysis Card in my pouch.
Name : Paresh, Wardship Captain, Level 16
Stats : Str 12, Dex 15, Con 9, Mnd 5
Skills : Battle Tactics Lvl 2 (Lvl 3)
Inventory : Bronze Sword, Bronze Whistle, Mibege Flask, 23 Copper Coins
Weakness : Reluctant to kill
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
Impressive Stats, and . . . the upgrade! The only thing I can think is . . . I sent out a probe. SYS, am I seeing his . . . potential? // SYS : So it would seem. I do not know how this is determined, but it seems the upgrade to the Analysis Card is now giving you an approximation of the highest possible Skill Level they might achieve. // This keeps getting better, I thought to Her. After a moment, I added, That¡¯ll take care of the recruiting problem! ¡°Mista Talbot, Missus Lenya, apologies for summoning you. Thank you for coming so quickly,¡± Paresh said. His voice was slow and tortured, his face drawn, eyes set deep. ¡°We have a situation on our hands. A very important, sensitive and . . . lucrative bounty.¡± C44 : Bounty Hunting II ¡°Give me one moment,¡± Wardship Captain Paresh said, holding up a hand. He stepped back a few paces to the desk to talk shop with the bookkeeper, and I took the time to glance at Lenya with the Analysis Card.
Name : Lenya of the Hoary Gold, Level 15
Stats : Str 4, Dex 8, Con 6, Mnd 17
Skills : Elementalism Lvl 3 (Lvl 10) Herbalism Lvl 1 (Lvl 4) Influence Lvl 2 (Lvl 4) Mysticism Lvl 4 (Lvl 10) Survivalism Lvl 0 (Lvl 2)
Special : Balance Power
Inventory : Ritual Staff, Golden Talisman
Weakness : Fearful of tight spaces
Home : Fey Fields, Aricae?th
Lenya! That seems massive ¡ª the potential to max out two Skills, including spellcasting and, in my understanding, some kind of prophecy-making ability. Though the consideration that off-worlders might all have similar projected Skills to these popped into my mind. I didn¡¯t have time to think on it more, so put the knowledge in my back pocket for now. My already broken cheat item had become even more useful. I also noticed she¡¯d levelled up. Since she doesn¡¯t know what Skills are, or doesn¡¯t understand it in videogame LitRPG terms, I¡¯m guessing her SYS hasn¡¯t told her about Levels . . . or Stats, either. I couldn¡¯t remember specifically her Stats, but it seemed to me they were unchanged between levelling. Looks like her SYS improves her Stats differently to mine, perhaps just allocates points where they make sense ¡ª assuming a lifetime of research, with little fighting, her high Mind makes sense. Paresh turned to us with a sheet of parchment showing a detailed sketch of a man. ¡°This is the Ripper, Yariq Sahl, a Zoraki, in our tongue ¡ª Ishkali, desert-folk. He¡¯s an exile known for extreme cruelty and ruthlessness in his pursuit of fortune and power. The Wardship captured him two weeks ago and we were in a long process of deciding what to do with him; no fewer than three cities have demanded he be released to them for justice for crimes of murder, torture and mutilation of corpses. That was, until yesterday when all of this provided the perfect cover for his breakout. We do not know how, but it is presumed he had help from outside, and you¡¯ll be unsurprised to hear that, if that is the case, it is probably the work of the Shadow Prowlers.¡± I studied his sketched face. Long, curly dark hair, the deep blue skin of the desert-folk, thin, wide eyes and a thin, straight nose. He had pale, symmetrical, jagged, zig-zagging tattoos stretching to the bottoms of his ears from each corner of his mouth, like the rise and fall of the blue dunes of the Breathing Sands. ¡°If you managed to catch him the first time, why has the Wardship now posted a bounty?¡± Lenya asked from beside me. She was brought up to her full straight-backed height, all regal like. The golden earrings glinted in the lamplight and the tear-shaped chalcedony gem hanging from the gold band on her forehead shifted as she jutted her chin out. ¡°It was not without a fight,¡± Paresh explained simply. ¡°We lost two very good wardens, Thalri and Estra, the last time we managed it. We are sure he has not yet left the city, but with the chaos of the Scouring, we are spread thin, and many wardens are still receiving care at the Horizon Arena. And so, reluctantly but with open arms, we turn to you. His bounty, alive, is sixty copper. Forty dead.¡± That makes sense, I thought. ¡°How can you be sure he has not absconded?¡± Lenya asked. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Paresh scratched the back of his neck with a long, leathery finger, beneath his leather cowl. ¡°An informant has confirmed he is hunkered down in a half-ruined house in the Dwellship, that he¡¯s been spotted there multiple times, perhaps hoping to flee once the dust settles.¡± Sharing a glance with Lenya, who half-smiled through her veneer, I nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll take it.¡± ¡°Do we have competition?¡± she asked. ¡°You are the first we have brought this to. There are bounty hunters in this city, but they are known to the denizens of the Dwellship and we are on . . . less than stellar grounds these days. We have decided to rely on newcomers to the city, and none fill the bill better than you three ¡ª or two.¡± He then disappeared through the back door again. When he returned, he had in tow a small, wiry jungle-folk with tawny fur and wide green eyes, wearing a dark grey linen tunic, tied tight about her very small waist, and a brown cloak over her shoulders. ¡°This is Fara, she will lead you to the barricade before the rise to the Dwellship.¡± The little jungle-folk inclined her head and nodded sharply, green eyes sparkling but serious. ¡°I¡¯ll take you most of the way and point it out to you, but I don¡¯t want to be spotted with you, if that¡¯s okay. If word gets out that you¡¯re with the wardens, I . . .¡± ¡°I take it you¡¯re the informant?¡± I asked. She shifted her weight with more than a little guilt. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll be fine.¡± Fara exhaled heavily and clapped her hands together, ¡°Then follow me!¡± We passed through the Wardship and Guestship and climbed up the now warden-protected ladder that led to the Craftship and the other businesses. Fara moved quick on her feet and despite our difference in size kept up ahead of us easily, her tail swishing beneath her tunic. As we went, I kept an eye out for Alator¡¯s fiery red hair, but saw no sign. ¡°Talbot, it might be good to give him some time,¡± Lenya came to my side, seeing me glance around for the umpteenth time. ¡°In all honesty, I don¡¯t believe Alator is cut out for this type of work.¡± She was right, of course ¡ª that 17 Mind Stat working its magic ¡ª at the first sight of danger, Alator would have leapt into full kill mode. Repairs were still ongoing everywhere, with many jungle-folk (and others) waiting around or trying to entertain themselves with games, or covered in mourning shrouds. The people of Ith-Korr had a peculiar rite for the dead, known as gate-keeping, where one person of the deceased¡¯s family volunteered to remain at their side in vigil. Even in the short half-hour or so we walked, we passed dozens of covered biers by the sides of the streets, and a little jungle-folk solemnly stood beside each of them. Whenever we passed one, I couldn¡¯t help inclining my head to them and bunching up my chin in a hopefully sympathetic movement that had become very practised over the past two days. When we were in sight of the rise, the open portal that led up to the rubbish tier and further to the Dwellship, Fara stopped us both with raised hands. She quickly explained the position of the house on the Dwellship as best she could using landmarks and vague descriptions of the lay of the land and the trunks of the trees. ¡°If you find Yariq Sahl, try at first to command him to follow. If that fails,¡± she produced a thin vine-woven rope, ¡°Tie him up. He is not loved by the people here, but as Wardship Captain Paresh intimated, it¡¯ll be best to try to avoid any confusion.¡± ¡°Strangers entering a home and tying up its denizen, to then parade him through the streets. . . . No, I don¡¯t think they¡¯ll take too kindly,¡± I sighed, considering the right way. Fara nodded glumly, then turned on her heels and headed back. The rope ladder ¡ª or rise ¡ª to the Dwellship had been reinforced and barricaded. A mass of wooden spikes, similar to that protecting the Wardship barracks, were manned by two heavily-armoured wardens bearing glinting short spears. ¡°Talbot of the Flying Spear!¡± one of them said. I raised a hand. ¡°We¡¯ve warden business up top, Wardship Captain Paresh has granted us passage.¡± The wardens nodded and together moved a heavy beam, then lifted out of place a broad wooden plank that acted as a sort of hingeless door, and bade us through, before closing it behind us again. ¡°Shout from there on your return.¡± Heart in my throat, I climbed the ladder to the Dwellship for the first time since the Scouring. The air felt electric as we moved over the threshold and stood on the residential tier. The streets ¡ª mostly narrow alleys lined with ragged, makeshift homes of patchworked wood, vine and cloth ¡ª all bore scars from the incursion and the chaos that followed. Some were little more than splintered rubble, and many others were leaning precariously on one another, visibly bulging, threatening to buckle under twisted beams and blackened scorch marks. We made off following Fara¡¯s instructions, stepping lightly in a vague attempt to avoid drawing too much attention. There were pockets of people around, huddled together, makeshift weapons on show. Even the children had the gaunt look of survival etched onto their faces. At every few doors, monkey faces poked out and watched us with hard expressions, daring us to prove that we didn¡¯t belong there. ¡°No wonder tensions boiled over,¡± I whispered to the elf princess. ¡°The people here had nothing even before all this.¡± Lenya nodded, and hugged her staff to her. The people of the Dwellship were not only resentful, they were on edge. Young men with flinty eyes sparking around presented a readiness to fight, and for a few streets at each point, we were tailed by one opportunistic group or another, before they decided against it, and left us be. A few cautious steps through narrow alleyways, ropey vines overhead, watchful eyes always on us, we saw the house Fara described ¡ª a half collapsed shelter, barely standing; roof askew and walls thick with grime and decay, given up on well before the Scouring. A hushed chatter picked up around us then died down as our arrival drew attention. Suddenly, in a practiced motion but not entirely in sync, ten or so Vyneshi slinked from the shadows or dropped down from the slack vines above us. Each of them bore a weapon ¡ª dagger, club or nail bat ¡ª and they set out at a wide semi-circle in front of the dilapidated house. C45 : Yariq Sahl the Ripper Near a dozen jungle-folk denizens of the Dwellship surrounded us, at about ten paces, standing between us and the dilapidated house where, ostensibly, the villainous Yariq Sahl was holed up. I lowered my Bronze Spear of Blinding to my side and raised a hand in greeting, doing everything I could to indicate peacefulness. I had decided on this course of action for a few reasons: one, to prove Alator and his way of life wrong; two, to avoid unnecessary loss of life; and three, to try to put Lenya at ease, who had made the whole way shirking glances and almost pressed up against me ¡ª unless she was the instigator (and that was rare), she seemed to have a great aversion to violence. I cleared my throat: ¡°We have business with Yariq Sahl, the Ripper, who is guilty of murder and torture. We are here to bring him swiftly to justice. We will do no harm to the Dwellship.¡± ¡°No further harm, you mean, wukka,¡± came a spitting call from the young man who stood in the centre of the half-ring. He did not bear a weapon but had his fists clenched, and stood blocking the entrance to the ruin. His body twitched with energy, but he was clearly waiting for us to make the first move. Determined to not give him what he wanted, I shouted into the darkness: ¡°Yariq Sahl, come out slowly, unarmed, with your hands behind your head.¡± Other people were quickly coming to inspect the suspicious assembly, hanging from the vines above our heads or squatting in the shadows, watching with big, round, hungry eyes. I peered over the jungle-folk¡¯s heads into the pitch black, and put my finger to the Analysis Card. From the black depths, as had happened with the bandits on the trade route, a box popped up ¡ª despite my not being able to see, he was technically within my line of sight, as was another thing.
Name : Yariq Sahl the Ripper, Level 13
Stats : Str 12, Dex 16, Con 6, Mnd 4
Skills : Beast Mastery Lvl 1 (Lvl 6) Survivalism Lvl 2 (Lvl 3) Vigour Lvl 1 (Lvl 1)
Special : Mutilating Strike
Inventory : 11 Copper Coins
Weakness : Over reliant on shadows
Home : Breathing Sands, Barbican
Fiend : Lapis Urocyon, Level 4
Stats : Str 8, Dex 11, Con 6, Mnd 2
Attacks : Razor Bite, Sand Sprint
Loot : Fine Fang, Lapis Pelt
Weakness : Unused to pain
XP : 36
I hadn¡¯t thought of it during the heat of the Scouring, but it seemed the improvement to the Analysis Card gave me nothing extra when appraising fiends. . . . Ah well. As I stared, I saw a pair of glinting blue eyes peering back at me, as if they produced their own points of light. Stolen story; please report. He has a pet . . . wolf? That¡¯s so cool. And then my eyes caught a subtle movement in the darkness of the collapsed building, and another box popped up for a moment before disappearing. Luckily, I was getting very good at picking out the useful parts and searing them into my mind at just a glance.
Name : Gobblebobble the Sand-Striker, Level 9
Stats : Str 10, Dex 11, Con 10, Mnd 5
Skills : Survivalism Lvl 4 (Lvl 4) Weapon Mastery Lvl 1 (Lvl 2)
Special : Desert Blitz
Inventory : 11 Copper Coins
Weakness : Clumsy in humiliation
Home : Breathing Sands, Barbican
Go¡¯leb from the Horizon Arena! I squared my shoulders and filled my chest, and shouted out: ¡°Come out, both of you. And keep your beast to heel.¡± There was a ripple of energy about most of those around me. Lenya came in close and whispered: ¡°I feel mostly confusion, but some unease ¡ª I can¡¯t see anything in the house, and my eyes are something of a pride of mine. Yours must be very keen.¡± I¡¯d considered for a while telling Alator and Lenya about the specifics of the Analysis Card, but have so far decided that it is not worth the hassle, and that paranoid ¡ª perhaps childish ¡ª fear of losing it still played on the back of my mind. ¡°Along with the bounty, there is one other that I fought against at the Horizon Arena, you¡¯ll remember Go¡¯leb of the Desert Blitz, the one I got in the shoulder at the end of the bout.¡± Lenya flinched for a second at the memory of the violence but then nodded and her eyes remained steeled. ¡°And it seems Yariq has some kind of desert wolf at his side.¡± ¡°Wolf?¡± ¡°Yeah, a Lapis Urocyon, specifically.¡± ¡°Oh, so a fox.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Raising her staff as a reflex, I felt a very subtle catch of wind, sweet like a spring breeze, draw in around her, but there was no other sign of magic. She readied herself. Another few moments passed, and the young monkey-man at the centre of the group looked over his shoulder, unsure. A quick whispered call came from inside in the Vyneshi language, but even from my short time in the city I could tell it was not a native speaker; harshly accented. The young man disappeared into the dark for a moment, some more mumbled sotto voce words came, then they all stepped out into the light. Yariq was exactly as he had been drawn; dark blue skin and severe pinched black eyes peered out through the light linen wrappings that many of the desert-folk wore. They were pulled up over his nose so I couldn¡¯t see the dune tattoos on his face. Beside him, head almost to his waist, padded forwards a fox ¡ª not a wolf, but as large as any wolf on Earth. It had very faint and thin grey-blue fur, and white frosted tips rippled over its body as it moved. It had large ears, ever twitching, almost the full size of its head, like a desert fox, and big round white eyes, without pupils. Each paw was lined with half a dozen short but thick claws, and a long thick blue tail moved like a snake behind it. Gobblebobble, or Go¡¯leb, stepped out after them over broken beams and scorched rubble with his steady, desert-trained feet. He was already seething, glaring right at me, his face rushing almost purple. He held the same Iron Mace as before in his good arm ¡ª the other was hidden under his robe, likely held with good thick gauze to help with the wound I¡¯d inflicted to his shoulder. Yariq put up his hand to shield his face from the light, even though in the mid-afternoon the suns had not quite yet dipped below the ceiling. He put a peculiarly gentle hand on the shoulder of the jungle-folk that had stood directly between us and the house ¡ª with the Analysis Card I found he was a fairly normal man called Vaan ¡ª and moved him aside, pacing to within a few yards of me. Yariq was unarmed (save for the massive fox beside him), but his hands were behind his back. His eyes were steely and his voice was guarded, and from behind the wrappings, a melodic accent played, with heavy breathy emphasis on consonants: ¡°I am Yariq Sahl. To whom do I speak?¡± I stood straight, fighting a rising tension. ¡°My name is Talbot. We have declared our intention; we are to bring you back with us.¡± Yariq stretched his arms up and I heard his back crack, then he gestured around. ¡°I t¡¯ink I would rather not.¡± His massive blue fox beside him raised its hackles and growled. Turns out you can fight unearthly demonic beasts all you like, but being faced down by a predator still gives you pause. I lifted my spear and put the butt to the ground, sounding against the wooden planks at our feet. ¡°Yariq Sahl, you are wanted for murder, torture, escaping from lawful custody, and evading arrest.¡± Happy I watched all those police shows. ¡°If you do not come willingly, we will use force.¡± A murmur crossed the circle like a wave, all glancing forwards to see Yariq¡¯s reaction. He clicked his teeth and his fox moved forwards. I levelled the Bronze Spear of Blinding at it and widened my stance. At the same time, the ripple of energy from the group came to a head, and one shouted: ¡°Get out of here, wukkah niraki!¡± ¡°Leave the Dwellship to its own business ¡ª you¡¯ve done enough!¡± came another shout. Thin lips were drawn over savage ape teeth. Half a dozen of them brandished makeshift weapons and also took a step towards us. I gritted my teeth and held up my free hand to them. ¡°No need for anyone else to get involved,¡± I said, a growing unease taking me. I hoped at each point that my voice wouldn¡¯t break. ¡°T¡¯ere need be no fight. Does your cause justify risking your life ¡ª or t¡¯eirs?¡± Yariq spoke directly to me, and gestured at the denizens. ¡°Not the way I want to play it, but you¡¯re giving us little choice. It¡¯s either the easy way with us, or the Wardship comes up again, full force.¡± The jungle-folk bristled. Idiot. Probably best not to mention the wardens again. . . . Yariq raised his arms and clapped above his head. ¡°Just leave, say you did not find me, that I have disappeared into the winds again.¡± I lowered my head and looked out under a furrowed brow. ¡°Not happening.¡± The half-dozen jungle-folk of the Dwellship, dressed in tattered linens dirty from the chaos, some peppered with wounds from clashes with the wardens, encroached. ¡°Perhaps I am not making myself clear,¡± Variq called over their heads. ¡°I am not going with you. I have much to accomplish here.¡± Then he addressed the crowd, ¡°Force t¡¯em out. Tails between t¡¯eir legs.¡± The heat rose, the suns dipped below the ceiling of the tier; shining bright white and red light crept over the floor planks. As it reached him, Yariq bristled and stepped backwards a few paces into shadow. My frame vibrated, blood pumping, my grip on the spear tightened and I dipped into the inner stream of power within me to find the water running pure and clear and the points of light, representing my ever-improving Skills, glinting welcomingly. As the jungle-folk closed the distance, I was brought back to the scene at Akhur¡¯shet; desperate souls giving in to cruel authority. There was no good outcome. I was learning the harsh truths of Barbican, one step at a time. Just try not to kill everyone. C46 : Brawl in the Dwellship Yariq Sahl the Ripper grinned beneath his linen wrappings, the mere slits of his eyes fixed cruel daggers on me. He must have felt the tension in the air, the oncoming fight, one that surely would have meant tragedy regardless. If Lenya and I were killed, the Wardship would redouble their efforts; of course, we were playing the role of bounty hunters, but dead outsiders, particularly ones that had faced the World-Eater demons heroically, would not be easily missed. The other option is a lot of innocent wounded or dead, and his capture. But still he watched on amused. His fox, or whatever twisted desert beast it was, shifting backwards with him, hackles still raised, jaws parted to reveal sharpened teeth. Its white eyes glowed in the darkness, its lips wet. Yariq ruffled the thin blue fur between its massive ears and whispered something in his mother tongue ¡ª no doubt reassuring it that feeding time was coming. Go¡¯leb stood on the blackened rubble of the building, still silent, bearing his Iron Mace easily in his hand. His precise expression was quite inscrutable, but I felt he was simply awaiting a chance to have at me. My senses were alight. Lenya fell back and drew her staff close to her, but raised a hand. The surge of magic picked up, presenting as a soft breeze which picked up and drew dust and debris past my feet towards her. The battered jungle-folk gathered in a loose semicircle around us, makeshift weapons in their hands trembling. I moved fully into a stance that I imagined was defensive, spear crossing my body, ready to lash out. I watched their expressions and the movements of their feet. A young jungle-folk with dark fur, bearing a club, made the first move. With a yell, he leapt out with practised, powerful legs. As soon as he was within a spear¡¯s breadth, I answered. [Vigour] pulsed, almost as a reflex, and my thighs ROCKETED me forwards almost to his chest. His eyes went wide and he tried to bring the club down, but I wrenched my spear through the air and smacked the side of his head with the full force of the thick haft. He sprawled away, landing sliding on the wooden planks, knocked dazed out cold. This gave the rest of them a moment¡¯s pause, and they shared glances, but a call came from behind them: ¡°T¡¯is is no duel. You fight for t¡¯e freedom of your Dwellship. Kill him!¡± Fully hyped, the remaining five broke into action. Full bore at me, they came on at once, bringing weapons out in front and aiming savage, wild blows. I brought myself back a yard and flashed on [Weapon Mastery], the spearhead met the only true weapon, a glinting dagger, and bashed it out of a wielder¡¯s hand. The now unarmed woman glanced down and had to move aside to pick it up. In the moment, four others advanced instantly. I felt Lenya close behind me, still backing up but not fast enough, so I stood ground. With a savage lick of my spear, I cut open one of their calves. The jungle-folk man screamed, but didn¡¯t relent the attack. I spun my waist around, brought my spear up along my arm, and presented my shoulder. THUDDING blows landed on shoulder and hip. These were untrained jungle-folk, certainly no Classes amongst them, probably no Skills ¡ª though I hadn¡¯t taken the time to fully expect them ¡ª but even through my Constitution, a full-throated blow from anyone is a shock. Allowing myself only a moment to feel, the agony pulsed through as I felt the Linothorax quiver with the attacks. I then steeled myself to the pain and brought [Battle Tactics] forwards. By instinct, the Skill coursing through me, instead of backing up, I launched myself at the nearest, bashing shoulder into chest, sending him back and almost toppled over. The three others readied another blow, but I whipped my weapon around, hand halfway up the haft, and brandished the long, cypress-shaped bronze spearhead, having them fall back a moment. That was all I gave them, and rushed forwards again. Two were closely huddled, another had stepped away another direction. I spun my spear as I went, caught it with both hands, and JABBED at the jungle-folk man¡¯s face. The heavy wood hit him in the nose with a wet crunch, and he fell spluttering, weapon forgotten beside him, fingers clutching his face. Turning my back on him, I faced the rest: the last two were joined by the man I¡¯d thrown backwards. The woman wielding the dagger recovered and took their side. I moved my spear in front, the point reaching a three-inch from their chests as I circled. I felt the rush of [Vigour] leave, but [Battle Tactics] remained for another few moments, and each time I saw a muscle flinch or ready, I jabbed in their direction. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! ¡°[Command : Kneel].¡± A stern, barked, royal voice came from behind me as a rush of arcane energy spilled out and blurred the dust over my shoulder. The dagger wielder¡¯s face screwed up with effort, her eyes almost closed, and then dropped to her knees. The weapon was dropped forgotten at her side as she brought her hands up to hold each side of her head. I remembered when Lenya had cast that on me when she¡¯d met me, but I didn¡¯t spare a moment¡¯s sympathy. So there were three: two fresh, one limping, a gash on their exposed, furry calf dripping red. I took the confusion as opportunity to reach the Analysis Card in my pouch.
Name : Vaan, Level 3
Stats : Str 5, Dex 9, Con 8, Mnd 4
Inventory : 3 Copper Coins (Ishkali)
Weakness : Panics when disarmed
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
Name : Keska, Level 2
Stats : Str 4, Dex 6, Con 9, Mnd 3
Weakness : Fearful of the supernatural
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
Name : Haru, Level 2
Stats : Str 5, Dex 8, Con 6, Mnd 5
Weakness : Hesitates when injured
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
As I thought. These are civilians. No Skills, barely anything in their pockets. Desperate. Proud of how it was going, I twirled my spear and shouted out: ¡°No one has to die. Put your weapons down and leave Yariq to us. You have no loyalty to this criminal.¡± There was a ripple of thought, but ultimately it fell on deaf ears. No reasoning with them. ¡°Lenya,¡± I hissed through gritted teeth over my shoulder, loud enough that Keska could hear. ¡°The one in the middle ¡ª burn her mind.¡± Glancing back, I saw a moment¡¯s shock on her face, then meeting my eye, she gleaned the situation. Her staff raised, the flow of magic picked up, and she pointed two fingers at Keska. The jungle-folk¡¯s face blanched and she fell back a pace, eyes wide. Dropping low, I pumped another [Vigour] through my muscles and felt them tense and turn iron. Pushing myself off with massive force, I brought myself level with Vaan, passing Haru, whose weight shifted back on his bad leg, wincing. My hand shot out and I got a hard grip on the club that Vaan wielded, and just before he could react, I smashed the pole of my spear into the side of his neck, pulling back the blow slightly. He flinched and fell back, the club loosed from his grip. I tossed it backwards and it thudded and clattered on the wood. Unarmed, reeling from the pain, Vaan¡¯s form tightened up. This ends now. I reached into the stream in my mind¡¯s eye, and grasped [Weapon Mastery] again. Spinning to the side, I double handed the haft of my spear again and jabbed out with brutal accuracy at Haru. The butt of the spear caught his sternum with a CRACK and he was thrown backwards to lie in the dust, lungs smashed empty, breath caught in his throat. // SYS : Your use of [Weapon Mastery] has upgraded the Skill to Level 2. You can now utilise [Weapon Mastery : Precision Strike]. // I glanced up to see Go¡¯leb drawing forwards, testing the weight of the mace in his hands. Can test the new Skill on you! Back to the action, I glanced over the rest of the combatants, beaten and bloodied. Only Vaan was still standing, still holding his neck from the hit, looking around for a weapon on the ground. ¡°Just leave, Vann. Take the money he gave you and go. He won¡¯t be able to follow.¡± He blinked at me, mouthing the words, ¡°How do you know. . . .¡± But then he looked up at Yariq, scrunched up his face somewhere between shame and determination, turned heel, and set off at a run. At this, Yariq the Ripper shot an order at him to stay, but he kept going. Before Vaan had made it twenty paces, Yariq stamped his heel and said something under his breath in his mother tongue. The Lapis Urocryon at his side barked and growled. The beast¡¯s fur rippled as a mound of muscle tensed and set off at lightning speed after his heels, jaw wide, teeth dripping, eyes fiery with hunger and savagery. C47 : Go’leb the Sand-Striker ¡°Call it off! It¡¯s over, Yariq!¡± I roared over the pumping of blood in my ears, but Yariq¡¯s eyes were hateful, set on Vaan¡¯s escape. Making the first few broad steps of a javelin thrower, I levelled my spear to my shoulder, eyes flicking between Yariq and the fox. Yariq saw my movement, but then looked back to Vaan. My mind could not help but jump between thinking of this giant, beastly fox as a pet or an equal enemy, but the burning action in my heart told me it was the latter. The demon fox was at Vaan¡¯s heels. Vaan yelped and cried out, sprinting as fast as he could go. Widening my eyes, letting in all the light I could from the white and red suns, I made the last bounding movement, at the same time reaching into my stream of inner power. I found the glinting lights a little dim, but still clear, even after all my exertion, and the stream still flowed. The fiend was thirty yards away, and moving fast. Shocking both [Vigour] and [Weapon Mastery] through my body, I threw my arm forwards and let loose the spear, then set off at a sprint towards the beast. It flew lightning fast, and met its mark broadside. The impact threw the fox off its feet, ending the chase. Vaan disappeared around a corner. Sprawled on its side, the spear lodged beneath its spine, it struggled and failed to right itself. In a few moments I was on it. I drew the spear out, the Skills still sparking my thews, and plunged it down again deeper, an twisted, stopping its heart. ¡°¡°Brilliant beast.¡± Looking back up to Yariq, feeling fury lick my words, I spat at him, ¡°That didn¡¯t need to happen.¡± Yariq was slack jawed, then absolute madness took him. He screamed and launched himself forwards out of the shadow of the blackened ruin, near shutting his eyes against the light of the suns. But quick as a flash, Go¡¯leb the Sand-Striker got to him, grabbed the hem of his wrappings and held him still. Yariq wrestled against the hand, trying to free himself, but Go¡¯leb¡¯s grip was firm, and after a short time he relented and calmed himself. Then Go¡¯leb stepped in front of him and raised his Iron Mace to me. ¡°You and I have a debt to settle.¡± Breathing heavily, I turned back to face him, and yanked the spear free from the fiend at my feet. I raised a hand. ACTION screamed through my veins. In another mood, I may have reasoned with him ¡ª it happened in the Horizon Arena, it was a sporting match, there was no bad blood, et cetera, et cetera. But how I was, none of that came to mind. I began to pace slowly towards him in an arc, moving fully to be silhouetted by the sunslight at my back. I remembered his Weakness, Clumsy in humiliation, and shamelessly pushed his buttons. ¡°Gobblebobble, was it? Can barely remember you. How¡¯s your shoulder? What an embarrassing end to your Arena career. Bet it itches something fierce.¡± His dark blue skin went purple, his brow furrowed into rage, and he shouted wordlessly, and set off at me at a sprint. The same as I¡¯d done to Hrunja, I brought my spear back and raised one hand, beckoning. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, his legs pumping effort beneath him. He was fresh and my arms were starting to feel leaden. The impacts of the clubs on my shoulder and hip throbbed ¡ª I knew ugly dark bruises were forming beneath the Linothorax, but I bounced on my toes and felt my face split into that cruel berserker grin, then lashed out with my spear. Ducking low, the spear sailed over his head and with another leap he brought his body right up to mine. Luckily, the goading worked its magic. His left hand brought the mace across, the heavy head screaming through the air, but it was a wild swing. With a twist and a slight bend of my torso, it sailed an inch clear of my ribs. The rush of air from it was enough to make me flinch and fall back, though. A rise of fight or flight pricked my spine and I felt a sudden and horrific urge to tear into him with my teeth. Trying to push that down, I remembered with a sinking feeling that he matched my level, and from what I could recall, all his Stats save Strength were higher than mine. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. That¡¯ll be what I rely on then ¡ª blocks, not evasion. And Go¡¯leb pressed on, stepping forwards again into my space with frightening speed. The humiliation was clearly fading from him, as he easily dodged a wild, panicked strike and jabbed the mace like a sword into my side. I tried to get out of the way of it but the broad, heavy head bashed into my side as I turned. The impact made my eyes water and I grunted pain, feeling organs lurch and the bones bend. Not letting up, he then brought the heavy mace back to land an overhead blow. Wrenching my spear upwards, I braced with both hands half-yard apart on the haft. The Iron Mace SMASHED down onto the spear, sending a shocking reverberation through my arms and turning my legs to jelly for a moment. My body buckled and I fell to one knee. He brought the mace back again. I was vaguely aware of Lenya running up to me, but she wouldn¡¯t get here in time ¡ª she couldn¡¯t do anything even if she was able to. Gritting my teeth, I resigned myself to death or death dealing. [Vigour] exploded through me. The effect of my Skills was weakening, but still my arms shot back up again and the pole of my spear met the weight of his mace before it fully had momentum. Bouncing off the wood, his balance was thrown off and he staggered backwards. Then, without consideration, I brought my spear back, bronze head glinting, and thrust forwards, reaching for the new Skill I had just gained, [Weapon Mastery : Precision]. My whole arm tightened, and some tendon along my bicep creaked and strained almost to breaking, and almost unbidden changed the trajectory of the attack. The spearhead went clean through Go¡¯leb¡¯s left eye. Near the full length of the blade followed, before the point jarred and stopped at the back of his skull, fricting my arm. My stomach turned as his arms dropped, his shoulders fell limp, and his body convulsed. Go¡¯leb the Sand-Striker fell horribly to the floor, crumpling on top of himself, his life breath blown away in an instant. Turning away, mostly in disgust, but also vaguely still aware that our cause here was to bring a criminal to justice, my eyes found Yariq, still standing fists clenched in anger, but eyes wide now, watching the scene. Panting like a rabid dog, I pulled my spear back out of the gore and stepped over Go¡¯leb¡¯s body, marched over to Yariq, pumped [Vigour], and threw a punch at his jaw. His very high Dexterity meant nothing with his mind so scrambled, and the impact threw him over to the floor, knocked cold. Movement behind me. I span and brought my spear up close, before my gaze settled on Lenya¡¯s small form, eyes closed flinching, hugging her staff. I stood at ease. ¡°Sorry. Didn¡¯t go how I wanted it to.¡± She opened her bright grey eyes and a smile came to her lips ¡ª half-forced, perhaps, but warm and reassuring. ¡°You did brilliantly, Talbot. You didn¡¯t kill anyone who didn¡¯t deserve death.¡± I nodded grimly, glancing over at the giant fox and the desert-folk gladiator. Bzz. // SYS : You gained 36 XP for defeating the Lapis Urocyon and 126 XP for defeating Go¡¯leb the Sand-Striker. You now have 192 and need 130 total for the next Level. // I was sickened again by the amount of Experience gained from killing another person, but I felt also that niggling feeling that the fastest way to become stronger would be to do just that. . . . // SYS : Well observed. // I ignored Her. Higher Dexterity might have given me the ability to avoid the hits, but my fingers were numb from the impact of the mace, and my side still thumped pulsing pain, so my instinct immediately went for Constitution. Con¡ª no, wait. I struggled. The decision wasn¡¯t massive, I was levelling up almost every day. The one Stat boost, though it always felt massive, wasn¡¯t an enormous consideration going forwards. This slowly moving brain. . . . That¡¯s it. Mind. // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 10. Your Mind Stat is now 5. You have 62 XP remaining and need 137 total for the next Level. // I waved the shining bronze sphere away and produced the rope that Fara had given us, and set about tightly tying it around Yariq¡¯s unconscious form. Then I hefted him onto my shoulder. ¡°Now just to make it back,¡± I said. Lenya just nodded. We left the fox and Go¡¯leb in the dirt. Unceremonious. The way back through the Dwellship was cautious. At every point, scrutinising eyes peered down on us from the vines overhead, or out of the shanties that leaned on each other in the streets. Not two alleys down, we had a group following us. ¡°Hey, niraki,¡± they called out. ¡°Where are you going with that Zoraki?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s talk.¡± We tried to ignore them, but eventually they ran out of patience. Coming into a broad open space ¡ª possibly one of only a small handful in the Dwellship ¡ª the rise down to the Craftship ahead, where we could see over the edge the barricade the wardens had constructed, they caught up to us. One placed a hand on my shoulder. I shook it off. Another lifted Yariq¡¯s head, still unconscious, and tutted. ¡°He¡¯s not one of yours,¡± I grunted. Every bone ached. The wounds on my shoulder, hip and side pulsed horrible pain through my veins. A bright-eyed young jungle-folk woman came in front of me and met my eyes. I gripped the Bronze Spear of Blinding and felt myself bristle in intimidation, but then I saw her face break in a soothing smile, thin leathery lips opening up to show white teeth. ¡°Nakai, it¡¯s Talbot, isn¡¯t it?¡± C48 : Crimson Crown Taken aback, I relaxed my shoulders and tried to place her face. . . . The mother from the vampyri fight! She nodded at my recollection and beamed even wider. ¡°I¡¯m Jiriam. I haven¡¯t had a chance to thank ya!¡± The woman stepped back and motioned her hands for others to gather round, then clasped mine in hers. ¡°Dis is one of dem that saved our fur during de Scouring! Mista Talbot, Missus Lenya . . . I don¡¯t see Mista Alator, but,¡± her large hazel eyes welled up and her furred chin scrunched into a ball, ¡°Dese t¡¯ree jumped inta action and me and Luka made it out thanks to dem.¡± I shifted on my feet, a little uncomfortable with the gush of emotion. ¡°I hope everyone¡¯s well. After having faced that fiend, I can¡¯t imagine the terror of it suddenly appearing in your home.¡± She shook her head, now streaming tears. ¡°Heart o¡¯ gold, dis one!¡± My chest puffed up and my heart swelled. ¡°Well, thank you. . . .¡± ¡°And . . . what¡¯re ya doing now?¡± I cleared my throat. Picking up a bounty? That doesn¡¯t sound great. . . . Lenya piped up: ¡°We received word that some outsider miscreants were taking advantage of all the confusion. As outsiders ourselves, having been so warmly welcomed by Ith-Korr, we agreed to try to put a stop to their bad deeds. We¡¯ve just subdued one of them,¡± she said, touching the back of the unconscious body of Yariq over my shoulder. ¡°We also took out an accomplice ¡ª another outsider who unfortunately could not be reasoned with ¡ª and in the process ensured everyone in the Dwellship involved is safe. We saw to that despite it presenting us with much more danger. The fracas was fifteen minutes¡¯ walk in that direction,¡± she indicated. Jiriam and the others exchanged glances, but I couldn¡¯t feel any outright hostility from them. She picks her moments, but she really is impressive, I thought of Lenya. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t really understand at de moment, Missus, but I trust it¡¯s for da good of de city.¡± ¡°It is,¡± I nodded again. Wiping her eyes, the mother stepped aside. ¡°We¡¯ll not hamper ya long, in dat case! Let dem through.¡± And the crowd parted, all hungry eyes but smiling faces, and cleared a path towards the rise down to the Craftship tier. Sheepishly, with much more inclinations of heads and deference, we left. The climb down with one hand over Yariq¡¯s body to steady him was difficult, especially feeling the burn in my muscles and the bruised welts settling into what felt like my whole body. Once again at the barricade, I shouted over and we were let through. On the other side, the warden who had given us entry raised himself on his tiptoes to get a good look at our bounty. ¡°Yariq Sahl!¡± Over my shoulder, I felt the jungle-folk warden pull Yariq¡¯s wrappings down from his face and slap him hard across the cheek, and there was a grunt and moan, and squirming. ¡°Akhet amu! Imeru sechet?¡± Yariq blurted out. Another slap came. ¡°Es khafi, djeret!¡± The warden giggled and walked back around to face us. ¡°Ruddy good job, niraki! Get him back to the Wardship, you¡¯ve done a great service to Ith-Korr today.¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I adjusted the grip on Yariq, keeping him steady through his efforts against the ropes. As I did, my side throbbed, and I winced at the pain. ¡°Didn¡¯t go down easy?¡± the warden asked. ¡°This one did,¡± I shrugged. ¡°But he¡¯d enlisted some of the denizens of the Dwellship. You Vyneshi are tough.¡± A lick of pride crossed his face, but he shook it away. ¡°Here,¡± he said, withdrawing a familiar white flower with a fine, almost glass-like stem. ¡°My mother keeps Windbloom Herbs.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± I exclaimed. I took it with my free hand, crumpled it up as I had before in the Sinews of Korgoth, releasing some of the juice like thick water, and swallowed it down. Instantly, the pain in my side numbed a little and I knew the bruises would be on their way to healing. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it, Mista.¡± The journey through the Craftship drew a great deal of attention, but aside from whispered comments, not a single person confronted us upon seeing the peculiar sight. As we went, Yariq cursed us incessantly in his mother-tongue. ¡°I don¡¯t understand you,¡± I said as we reached the rise to the lowest tier. ¡°I know, djeret, but this tongue has always been distasteful to me.¡± Lenya cleared her throat. ¡°Before you were soundly trounced, you said something that¡¯s been bothering me,¡± she said as I lowered Yariq to the floor to check his bindings. Yariq got a good look at her for the first time, and his eyes went wide and a little taken aback by her, but hate quickly shot through. ¡°What is it, long ear djeret?¡± Ignoring the insult, she said, ¡°You said you had things to accomplish within Ith-Korr.¡± There was another squirm over my shoulder, but not trying to escape ¡ª Yariq had just turned his head away. I gave him a jolt, but he kept silent. ¡°Lenya, explain what you mean.¡± ¡°The way he said it, and when he arrived, he seemed to know something was going to happen.¡± At that, Yariq¡¯s body went stiff. The Wardship was in sight; I could see far over a broad open area the spiked barricades the wardens had set up. But this set my senses on edge. I ducked into a narrow alley and threw Yariq to the floor, propped against a wooden wall of some establishment. ¡°Speak,¡± my voice was tinged with danger. Yariq spat on the floor by my feet. ¡°Lenya, make him talk.¡± Lenya put her hand up in front of her. The familiar warm breeze of magic overtook the space, sawdust and wood shavings picked up and were drawn towards her, rolling past my sandals, and she began to intone arcane words under her breath. Yariq¡¯s blue face grew pale ¡ª he recognised the effect, and struggled desperately against the vine rope, stretching and creaking, but made no progress. All told, the spell took her perhaps ten seconds to cast, and finally her lips parted: ¡°[Command : Truth.]¡± The desert-folk¡¯s eyes shot open. I recalled the mental anguish that threatened to overtake me the first time I had met the elf princess, and I knew that every one of his instincts were screaming at him to spill his heart to her. He did not put up much resistance. ¡°We were told . . . Ith-Korr would . . . be attacked,¡± he gasped through gritted teeth. Lenya leaned closer, pressed her fingers into his forehead. He winced and let out a yelp. ¡°Who told you this?¡± I growled, venomous. The dune tattoos on Yariq¡¯s cheeks rippled as his face contorted with effort. His face darkened, and a vein ridged on his forehead. ¡°The . . . Crimson . . . Crown,¡± he grunted through a locked jaw. Then Lenya¡¯s magic was released, she rocked backwards on her heels and almost fell. I caught her shoulder and she steadied herself and stood. Yariq doubled over, coughing and spluttering, face pressed against the wooden planks. ¡°Witch!¡± he spat at Lenya, then true honest fear settled over his features, and his words came stammering, ¡°Please . . . don¡¯t tell them I told you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell who?¡± I asked. ¡°The Crimson Crown.¡± I shrugged and set about ensuring his ropes were properly tied. ¡°From what I understand about Barbican justice,¡± I muttered, ¡°You¡¯re likely to be put to death for your crimes.¡± ¡°They¡¯d do much worse than that,¡± he said. ¡°Tell us about them,¡± I barked. His face screwed up again in pain, so I added, ¡°And before you start, remember that my companion here has at least one more of those spells in her.¡± Lenya took to my side and peered down at him, and gathered magic again. Her eyes shone silver like glinting steel. Yariq averted his eyes from both of us and slumped. ¡°The Crimson Crown is a Barbican-wide assemblage of ambition. Each member has their own goals ¡ª I couldn¡¯t list names or plans even if I wanted to. Go¡¯leb, sahir ir sekher, was in contact with one of their members; a Gilgashi told him about Ith-Korr, that an attack would come from the skies, and that many opportunities would arise.¡± ¡°Turns the stomach,¡± Lenya mumbled, taking a step away, then I felt her snap and her voice raised imperious, echoing in the alley. ¡°These people could have been warned! So many dead!¡± Castigation wasn¡¯t the way to go; a foul smile crept over Yariq¡¯s face, and he scoffed. ¡°Gilgashi?¡± Yariq looked up at me through a furrowed brow for a moment, then clicked his teeth, ¡°Forgot you newcomers know so little about Barbican. Gilgashi are feline fur-folk, the majority of the population of Uruk.¡± Met with another blank face, he added, ¡°The greatest city in Barbican.¡± I looked to Lenya. Steaming, she did not take her eyes off him, but whispered out the corner of her mouth: ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth about it all, as far as I can tell.¡± Nodding, I turned back to Yariq, grabbed the ropes around his chest and wrists, and hauled him up back over my shoulder. The pain in my ribs throbbed with the strain, but only a little. The Crimson Crown. . . . Careful, Tal, don¡¯t get your hopes up. . . . But it seems we finally have a lead. C49 : Bounty Secured Passing the spiked barricades into the Wardship, we came into the squat, wide, tapestry decorated foyer with the old jungle-folk woman behind the desk. She leapt to her feet as we entered and called ¡°Captain Paresh!¡± It took a minute, but eventually the lush green fur of the (relatively) tall Wardship Captain moved through the door into the room. Instantly upon seeing us he clapped his leathery hands together and jumped to meet us. Inspecting the desert-folk over my shoulder, he clapped his hands again. ¡°Incredible work! And captured without bloodshed, it looks like!¡± Lenya and I exchanged a glance. ¡°We explained to the wardens in the Craftship, but just quickly, he had roped a few citizens of the Dwellship into his scheme,¡± I explained. Paresh¡¯s face dropped and he started stammering, so I continued, ¡°Aside from a few welts and roughing up, no harm was done to them ¡ª they were . . . pacified and they all escaped. Gobble¡ª Go¡¯leb, he¡¯s a fighter in the Horizon Arena but clearly well involved, fought to the last, however. There¡¯s a bit of a scene there.¡± Paresh nodded. ¡°We can¡¯t currently go into the Dwellship, but we¡¯ll handle that as soon as we can. All¡¯s well that ends well, and it seems you two have done brilliantly. Teera, the bounty was set at sixty.¡± Teera, the old book keeper behind the desk, peered over beneath her heavy grey eyebrows and counted out the copper, and handed it over. Lenya took the stacks of small coins and dropped them into my pouch at my side, which was getting pretty heavy, bandoleer strap digging into my right shoulder. ¡°Carry him in here, if you would,¡± Paresh said, and opened the door to the side of the room. Through it was another wide open space with two dozen desks, reminiscent of every cop show I¡¯d ever seen. There were two other jungle-folk wardens in the room, busy at work, one wore a bloodied sling and winced with each movement, the other was buried under stacks of parchment, writing feverishly. Both looked up and grinned as we entered, and came over. ¡°Look at that!¡± ¡°Bloody got him!¡± ¡°Nothing these niraki can¡¯t handle, I¡¯d say!¡± Paresh said, clapping again and laughing. Then his face turned sour and he set a heavy chair against the wall, bronze bars set into the normal dark wood. He indicated it and I walked over and pushed Yariq down onto it. Paresh instantly wrapped a thin bronze chain around the ropes that held him and the bars of the chair back. ¡°You¡¯ve done another great service, Mista Talbot of the Flying Spear, Missus Lenya of the Hoary Gold.¡± Impressed he remembered the names and even Lenya¡¯s epithet, all I said was, ¡°Thanks.¡± Lenya was more proper: ¡°It was our pleasure. With the harrowing ordeal that your city has undergone, we are very happy to help how we can. After being welcomed so graciously here, and provided all kinds of opportunities and open trade, we were eager to give something back.¡± For the right price, came a thought, somewhat subconsciously. I didn¡¯t even have any place to spend the money I had, but old RPG habits die hard. ¡°Yes,¡± Paresh¡¯s round black eyes grew serious, and he turned to the others. ¡°Process him, keep him tied, keep him bound. Gag him if you have to. I¡¯ll have to spare a messenger to send word to Uruk, Harleq and Nekesh ¡ª to let them know who it was who caught him ¡ª under employ by the Ith-Korr Wardship, of course ¡ª and start the discussion over this scum¡¯s fate.¡± ¡°I¡¯d assumed he¡¯d be put to death for his crimes,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯d be right, but the manner varies ¡ª the marsh-folk of Harleq, for example, prefer to tie him to great weights on to one of their reed half-boats and send him out over the lake, feast for the man-eating fungi.¡± Horrid image. I turned to leave, but stopped on my heels, and held up a hand, feeling a lot like Columbo, but probably looking more like a child in school. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Wardship Captain, what do you know of the Crimson Crown?¡± Paresh thought for a moment, then raised his shoulders. ¡°Something Yariq said to you?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes. Seems there¡¯s a mysterious group that knew the Scouring would take place, some days before.¡± Paresh¡¯s face blanked for a moment, then the faint amber in his eyes flashed and his green fur bristled. He stamped over to where Yariq was sat and grabbed the scruff of his wrappings, using his considerable Strength to pull the much taller man from the seat of the chair. Pushing his scarred face right into Yariq¡¯s space, he launched into a full chimpanzee pant-hoot, with a quick build up and a few high-pitched shrieking screams an inch away from Yariq¡¯s nose. It would have been hysterical if it wasn¡¯t so frightening. ¡°You knew! A hundred dead! My brothers and sisters of the Wardship! And you knew!¡± For all Yariq¡¯s swagger, he shrunk away under the jungle-folk Captain¡¯s rage. ¡°You¡¯ll hang for this ¡ª Harleq and Nekesh be damned. You won¡¯t see the end of the week.¡± He threw him back down on the chair, bashing Yariq¡¯s head against the wooden wall. Paresh¡¯s whole body was tense and vibrated energy. There was a flash of fear of himself in him, like that moment of wild fury was an old acquaintance that he¡¯d tried to shed. Then he blew out his lungs and brought himself back down to Earth (Barbican), straightened the grey-green Wardship medal on the breast of his tabard, and returned more to the humanoid jungle-folk that I knew. ¡°Tiki-rah,¡± came a small voice from across the room. One of the wardens, the one at the desk, had her hand up. She was a small jungle-folk woman with golden fur, a shaggy head of 80s perm hair, and a long, grey-white face. A pair of long fangs protruded from her mouth which gave her a bit of a lisp. ¡°Captain, I¡¯ve heard of de Crimson Crown.¡± ¡°Come over here, Warden Drya,¡± she hastily stacked some of the parchments together into a neat pile and hurried over, touching hands with Paresh as greeting. ¡°What have you heard?¡± ¡°Was from de Shadow Prowlers a few months ago. One of deir blabbermouths living large at the mibege joint up da rise, craven man named Tilke. Didn¡¯t say much useful, but was bragging up a storm ¡ª didn¡¯t care he had wardens sitting at de next table; so confident, he was.¡± Paresh¡¯s fur furrowed over his eyes. He said, ¡°Oh, yes, I remember your report. Thank you, Warden Drya,¡± and she returned to her desk. Then he turned to us both and bowed. ¡°I cannot ask your kindness to bear another burden on our account,¡± he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. ¡°We need to act against the Shadow Prowlers. They still have four of our wardens captive. I am enraged and exhausted, not thinking clearly.¡± He added the last sentence as if to reassure himself. I looked to Lenya. There was strain in her eyes, and a quiver to her lower lip, but she clenched her jaws and inclined her head to me. It was then that I realised that understanding was coming more easily, thoughts were more ordered in my mind. It felt like 11am after my second cup of instant coffee: a rush of mental acuity, as if all the colours in the room were more vibrant. This is the Mind increase. What I did not expect was the impact on social cues; everyone¡¯s actions had more impact ¡ª even a subtle movement betrayed some desire or other. I knew what Captain Paresh wished to ask of us, but also knew he wouldn¡¯t ever have said it. This is our first proper lead! If I am to live up to that ambitious potential SYS keeps talking about, at some point I have to start making decisions myself ¡ª pushing myself into situations ¡ª forcing myself into ACTION. ¡°We will face the Shadow Prowlers,¡± I stated to Paresh, my fist clenched around the thick haft of the Bronze Spear of Blinding. He blinked at me, the furrow and darkness lifting for a moment. I stood defiant and sure-eyed, almost smiling. My heart threatened to burst out of my chest. ¡°You . . . It would put you in immense danger, Mista Talbot,¡± Paresh said flatly. I chuckled. When am I ever not? Paresh leapt to his feet and started gesticulating wildly. ¡°You know of the Shadow Prowlers ¡ª they¡¯re the bandit gang you encountered on the road. General Skelth leads them, a shrewd fighter, veteran of the Shadowed War, from which he kept the title. A few weeks ago, one of our patrols were attacked on the Trade Road to Uruk. We found their broken weapons and evidence of a bad fight ¡ª no bodies, and not enough blood to tell us they were killed. They are likely still hostages with the Shadow Prowlers, but we have received no demands from Skelth. ¡°We know the touch of their network is in the intercity black market, and that their headquarters is a hidden enclave outside the walls ¡ª members are led by the skulls of beasts like breadcrumbs to it, but we have not the manpower to launch a full incursion.¡± He breathed out heavily, bringing him back down to Earth Barbican. ¡°With what you know of the Dwellship, you can see why many youngsters see it as their only recourse.¡± Gangs follow the same motivations on Barbican as on Earth, I thought. The Wardship captain continued: ¡°Their numbers are too great for you to run in spear glinting, and we do not wish further bloodshed of our own kind. But I know General Skelth to be a man of peculiar honour. If Drya¡¯s man Tilka is to be believed, they have dealings with the Crimson Crown.¡± There was a light clearing of the throat from behind us, and we turned to see Teera, the old bookkeeper, was still behind us in the room. ¡°Should you explain the Secret?¡± she whispered, then put her hand to her mouth as if she¡¯d said something awful. Paresh ran his fingers through the fur atop his head, then drew his palm down his face, wiping imagined sweat and grime off. ¡°Yes, I should,¡± he said, and took a quick look around. ¡°Let¡¯s move to my office, please, Mista Talbot, Missus Lenya.¡± C50 : Secret of Ith-Korr We followed him through the room between the small desks and past the other two wardens present to a small, dark door. There were no windows in the place, similar to everywhere else on Ith-Korr, but there was a large opening between his office and the main barracks room. Jumping lithely and reaching up, he grabbed a pulley and covered the opening with a heavy wooden shutter. His office was a similar size as the bedroom I¡¯d been staying in at the Woven Vine; no more than six feet wide, and that high. I ducked into the room and had to stand slightly hunched. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve grown taller, I thought again. But it might just be that I¡¯ve been in Ith-Korr too long. Paresh sat behind a ¡ª for me and Lenya ¡ª thigh height desk, and indicated a single stool. I was about to indicate ladies first to Lenya, but she had already dropped down onto it. The captain sighed heavily, which turned into a yawn, rubbed his eyes, leant back on his chair and crossed his arms in front of him. ¡°Before I start, I¡¯m not going to go into all the details. This is a very sensitive subject amongst Vyneshi, and you are shortly to be perhaps one of only a dozen outsiders who know about it. . . . Our people are going through a change.¡± ¡°Of government? Of spirit?¡± Lenya suggested. Paresh shook his head. His face was troubled, heavy eye bags beneath a V-met brow, and he inhaled and exhaled deeply. ¡°Of our bodies and minds. We¡¯ve . . . been aware of it for some time ¡ª some generations, but are no closer to understanding why as we are to stopping it. Simply put, we are becoming more feral. Our emotions run hot or deathly cold, we fear the darks of the trees below, and yet we all, on some level, yearn to simply leave Ith-Korr and welcome the jungle¡¯s embrace. This pull is becoming greater each year, and our minds grow more confused and instinctual. My . . . the outburst you saw is a symptom of this, but it is eating into our culture and every part of our way of life. Our Shrewdship, the council, believes we have but a few decades left before the majority of us are simple beasts. ¡°We all feel this,¡± he continued. ¡°Those of the Dwellship no longer feel the need to maintain the buildings. We are gradually sacrificing crops to the wilds as we cannot keep them back. Our traders are hoodwinked at every turn, taken advantage of as our natures become more trusting, or set upon unawares and undefended.¡± Absolutely of blank mind, I just stared at him and let the information wash over me. Devastating, I thought. Horribly devastating. I imagined the terror and fear that would come over Earth if the population were to suddenly start . . . devolving. The panic and rage, the total unrest . . . ¡°And on top of that, the Scouring.¡± Lenya¡¯s voice was quiet, pained. Tears flowed freely, wetting her robes. I leant against the wall. Had I been more empathetic back on Earth? I pushed the thought from my mind. The Wardship Captain continued: ¡°We are determined to weather our curse alone and with dignity, but groups such as the Shadow Prowlers exploit the situation.¡± The dark statement lingered for a moment, and Paresh sunk further into his chair. I tried to switch tacks. ¡°Do you know whether the Shrewdship has heard from other cities? We were wondering whether this incursion was more widespread.¡± Paresh sat up in his chair again, taking on a little more of the captain¡¯s authority that we knew. ¡°As soon as we were sure we were made safe, the Shipship sent our fastest vessels to the other docks on the Boiling Sea. We are expecting to hear back from them tomorrow.¡± Rapping my fingers on the wall behind me, I considered the option, then decided: ¡°We will hear the outcomes before setting out to the Shadow Prowlers. This concerns us and our business greatly.¡± A moment of weird panic flashed across Paresh¡¯s face, then, and he spoke through bared teeth, ¡°Did you know, too?¡± ¡°We did not,¡± Lenya said sternly, wiping her eyes. ¡°We are aware of the foe you face. It has ravaged the places Alator and Lenya come from.¡± ¡°It had not yet fully reached Aricae?th, but we were suffering the same attacks before I . . . was pulled away,¡± Lenya clarified. ¡°From what I understand,¡± I continued, ¡°Alator¡¯s World was set on for many years, and the World-Eater itself appeared there. We don¡¯t have specifics ¡ª the man¡¯s not very forthcoming ¡ª but we know it ended in awful tragedy, and the fight was still raging by the time he was . . . pulled away.¡± Paresh breathed out heavily, uncrossed his arms and placed them on the table in front of him. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°The World-Eater?¡± Lenya still bristled each time the name was used. She explained: ¡°An awful colossus. My people called it Albowesti. The breadth of what we know, you now know as well.¡± Scratching his head with a long, leathery hand, moving about the soft green fur there, Paresh mumbled: ¡°Right. Very little. Well, I¡¯ll disseminate this scant information.¡± ¡°Only to a select few who need to know,¡± I noted. ¡°Of course,¡± Paresh said, taken aback a moment. ¡°I am not yet so simple. Thank you again. And yes, you can wait until tomorrow to set out to the Shadow Prowlers. I¡¯ll ask Drya to take you to the first of their breadcrumbs then.¡± We nodded, and got up to leave. Paresh jumped clean over the desk as easily as flinching, and opened the door for us. Outside, the suns were visible beneath the tier ceiling above our heads, sinking over the eastern horizon, lighting the Boiling Sea a sickly wine red. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the Woven Vine.¡± Stepping into the low-ceilinged place, lit only by a single flickering oil lamp, we spotted Alator. ¡°I¡¯ve another place to stay,¡± he grunted shortly, standing and walking past us. Still in a mood. I¡¯d have liked to stay close to Keza and Brekis, but at least for now they didn¡¯t need protection. We followed Alator across the way and rounded the corner of one of the enormous redwood trees to a single storey white painted building, joined to the wood below. Inside, it was clearly a normal house, mostly a single squat main room, but set out like temporary accommodation, all prim and proper and spotless. I felt like I was in an Airbnb filling a very peculiar niche. ¡°Owners said this is ours as long as we¡¯re in the city,¡± Alator explained, shrugging. Lenya went to the cupboards to find them stuffed, and made everyone a pick and mix dinner. Not much was spoken about over dinner as Lenya and I devoured it and Alator picked carefully at each thing, scrutinising it and ¡ª more often than not ¡ª setting it aside. The elf princess then set up three plush bed pallets in the room and, setting herself up against the wall, fell asleep. After a while, once we could hear Lenya¡¯s breathing settle into sleeping rhythm, Alator piped up: ¡°Heard you got another bounty under your belt.¡± ¡°Yes, an international criminal. No thanks to you.¡± He scoffed. ¡°You don¡¯t seem too shaken up.¡± ¡°One of the wardens gave me a Windbloom when we got back,¡± I explained with a shrug. ¡°The same healing herb you used when the cold serpent bit you?¡± Impressed with his recall, I nodded. Alator¡¯s already testy mood turned even darker. ¡°And you used it to flit away some bruises and discomfort? Did it not occur to you to retain it, to use it when it was actually required?¡± ¡°Oh, leave it,¡± I grunted. I knew where this conversation was going. ¡°You don¡¯t think! You have so much more to learn, I understand that ¡ª you lived in luxury until two weeks ago ¡ª but you don¡¯t even seem capable of thinking for yourself. This is another blunder, Talbot.¡± He¡¯s just taking out frustration, don¡¯t rise to it. The inner voice came calm and collected, followed instantly by a rush of anger that superseded it, dissipating any patience I had. ¡°Another blunder? I think I¡¯ve been doing a bloody good job, considering. I¡¯ve killed wolves with human faces, a skeleton, a massive enchanted snake, a demon armadillo, weird mercury angelfish, and scorpions as long as my arm! And that was just in the first week!¡± Alator breathed out steam, his long wolf¡¯s teeth glinting in the flickering lamplight. ¡°That¡¯s not all, Talbot,¡± he hissed menacingly. ¡°You¡¯ve also killed enemy warriors.¡± My heart skipped a beat, pain in my chest, my face drew pale and the coming torrent of words I had been putting into place in my mind slipped away. A silence passed for a moment as I flinched under Alator¡¯s stare. Then he spoke past bared teeth: ¡°But they did not come to mind when thinking of your triumphs. You must accept it.¡± ¡°Mortal self-defence,¡± I muttered. ¡°Yes, it was. Does that change anything about the action ¡ª about the fact of taking a life?¡± ¡°No, but . . .¡± I trailed off. ¡°No. Accept that you killed people. Accept each and every one of them, and accept that many more are coming.¡± Steeling myself, I brought my gaze back to his and put a hand to my chest. ¡°I will always do everything I can to avoid that.¡± Noise exploded from Alator ¡ª something between a howling laugh and a frustrated shout. ¡°The orchard in Akhur¡¯shet. Those people were out for your blood. They would have killed you without a second thought, and held themselves entirely morally justified for doing so. We had the opportunity to end that ¡ª by destroying whatever fell god had them under its sway.¡± This had to come up at some point, I thought. ¡°They all relied on it, Alator,¡± I tried to steady my voice, but the pumping blood in my ears had me almost shouting at him. ¡°If we¡¯d destroyed the Ember Spirit, the emberfruit trees would have died, they would all have lost their livelihood.¡± ¡°THEY WOULD HAVE KILLED ¡ª¡± Alator started yelling, until the movement of heavy woollen sheets and creaks from the bed in the corner had him stop and spin his head. ¡°Do you want to know what I think?¡± Lenya¡¯s voice came sleepy and faint across the room. She sat up and leant against the wooden cladding on the wall. ¡°No!¡± Alator barked. It must have been a reflex, because he breathed out and muttered, ¡°What do you think?¡± She shut her eyelids hard, then opened them and looked at me. The oil lamplight danced across the graceful curve of her face. ¡°I think you¡¯re hiding something behind all this talk, Talbot. I think you¡¯ve laid a shroud of morality over what really exists beneath.¡± Alator threw a hand to her in agreement. A little stunned, a wordless defensive scoff as a murmur crept out of my lips, but only for a moment. I was very used to people over-analysing my mind through years of HR check-ins at MegaCorp, so I then responded by humouring her: ¡°And what¡¯s beneath?¡± ¡°Brutality, Talbot. Your morality is just; I see that and recognise much of what my own people believe within you, but the way you act is so different ¡ª like night and day. At first, I really begrudged you for it, but I¡¯ve come to accept it as part and parcel of life in this New World of Barbican. Alator and you come from different Worlds, I know, but I wonder how comparable they are in their savagery.¡± I thought of my polyester sheets of my Assigned Domicile, the uncomfortable cushions of the sky-buses I used to take to my 8 to 6 job. The biggest tension I experienced in my old life was someone stealing my milk from the office fridge. ¡°Sorry, Lenya, but you¡¯re wrong. Nothing in my old world was savage. We had sterilised everything. The only time I used my body at all was for a quick weekly gym session.¡± She cocked her head and without missing a beat, asked, in a very small voice, curious and honest, with no knowledge of how devastating the words were: ¡°Then why do you think you¡¯re like this?¡± I could do nothing but let the question hang there. C51 : Taking Stock II In the morning, Lenya woke first and was gone before we woke. While stretching out into a few different poses (whatever vague recollection I had of yoga), I found solace in the stream of my inner power. Casting my mind¡¯s eye inwards, I stepped into the warm, softly-flowing water and gazed down at the points of light within: [Battle Tactics] was there, two crimson dots; of course [Weapon Mastery], two, steel blue; [Vigour], two, burnt orange; then what I understood as the burgeoning forest green [Beast Mastery] and sandy brown [Survival]; and then there were also three others, one a natural off-white, like the creamy colour of thistle flowers; one a shining, arcane deep purple; and another that, while I focused on it, shifted between blue, grey, red, brown, and back again. I sent out a probe. SYS? I know about [Beast Mastery] and [Survival] ¡ª those make sense, given the trials I¡¯ve gone through thus far. What are the other three? Bzz. The little bronze orb popped into existence beside my right ear. The electric blue eye stretched over its form and seemed to peer past my skull. Reluctantly, with what I¡¯m sure was an inaudible sigh, the voice came back: // SYS : [Herbalism], and it appears [Mysticism] and [Elementalism]. // I blinked. Huh. [Herbalism] I guess I understand, I¡¯ve eaten a couple of herbs, but the magic ones? I guess Skills grow as you are exposed to them? // SYS : Not ordinarily, no. Skills are gained normally through weeks or months of daily use, think as an apprentice sculptor learning under a master. Something strange is happening with yours. I can only think that it might be because you have been directly involved in Lenya¡¯s use of her own magic. . . . I have said before, you have an ambitious cap¡ª // Yes, an ambitious capability, thanks. I watched the new colours for a little while longer, not quite present enough for me to reach out and grab, but growing. Of them, it seemed to me, [Survivalism] was almost ready. Vigorously warmed up, a few beads of sweat on my forehead, I found whatever I could use as a mirror ¡ª a plate-sized shining, polished bronze disc. My arms were corded muscle, flexing came as aggressive twitches that bulged the skin. My neck was thicker. My thighs were powerful. But my body was compact, sort of like coiled, I thought ¡ª I wasn¡¯t nearly approaching the sheer bulk of Alator, though. Perhaps that¡¯s due to body type? I coped. I stepped over Alator¡¯s sleeping form and out the door. The morning was much like the others since the Scouring, with a few morose faces pottering about. In the light of the late dawn, with the suns well over the tops of the jungle forest but not yet out of sight behind the tier above, I could see one of the vigilant mourners, dressed in black. There were also a few jungle-folk and others who had a little more energy to them, mostly crafters, but a few others ¡ª slowly returning to their normal lives. Or else, no longer able to fully grasp the situation they¡¯re in, I darkly thought. The bronze sphere glinted in the light. SYS, in your view, how¡¯s my progress? // SYS : This question again. I do not have your destiny mapped out, Talbot. You are a Guardian of the New Worlds, a Warrior of the Gods, I have simply set you on the path. // Okay, Gandalf. She ignored me. // SYS : Your progress is stellar. Your improvement thus far ¡ª being only on Barbican for two fast weeks ¡ª is nothing short of miraculous. // My chest grew two sizes and a weight was lifted from my mind. // SYS : But do not grow complacent. // Then the System faded from existence with a buzz. At that moment, I spotted Lenya turn a corner and walk towards the house. She had a long loaf of bread and a wrapped parcel ¡ª I guessed cheese ¡ª in one hand, her ever-present staff in the other. Back inside, spreading soft cheese over the bread and chowing down, still not touching the sides of my new insane appetite, Alator awoke. He did not touch the food, just did his normal back walkover to stretch, and I saw a soft yellow smoke drift from his eyes and dissipate as he must have tested his access of his own Skills. ¡°Plans for the day?¡± I asked as a corporate reflex. ¡°Nothing. If you have no better ideas, Talbot, I implore you to consent to our continuing our journey. I have heard of a great city a few days¡¯ walk along the Trade Road, Uruk. It is our best bet to learn more about the World-Eater, and sounds as fine a place as any to fortify and prepare for its coming.¡± Over the meal, we explained our plans to Alator. He was still steaming, cranky and flinching at everything, but at least spoke to us both like adults. In particular, he showed much more respect to Lenya than he had been ¡ª certainly more than the night before. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. His form of an apology, I guess. Or else . . . he just enjoyed how she berated me. ¡°So now we¡¯re fully just dogs for the wardens?¡± he asked. ¡°Listen to us,¡± I said. My psyche was still rocked by Lenya¡¯s accusations, and felt on edge around Alator, but through the course of the conversation, he had . . . warmed is certainly not the right word, perhaps cooled. ¡°Before we handed Yariq over to the wardens,¡± Lenya said, her voice light and melodious, losing that imperious edge, ¡°We forced some information out of him. An organisation called the Crimson Crown knew about the coming attack.¡± Alator¡¯s eyes shot wide and he leapt to his feet, as if to immediately physically attack the notion. ¡°Calm down,¡± I said. ¡°And listen to her.¡± ¡°We know nothing about the Crimson Crown, other than they seem to be a Barbican-wide collection of powerful and ambitious people. The Shadow Prowlers ¡ª the bandits we met on the road ¡ª knew about the attack as well. We are setting off this morning, with a warden guide named Drya, to find where the Shadow Prowlers are, learn what they know and how they learnt it, hopefully get a lead on the Crimson Crown, and, if possible, to bring General Skelth, their leader, to justice.¡± Alator breathed out his lungs and settled a little. ¡°Then we have a plan. Take the rest of your burnt wheat and hardened off-milk with you, we¡¯re heading there now.¡± And he walked fast paced to the door and threw it open. ¡°It¡¯s bread and cheese, Alator. By Jove, it¡¯s food.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not food; it was never alive,¡± he called behind him. As we approached the Wardship, we saw Teera the bookkeeper unlocking the door with a large iron key. A gaggle of wardens were set outside, awaiting their orders. Paresh wasn¡¯t yet there. ¡°Bright and early!¡± Teera¡¯s croaking voice called out to us. ¡°We are here for Drya,¡± Alator led. A sweet white-grey face appeared out of the group of wardens, and Drya stepped forwards, her golden fur covered by leather travelling clothes. ¡°Tiki-rah, you two. Pleasure to meet ya, Alator,¡± she smiled. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s get on,¡± Alator said, already turning. ¡°Hold on, we¡¯re waiting for Paresh. The council of Ith-Korr is awaiting word from the other cities on the Boiling Sea.¡± Addressing Drya, I asked, ¡°How long is the journey?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll get to da start of deir territory in a couple of hours,¡± Drya said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. ¡°After dat, I don¡¯t know, but all going well ya might well be back before nightfall. I¡¯d like to let de Captain know properly dat we¡¯re on our way, as well. He¡¯ll only be a few minutes. Please,¡± she said, indicating the door. We followed Teera and Drya into the antechamber and set down on chairs. Only a couple of minutes passed before Wardship Captain Paresh arrived and greeted us all. ¡°Thank you again for agreeing, and for being here so early. You are to head into the jungle to make sense of what Drya¡¯s contact, the Shadow Prowler named Tilke, was bragging about; that they have connections to the Crimson Crown, to find out what they knew of the attack on Ith-Korr, and ultimately . . . if General Skelth, their leader, is willing to offer any help. Now, remember, the Shadow Prowlers are criminals, but their crimes rarely extend to murder, or anything else that deserves capital punishment.¡± ¡°They¡¯re desperate and they¡¯re lashing out,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s understandable.¡± ¡°Insightful,¡± Paresh nodded, ¡°But of course the damage they do hurts our city just the same. Traders on the Road? That will kill whatever trade still exists in this harsh land . . . whatever trade will still exist after the Scouring.¡± Drya¡¯s gaze dropped. ¡°Your primary objective is just to reach out to them. Learn more. Try to convince him to send at least a peaceful envoy to the Wardship so we can discuss this properly. We only have it on one drunken man¡¯s word that they had knowledge of the Scouring before it happened, so don¡¯t ¡ª¡± ¡°But he did have knowledge of the Crimson Crown,¡± I butted in. ¡°Yes,¡± Paresh was silent a moment, then conceded. ¡°Use your best judgement.¡± ¡°You have my word that I will preserve what peace I can,¡± I nodded. Alator scoffed next to me, but much to my relief, said nothing. ¡°I trust that you will,¡± Paresh said. ¡°That was the primary objective, do we have another?¡± I asked. ¡°Second is to secure the safe return of our wardens. The patrol we spoke about before was four people, all now likely prisoners in their camp.¡± I nodded. ¡°Any word from your messengers?¡± It seemed to take a moment for Paresh to understand the words. On a hunch, I touched the Analysis Card in my pouch.
Name : Paresh, Wardship Captain, Level 16
Stats : Str 12, Dex 15, Con 9, Mnd 4
Skills : Battle Tactics Lvl 2 (Lvl 3)
Inventory : Bronze Whistle, Mibege Flask, 19 Copper Coins
Weakness : Reluctant to kill
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
With a sinking heart, I realised his Mind Stat had reduced by one. Is it possible that giving into the emotions as he did yesterday did it? ¡°Oh, of course, I¡¯ve just come from there,¡± Paresh said, and collected his thoughts. ¡°Only one, so far; we have word from Nekesh on the northern shore. They were also assaulted, but it seems only by the bat minions, not the larger fiend. They fared . . . better than we did; by chance there is a party of heroes there.¡± A party of heroes? Now we¡¯re talking. I made a mental note. ¡°That sort of thing common?¡± ¡°Heroes?¡± Paresh looked at one of the tapestries that depicted the red suns lowering over a beautiful jungle horizon. ¡°Not here, at least not of your type. We understand there are many in Uruk. This party of heroes is led by a man named Yorrick the Collector.¡± At my double take and Alator¡¯s scoff, Paresh added: ¡°You know of him? We don¡¯t have any other information, but I will ask for some whenever we send another messenger to Nekesh.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. Yorrick of Ur-Kadesh! Was wondering if I¡¯d ever run back into him. He¡¯s from Earth, like me. Must have headed straight there to get there so quickly. Then I straightened my back and turned to the golden-furred jungle-folk beside me. ¡°Ready to go, Drya?¡± I asked her. Unsettling hesitation passed over her eyes, but after a glance to her colleagues, she stamped her foot and said, ¡°At once.¡± C52 : Wilds Once More Warden Drya led the way to the broad wooden platform, roped and hooked to gears which moved the ¡ª what looked to be recently repaired ¡ª vines. Drya greeted the lift workers and explained where we were going, and how long it was going to be before they should expect at least her back, then ushered us forwards. With a shiver, Lenya came to my side. I felt the gentle rush of her magic as a few small leaves and wood shavings were drawn towards her. Drya widened her stance a little, bracing. Lenya and I followed suit. Alator took place near the tree and watched out over the horizon. ¡°Tih-la,¡± she called out, and the jungle-folk on either side of the platform moved to the large wheels and pulled a lever away. The wheels began to spin and we were dropped, barely slower than falling, towards the ground far below. Plummeting down, the Hanging City of Ith-Korr fell away above, until we could see the full breadth of all its tiers over our heads, and the earth shot up to greet us. Lenya cried out and, as she had done on our way up, grabbed onto my wrist. Her fingers were thin, gentle and very soft. A blush and a smile warmed my cheeks. Moments before it reached the ground, with Lenya¡¯s eyes clamped closed, it slowed and set down heavily but steadily against the ground. The elf princess immediately released me and jumped off the lift and onto the ground, and breathed out a sigh of relief. ¡°Lead the way,¡± I said to Warden Drya, and she nodded. We walked over stone pavings to the start of the wall, where a squad of the small jungle-folk wardens already stood atop the ramparts, yawning and swaying after a night shift. Drya again greeted them and explained the day¡¯s events, then we passed out of civilisation and, for the first time in what felt like a good while, once again entered the wilds. The broad trade road stretched out ahead of us, wheel-ruts still deep in the dirt, and we were instantly greeted by the chittering and calls of the dense, living rainforest. ¡°We¡¯re heading straight into de jungle,¡± Drya said. ¡°We Vyneshi are most comfortable dere, but if I outpace ya, or ya folks ever need a breather, just shout and I¡¯ll slow down. Oh, and I¡¯ll be keeping an eye out, but my eyes have never been de sharpest ¡ª if any of ya see movement, whistle and drop to da ground. It¡¯ll probably be an anteater or bearcat, but ya never know.¡± She took a few steps towards the treeline, at a sharp angle away from the trade road, and continued: ¡°Hold on, and dis is very important: it¡¯s very unlikely, but in de event we come across a Stranglethorn, even a youngling, steel yahselves and prepare for de worst. We won¡¯t be able to hide from it, and we¡¯re certainly incapable of outrunning it, so it¡¯ll be a fight.¡± As she spoke, I consumed the noise and smell of the wilds, and felt my blood pump. I glanced to Alator, and saw the same effect on his face. ¡°We¡¯ll be ready,¡± I grunted. Stepping over deep mulch and ducking under thick branches overgrown with moss and pale green glowing vines, we bade goodbye to the suns and moved underneath the canopy. Within a few moments, we were lost in the dark, dankness of the jungle. Drya led the way, weaving easily between the trees, her hands darting out to steady herself and her tail flicking this way and that. She¡¯s a natural, I thought. Even from behind, I felt a calm exude from her, even over the tension in her shoulders. She wore a woven pack slung over her shoulder, the soft brown of her travelling leathers darkened with the humidity, and her hand was never far from the hilt of the short bronze sword she had at her belt. If we¡¯re preparing for battle . . . . Analysis.
Name : Drya, Wardship Warden, Level 3
Stats : Str 6, Dex 12, Con 4, Mnd 5
Skills : Vigour Lvl 1 (Lvl 2)
Inventory : Bone Needle, Bronze Sword, Firestarter, Jungle Nuts, Slingshot, 4 Sling-bullets, Waterskin, 3 Copper Coins This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Weakness : Clumsy with ranged weapons
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
After half an hour or so, my breathing heavy and body soaked with sweat from the radiating tropical heat and quick walking, I stopped for a moment. I was going to call out for a breather, but Lenya a few yards behind me gave a light yelp. Turning like a flash, hand gripping my spear, I saw that she¡¯d just fallen over a mess of tangled roots, and was already getting back on her toes. ¡°Drya,¡± I hissed ahead, ¡°Give us a moment.¡± The jungle-folk stopped her quick pace and came back to us, squatting close. She brought out some dried berries and jungle nuts and passed a small handful around, then passed around her waterskin as well. ¡°Ya should really get one of yah own, dere¡¯s no preparation here at all,¡± she said with a smile as I took a deep swig and passed it to Lenya. Lenya¡¯s auburn plaits were already in disarray, her forehead beading sweat and her chest heaved. ¡°Just a few minutes, please,¡± Lenya gasped. The jungle was fully alive in the darkness around us. Small yellow and red eyes peered from shadow, the undergrowth moved with thin snakes and lizards, and I caught the odd musk stink on whatever scant breeze moved through ¡ª whenever the canopy permitted. ¡°What else have you got?¡± I asked. ¡°Normal travelling stuff,¡± she shrugged. ¡°Needles, strikers, and my sling.¡± ¡°Are you confident with your sling?¡± ¡°Funny ya should mention, I¡¯ve never quite got the hang of it.¡± She brought out a finely plaited sling and slipped a wrist into the loop. Even I could see it rested uncomfortably in her hand. ¡°Mind handing it to Alator? Just until we get to where we¡¯re supposed to be.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You hate weapons, I know,¡± I preempted the complaint, and Alator snatched it away without fuss. He pulled the loop around his middle finger and pressed the cord between thumb and forefinger, then held his other hand out. She passed him three little lead ovals, with images or words scrawled into the metal. After another stint of travel, it was my turn to falter. Light-headed, mouth parched, legs burning, I called again for a break and fell down hard onto the flat of a punky tree stump. I wiped my face dry, my palm squeaking, and pushed wet hair from my forehead. Even my hair¡¯s growing faster, I mused, tugging at the nape of my neck. That moment, a TREMOR rolled through the earth, putting a shake through root and stone. Green-filtered rays of morning light streaked through the canopy as leaves shuddered above. Birds, hidden high in the branches, scattered into the sky, squawking alarm. Drya¡¯s form stiffened, head swivelling, and motioned for everyone to get low. Against the wet underbrush, Alator¡¯s eyes closed and beneath the lids came a faint yellow flash. ¡°It¡¯s two hundred yards away at least, just awoken,¡± he whispered, and pointed. ¡°And heading in our direction.¡± Drya looked at him, eyes now wide and ears twitching. The snout of her face quivered and her tongue shot out to anxiously lick her drying lips. ¡°It will . . . already know we¡¯re here,¡± she stammered. ¡°A Stranglethorn, and from da sounds of it, it¡¯s a mature one.¡± Her hands flitted around her pouch then her waist and she falteringly drew her short sword and held the hilt to her chest. ¡°Circle round and advance on it,¡± I commanded. Alator gave me a brief glance, his eyes hardened for battle, and accepted my judgement ¡ª he had a few times now witnessed my lay of the battlefield. He nodded and stalked away. We all followed behind, backs hunched, legs pressing into the ground, barely higher than a crawl. Another tremor passed over us, and another, more powerful than the last, as we went, but nothing happened until a minute passed, when Alator stopped before a tangle of low holywood branches, shrouded with clusters of purple flowers. He clicked his teeth and we came up beside him. Peering between the rippled and densely covered branches over a small dry clearing, we spotted it: The Stranglethorn ambled into view. It was a squat, barrel chested fiend with dark, matted fur that ran down its spine like a mane and tangled around four thick legs. It seemed much like a small woolly mammoth at first glance, but then its tusks came into view, if they could be called such; curling with thorns, articulated dried vines extended from either side of its mouth, bookending a long trunk. There were no eyes in its massive elongated skull-like head, and both its vine tusks wound and twisted like serpents, reaching over the ground and to the trees about it, finding its way.
Fiend : Stranglethorn, Level 9
Stats : Str 15, Dex 12, Con 2, Mnd 1
Attacks : Trample, Tusk Whip
Loot : Stranglethorn Hide, Stranglethorn Heartseed, Vine Tusk
Weakness : Fire
XP : 82
Massive webbed front feet, covered in fur and mud, crunched on the dried ground as it stepped into the clearing and inspected a nearby bush. Its hairless but bristled trunk quivered in the air, then its head turned directly towards us. With a snuffling grunt, its front legs dug down into the undergrowth, tearing plants free. Its hind legs, still thick and covered with heavy matted fur, were longer and shaped more like a panther¡¯s. Its vine tusks lashed out, wrapping around branches, shredding bark to a cloud of fibrous pulp, and with a massive burst of energy, its back legs shot it forwards into the clearing, tearing over the space towards us. C53 : Demon Elephant With SHOCKING speed, the Stranglethorn fiend pelted over the clearing in our precise direction. ¡°Scatter!¡± I shouted. ¡°Lenya, set it alight ¡ª base of the tusks. Alator, help me keep it busy. Drya, help where you can, but keep safe. It¡¯s mindless ¡ª you should be able to distract its attention if you can light a torch.¡± My companions yelled, ¡°Right!¡± and we leapt up and ran off in different directions. Lenya took place in front of the dense holywood tree, with Drya beside her, shaking in her boots. She started scanning the ground and collecting dry matter. Alator met my pace, shooting off two slingshot bullets as he ran, then pulled ahead towards it, making an arc to get to its side. Then I felt my blood turn to fire. It¡¯s been too long! My mind exploded in gratitude for the combat. Lenya has spoken of gods before. Is there a war god I can give glory to?! As a reflex, psychically, I plunged both hands into the stream of inner power. The improved [Battle Tactics] brought a stunning clarity which confirmed my plan ¡ª The tusks are flammable! ¡ª and [Vigour] pulsed through me, ridging the muscles in my arms and legs as I leapt at it. The thing¡¯s trunk twitched again and mid-gallop it turned as if on a top, rotated easily and maintained speed right at Alator. My savage companion set out at his receiving stance, legs wide, bare feet scraping through the dried thorns and leaves, arms up before him, eyes FLASHING yellow and smoke trailing off. The clash came suddenly. The THUD exploded through the clearing as the beast¡¯s skull met Alator¡¯s chest, sending him two yards back across the dirt, but stopping the thing. Instantly, through inertia rather than skill, its vine tusks slapped around his back, thorns tearing red lines into his back. With my Constitution, I was sure, That would have stripped flesh from bone. Alator raised an arm and the whole thing¡¯s bare skull was lit a dull gold and he brought his elbow down on the fiend. With a CRACK the skull dented in, thin fractures covering it. The demon elephant fell back half a step, and I reached it, thrusting my spear into its hide, bronze point piercing grey leather. It squirmed and raised its head, letting out an almighty hooting bellow, then levelled itself down again. With a horrible rush of air, its vine tusks took up and shot towards me. One wrapped around the thick Linothorax on my chest, the other like a whip moved lightning and entwined itself over my spear, covering half the haft. This is only Level 9?! // SYS : Creating new profile based on available parameters. Loading. // What?! A ripple like a wave passed down the vines as the Stranglethorn threw its head to smash into the ground. I reached deep but in the moment didn¡¯t have time to activate a Skill. I was whipped down and my face smacked hard against the dry earth and needles. I felt hot pain rush between my eyes and my mind flashed white as my nose crunched broken. Dazed and swallowing blood, I was vaguely aware of being lifted up to my feet again. A bellow sounded as the fiend brought itself back on its hind legs, preparing another slam. ¡°Oi! ¡¯rah! Wukka!¡± A shrieking call in a faltering voice brought all our attention back to the treeline. The fiend huffed and cocked its eyeless skull head as it turned. Drya was standing with a bundle of dry needles, leaves and small twigs. She held the small obsidian oval in her other hand and smashed it against the makeshift torch. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Fire erupted in her hand, and the fiend baulked instantly. It fell back a pace, trunk twitching and sniffing the burning pine in the air. It gave me a moment ¡ª deciding between my chest (protected) and the spear (my only weapon) ¡ª to pump [Vigour] and I tore at the vines with my fingers, eventually prying them from the haft of the spear. // SYS : Updated profile created. // My mind worked through the options. Was still taking too long. Wondered how many other wounds I could have avoided if I had quicker wits. Another decision to make: tear the vines off my chest and risk it charging and trampling me, or . . . Analysis.
Fiend : Stranglethorn (Ancient), Level 17
Stats : Str 26, Dex 14, Con 6, Mnd 1
XP : 167
// SYS : Talbot, I ¡ª// I¡¯ll deal with you later! We had no idea how the encounter with the Shadow Prowlers was going to go, so I didn¡¯t want to exert myself unduly. However, suddenly seeing that this thing was almost as strong as the Abominable that had almost killed me in a flash on my first day in Barbican, that was no longer an option. ¡°Alator!¡± I called. ¡°This thing is ¡ª¡± Suddenly the fiend snapped out of it. Its powerful legs moved it about easily, and it threw its head aside, launching me into the air, knocking the wind out of me. It had a roadmap of raised scars running over its back and sides, trophies from a lifetime of combat. I was pulled straight towards it, soaring. Alator FLASHED yellow and leapt up and into my path, and grabbed the thorned vine even as I was whipped forwards, wincing as the spikes dug into his skin. I crashed into his back and we fell to the ground. I righted myself and took my spear in both hands. The thing bellowed again, its one vine still about my chest, and threw its massive head back. The thorns tore from Alator¡¯s grasp and he grunted and held his wrist a moment, blood beading and dripping. Again I was thrown into the air over its back, but I was ready. A third [Vigour] made my muscles iron and I directed [Weapon Mastery : Precision Strike] to my shoulder. My spear thrust hard into its back, the bronze piercing deep against bone, sending shuddering friction up my arm but stopping my flight. My sandals landed heavy on its spine, the impact buckled my knees but I pulsed yet another [Vigour] to stay standing. I felt the sinews ache and my ankles accordion against the force. Then at that moment I heard Lenya call: ¡°[Flicker : Spark]!¡± Her hand exploded with a ripple of rose pink and poppy red and the air between her and the fiend danced with excitement, then, right at the base of its vine tusks, a flame was magicked into reality. In a moment, a lick of fire raced up the full length of the vines, blackening the thick haft of my spear and blazing around my waist. With the heat drying my eyes, I roared and took a heavy step forwards, even as the vine tusks whipped up and tried to throw me again. Between its efforts, I shocked [Vigour] again and again with every step until I found the base of its neck, just before the massive skull-like head. ¡°DIE!¡± I yelled, eyes mad and voice pure rage. As the vines weakened and became brittle with the flames, and as it bellowed fear and fury beneath me, with the compounded Skills, I wrenched my spear out of its spine and rose it in both hands, making to stab it back down. Before I could find proper footing, the thing heaved and leapt. Bellowing at the fire, vines fully ablaze, it launched itself with frightening, impossible power ten yards into the air, then came down fast and hard. I felt the weight of its barrel body smash into the ground, teeter on its legs, joints popping, and I was thrown to the hide. Grasping onto the mane, with the Skills still inflaming me, I managed just about to keep myself attached, but then I felt the same ripple of muscle against my body as it readied another jump, and the flaming vine, still tight around my chest, began to pull. Then Alator was in front of it, sweat turning to steam on his body, bursting into the air. With both hands he grasped the fiend¡¯s trunk. It squealed and simmered fury. Finally, the vine about my waist let up and both of them curled up into the air for a moment before whipping down at Alator. Back LASHED, Alator grunted, dug in his heels and leant back like tug o¡¯ war, eyes flashing yellow, smoke drifting up, and held the thing in place. As fast as I could, I righted myself, set both feet into divots on either side of its spine, and shoved the Bronze Spear of Blinding down again. The spearhead, flashing in the light of the flames, dug deep into the base of its neck. The Stranglethorn¡¯s trunk slapped up over it and walloped my back, but I just grunted against the pain and put my full weight into the spear, shoving it another few inches down, the bronze disappearing into a growing puddle of thick grey lifeblood. Then, with one colossal shudder and effort, I felt the spear break through something, and the fiend staggered, back legs buckling, let out one final death throe, and fell heavily beneath me. C54 : Jungle’s Heart Every muscle tensed and pulling against every other, I threw my head back and roared into the jungle. I hopped off the mound of dead hide and wobbled. My head felt like it was splitting, sharp copper taste in my mouth. I felt about my streaming nose and breathed a sigh of relief to find it luckily felt the same shape as ever. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I walked back to my companions. Alator was inspecting the wound on his hand, picking thorns out of the skin. We met eyes and shrugged at each other. Then the familiar grin split his face, showing the pointed wolf¡¯s fangs at the sides of his mouth, and he raised a hand. I gave him a high five. ¡°Absolutely brilliant, as always,¡± he said, complete warm forgiveness radiating. ¡°You¡¯re improving well.¡± Any tension between us evaporated and my chest swelled with the praise. Well that makes a change! Maybe it was just because I stood so upright in victory, but I noticed we weren¡¯t so different in height. I hadn¡¯t grown significantly, but my previous life had me hunched and slouching everywhere I went. Killing beasts is better than any chiropractor. Through the pain and panic, looking over wild, reckless Alator and the fearful looks on my other companions¡¯ faces, I reaffirmed my decision to enter the World Gate to Barbican. I pushed the butt of my spear steady into the dirt and lowered myself to the ground, leaning on it. I held my head back as the blood slowed from my nose. Alator stepped close to the Stranglethorn and inspected it. Lenya and Drya moved from the jungle¡¯s edge and crunched over the dry leaves towards us. ¡°D-dat was. . . .¡± the golden furred jungle-folk started, but trailed off. ¡°You said we¡¯d have . . . no chance of escaping,¡± I explained through sharp breaths. ¡°And it could . . . topple trees with its charge, so it made sense to . . . meet the Strangethorn in an open space where we could . . . at least manoeuvre.¡± ¡°Yes, it made sense,¡± Lenya mumbled. There was a fire burning in her eyes past her worry ¡ª I recognised the excitement she¡¯d shown before, kept down as if only by decorum. She held her staff to her breast. ¡°An impressive beast,¡± Alator said, looking at the fallen demon elephant warrior, then said aside to me, ¡°There was hesitation during the battle ¡ª something changed partway through.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I nodded. ¡°It was stronger than I first thought. I told you I could glimpse souls, read potential, ability and weaknesses . . .¡± I took a deep inhale and steadied my heart, steeled myself. ¡°. . . Seems it is still an imperfect power.¡± Lifting myself to my feet, I found the breather had helped. My vision no longer swam and my nose had slowed breathing to a trickle. I licked my lips and tugged up the collar of my tunic beneath the Linothorax and wiped my mouth, staining the off-white linen. ¡°Dis hide is valuable . . .¡± Drya said. She had straightened her back and was once again a hunter of the Wardship. ¡°Yes, but we do not have time. Its tusks are burnt beyond use, but it should have a heartseed buried deep. I will take that as spoils,¡± I grunted. I walked over to it and brought the Bronze Dagger from my belt, and with Alator¡¯s guidance, found the right place and carved into the carcass. Lenya¡¯s face went pale and she turned away, but Drya watched on without so much as a flinch ¡ª happily this sort of looting seemed quite acceptable.
Item : Stranglethorn Heartseed
Rarity : Rare
Description : Deep green, almond-sized natural power core of a great beast, pulsating with energy
Effect : With [Crafting], it can imbue the power of nature¡¯s wrath
Another enchantment ingredient, I thought. Turning it between my fingers, Drya was on tiptoes next to me gazing at it. I stashed it away. ¡°Never seen one such a deep green. . . . De men and women of da Shrewdship wear dem as jewels ¡ª it would fetch a great price.¡± You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. I stashed it away and looked over the treeline. The suns were high in the sky now, casting even the deepest green bright and shining, burning the glistening steam away. The jungle was alive and there was an anticipation in the air. ¡°We need to move, that would have drawn attention,¡± Alator said. He cast one more look over the Stranglethorn, almost in respect, then set back off towards the edge of the trees. Drya snapped out of her trance and bounded after him on all fours a few paces, then righted herself and led the way. Re-entering the jungle now the day¡¯s heat had truly set in was like walking out of winter cold into a heaving shop with the heating on full blast at the door. Sweat instantly burst out of every pore, my hand was greased on the spear, and my clothes were quickly damp with the humidity. Not too long had passed tamping heavily through ferns and avoiding coiled branches, hanging moss and vines when Drya stopped to let us catch up. She pointed out. Through the dim filtered light I could see the first of the Shadow Prowlers¡¯ breadcrumb signs: a large vulpine skull, stripped clean and bleached, was set on a carved totem dark wood totem pole. ¡°And dere¡¯s da next,¡± she said. Following her gaze ¡ª it took me a moment ¡ª I saw another in the steamy haze, almost claimed by the reaching undergrowth. ¡°This is where we part ways.¡± ¡°Will you be ¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, I can travel a lot faster than ya t¡¯rough dese jungles, and I certainly make much less noise than ya. See ya back at da Wardship!¡± We exchanged quick goodbyes and she raced off low, sometimes using her long arms to steady herself on the ground, almost completely silently. Within six seconds she was gone. The noises in the jungle seemed to press in. Without a guide, it suddenly felt extremely foreign and dangerous. Of course I¡¯d never visited the Mandated Jungle Area ¡ª the little that was left in the South Americas ¡ª my one permitted holiday each year hadn¡¯t taken me out of Europe, but from old nature documentaries this seemed just as oppressive and . . . wondrous as those that used to exist back on Earth. Glancing to both of my companions, we nodded, and set off along the trail of skulls. The trees, lichen, tall broken mossy stones ¡ª all closed in tighter as we pushed through. The dappled sunlight shifted like liquid gold as clouds of fat insects buzzed frantically around us. It was all loamy earth, decaying plants, the washing machine detergent sweet stink of enormous flowers. At one of the totems, Lenya stopped, chest heaving, and doubled over to her knees. I adjusted my damp and slick grip on my spear as I heard shifting leaves from the darkness, but nothing presented itself, and the noise was absorbed by the constant chittering of beasts. Analysis. Nothing. After a moment, she came back up. ¡°These totems are fresh,¡± she whispered. ¡°They¡¯re not just markers; the Shadow Prowlers are maintaining them.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a warning,¡± Alator said from behind us. He brushed a hand across the back of his neck and flicked away sweat. ¡°They do not want visitors,¡± Lenya nodded. ¡°We¡¯re walking right into their den,¡± I shrugged. ¡°Captain Paresh spoke very highly of the leader, we just need to hope we¡¯re not picked out as enemies by a scouting party first.¡± ¡°Killing a few of them would force them to take us more seriously,¡± Alator¡¯s voice was like granite. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s see to it that it doesn¡¯t come to that,¡± I rebuffed, waving a hand. Following the path of the skulls, they became more frequent, and each was more ornately displayed than the last. On one, a jaguar¡¯s skull hung from braided vines, knitted into the canopy above, eye sockets stuffed with vibrant red flowers. ¡°Picked less than a day ago,¡± Lenya said. The next was set atop a carved pedestal, the bas relief was of grotesque animalistic shapes. The stone was ancient, but the carvings were cleaned and maintained. After that, the ground sloped downwards, the ferns thinned and revealed exposed roots and patches of mud, and descending into a valley, the air became heavier still. The canopy thickened, blocking most of the light. After a mile, each step squelched into damp earth, and pulling my sandalled feet up, thick with muck, was an ordeal. I began to quietly urge [Vigour : Endurance] into my veins as I went, but after three, my heart was beating fit to burst and my mind was exploding with urge to action, my fingers twitching on the spear ¡ª Not enough exertion to justify the Skill, I thought. Even the wildlife faded ¡ª the place was hostile even to jungle dwellers. The noises drifted away and only the far echoes of birds of paradise calls and marsupial cries reached our ears. Then it came. CRACK. We all froze in place. I brought my spear up and out, head on a swivel. Lenya crouched low, her staff close, and her hand shimmered with drawn energy. Alator stood still, setting himself on a raised, drier patch of earth, and his eyes flashed yellow as he watched the periphery. The silence that followed was deafening. No animal sounds were heard, only the dripping of the last of the morning dew and early noon condensation from the leaves above. ¡°Keep moving,¡± I muttered, voice tight in my throat. We stepped forward cautiously, our damp footfalls suddenly terrifyingly loud. Then the shadows came alive. Whistling soared out and instinct had me flinch down a few inches. A tree¡¯s bark shattered next to my head, a lead sling-bullet lodged deep. I heard Alator grunt as one hit his shoulder, off-balanced, throwing one of his feet into the mucky puddle. Figures emerged from the undergrowth ¡ª half a dozen lean, sinewy jungle-folk with paint streaked across their faces, wearing animal skins. They each held ready a crude Bronze Dagger. Slingers must be waiting in the dark. There was one further moment of caution, and, words failing me, I put my hand out. To no avail ¡ª one of the attackers let out a shrill, ululating pant-hoot, and they all charged forwards, weapons raised. C55 : Skelth the Ruthless Stabbing forwards with the spear as warning, I fell back a yard and kept stepping backwards. ¡°Stop!¡± I yelled. With the scant moment, I put my finger to the Analysis Card. Only had time to glimpse the profile boxes of my attacker and one other.
Name : Akishen the Copper Fang, Shadow Prowlers Lieutenant, Level 12
Stats : Str 7, Dex 14, Con 6, Mnd 3
Skills : Herbalism Lvl 1 (Lvl 6) Survivalism Lvl 2 (Lvl 8) Vigour Lvl 2 (Lvl 4) Weapon Mastery Lvl 0 (Lvl 6)
Special : Quick Press
Inventory : Bone Whistle, Caltrops, Vine Rope, Waterskin
Weakness : Fearful for her father
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
Name : Grakha, Shadow Prowlers Underling, Level 4
Stats : Str 7, Dex 8, Con 4, Mnd 3
Special : Silent Step
Inventory : Bitterleaf Herb, Bone Lockpick, Bone Needle, Jungle Nuts
Weakness : Afraid to fight alone
Home : Mah¡¯drak, Barbican
Only furious eyes met me, and Akishen encroached, her movement lightning. Whipping the Bronze Dagger about with trained fingers, the jungle-folk bandit closed the distance again with a single push, ducking low beneath the spear. At a guess, I¡¯d say she had activated [Vigour] to move so quickly, or utilised that [Quick Press] Special ¡ª again I felt neurons firing in my improved Mind; the information came to me more easily. But knowledge wasn¡¯t enough right now! Right at my chest, her dagger lashed out. I gritted my teeth and pumped my own [Vigour] through my body. I felt the difficulty to reach the stream of my inner power grow; the small respite since the Stranglethorn was not enough. Wrenching my spear down, the haft thudded against her unarmoured clavicle, leaving a welt. She buckled under the weight, her knees shook, and her confident stab instead turned into a wild slash. My Linothorax took the brunt, but I felt a thin, hot cut in my side as the material frayed. With the Skill, and both hands on the spear, I bashed the thick haft of the spear into her chest, throwing her a few feet backwards. She landed light in the muck, her bare, long feet quickly finding purchase, as another combatant, the much less trained Grakha, leapt forwards. With the moment I managed to snap my spear back out and kept her at bay, and I called out again: ¡°Akishen! Grakha! Stop!¡± They did so, bodies still twitching. Behind me, an attacker instantly stopped moving towards Lenya, and Alator ceased his advance towards a line of thick bushes, where he must have guessed the slingers were hidden. ¡°How do ¡ª¡± Akishen said, her voice tinged sharp but faltering. ¡°Warden dog, wukka, how do you know our names?¡± ¡°Just stop! We¡¯re here to talk,¡± I barked. I took my spear in one fist close to me, and raised my other hand. Akishen¡¯s eyes narrowed, long canines bared. She was tall for a jungle-folk, over four feet ¡ª especially tall as the women were much smaller than the men. Her hair crowned her face bright orange and the rest of her fur was a dull brown and grew tight to her form. Her slim, straght nose was a startling pinkish red like a mandrill¡¯s and there were thin blue lines, very slightly indented, running from her eyes down to her lips, which moved with her cheeks as she spoke. ¡°So speak,¡± she said. Her dagger still glinted at the ready, but her mesmerising face calmed. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I breathed out and looked around. All of their pieced-together armour was adorned in a similar way to the bandit we encountered on the road before we arrived in Ith-Korr, the Enforcer Keth, with beast teeth and small talismans or other bone trinkets. Akishen, on the other hand, wore an impressive set of very fine bronze scales, all designed with motifs of Ith-Korr. Was she also in the Wardship before she defected? I asked myself. ¡°We are here to speak with General Skelth. Tilke and Keth have told us something which is very concerning for all Ith-Korr, and Wardship Captain Paresh wishes to put aside conflict to focus on the bigger picture.¡± As I rattled off all the names, I saw recognition for each one in Akishen¡¯s bright orange eyes, and slow thoughtfulness turned behind them. At length, she straightened her back and put her dagger back into a leather sheath on her belt. Next to it, there was an ornate scabbard, empty. She put a hand to her shoulder and winced at the pain. There was a discontented grumble about the bandits around her, but they all eventually sheathed their weapons as well. Three slingers, all jungle-folk and dressed the same way, stepped from the darkness. ¡°We¡¯ll let the general decide. Follow me,¡± she said, and turned, her short, stumpy, pink-furred tail flicking behind her. I shared a glance with Alator and Lenya, then followed. Grakha and the rest of the bandits flanked us and took up the rear. I felt their gazes trained on us, and their fingers continued to twitch about their weapons. We were led further into the jungle valley, the strange silence continuing, along a peculiar zig-zag path, avoiding known pitfalls or deeper marsh puddles. My nose still ached from the impact against the Stranglethorn, sharp pain shot through whenever I breathed through it, so my mouth lolled open and I swallowed the steam and fragrance of the jungle. After fifteen minutes or so, we pushed through tangled masses of briar and Akishen lifted a woven wall of pale green glowing vines and disappeared underneath. She called back: ¡°Come.¡± I stepped forwards and lifted the vines, and held them up as Lenya and Alator passed underneath, then followed. We stepped into a clearing of low-cut stumps. There were organic lean-to shelters and bothies of living wood clustered around large pits with the remains of camp fires. The skulls of beasts, familiar and alien to me, adorned the perimeter of the camp and each of the shelters as grim trophies. As we walked, she asked us our names. ¡°Alator of the Solar Wheel.¡± ¡°Lenya of the Hoary Gold.¡± ¡°Talbot,¡± I shrugged. Akishen led us through the centre and towards a narrow ditch flanked with sharpened stakes. Watchful eyes followed us, and curious whispers picked up everywhere in Vyneshi, the jungle-folk language. The bandits who had followed us dispersed amongst the rest and spread the word. The winding trail descended into a deep hollow, packed earth and tangled roots for walls, where a towering wooden platform loomed, draped in crimson banners. It was four yards on criss-crossed wooden stakes, and the walls of the ditch rose another two or so yards above it. A figure, silhouetted by the sun, sat atop the structure, perfectly still. He was cross-legged but appeared like a king upon a throne. The floor was damp soil, tamped flat, save for light footprints and strange divots that looked like someone had pushed a stick into the ground. Squinting upwards, I saw a pair of piercing bright orange eyes, almost radiant, open as we approached. Akishen dropped to one knee, and addressed the figure sitting atop the platform. She spoke in Vyneshi, but I heard our names as she introduced us, then Paresh¡¯s name as she explained why we had come. Then she stood, gave us a wary eye, and retreated away from the hollow to stand maybe ten yards back in the dark, damp earth. Not worried about Skelth¡¯s safety, it seems, I thought, my gaze still fixed on the figure above. Or else inexperienced and woefully underestimating us. Analysis.
Name : Skelth the Ruthless, Level 23
Stats : Str 2, Dex 3, Con 18, Mnd 7
Skills : Battle Tactics Lvl 6 (Lvl 6) Influence Lvl 1 (Lvl 5) Survivalism Lvl 3 (Lvl 3) Vigour Lvl 3 (Lvl 3) Weapon Mastery Lvl 2 (Lvl 2)
Inventory : Stranglethorn Heartseed
Weakness : Ear twitches before telling a lie
Home : Ith-Korr, Barbican
2 Strength and 3 Dex? . . . This man was a general in the army ¡ª he is either shockingly old, or massively weakened. Degenerating from the Secret? His other Stats aren¡¯t anything too impressive. . . . Or maybe I¡¯ve been thrown off by Alator. Level 6 [Battle Tactics]! I didn¡¯t get anything new from levelling [Vigour] to 3, so I¡¯m guessing you get a new active effect at each even level, at the most. I wonder what he¡¯s capable of. . . . Still silhouetted, with only his orange eyes visible within a halo of shadowed fur, he spoke the common tongue in a low growl ¡ª he had a thick accent but enunciated every word. ¡°Talbot, Lenya and Alator. Sent by Paresh, Wardship Captain of Ith-Korr. I am General Skelth, and you have been brought to my headquarters, where the last true loyalists of Ith-Korr reside.¡± I gulped. The deep voice was not entirely unwelcoming, but was commanding, and every word seemed a considered matter of fact. A zealot, I thought. ¡°We are grateful for your time, General,¡± Lenya said after a moment¡¯s silence ¡ª and down where we were, in the ditch in the camp in the valley, it was complete silence. She took a step forwards and lowered herself to both knees, straight-backed, placing her staff before her and both hands crossed over her heart. There was a preternatural elven grace in the way she held herself; it was as if addressing royalty was a practised act. ¡°We have come to extend the hand of peace. The Hanging City of Ith-Korr has withstood a tragedy, and all its people are called in this time of great misfortune to come home.¡± Her plea was emphatic, heartfelt, but there was no stirring atop the throne. Kelth still sat, the suns over his shoulder, shadowed between the high earthen walls. I felt the pressure of hovering my cursor over an imaginary Persuasion Check : 50% Chance of Success button. . . . Let¡¯s put all our cards on the table. ¡°Ward Captain Paresh told us that you have taken four wardens into your custody,¡± I said. ¡°He seeks their safe return.¡± ¡°They are prisoners of war ¡ª hostages in our civil conflict,¡± came the voice from above. A cloud, or perhaps a plume of smoke, blew softly over the suns and the light was diffused around him. I finally saw his features; very similar brown-orange fur as Akishen, his lieutenant who still stood behind us, quietly watching. He had also the same thin, reddish nose and blue lines, though his were like deep ridged wrinkles running down from his eyes, bent outwards to his upper lip. In fact his whole face was a mess of tired mess of wrinkles and old scars. Skelth even had the same orange eyes as Akishen, but his were weathered and dull, though fierce. To me, they could have been father and daughter. Her Weakness was referring to General Skelth, I realised. ¡°That war has become one-sided since Ith-Korr was decimated by the World-Eater,¡± Alator said. He stood proud beside me, arms crossed, barking up at the figure beneath a furrowed brow, leaning slightly backwards but not deigning to raise his head. ¡°Then the war is ours to win,¡± a short, flat pink tongue licked over his lips. Persuasion Check : Failed. C56 : Prisoners of War Lenya shrank down, her shoulders slumped, under the harsh tone of the general. ¡°There is no war,¡± I corrected him. ¡°Any political disagreements you might have had with them have gone out of the window. Ith-Korr lost one hundred souls, along with a great share of their wardens.¡± ¡°Your people now only claw at survival,¡± Alator added. The general above us clicked his teeth, then stifled a cough. Both age and weakness, maybe disease, I thought. ¡°We only ask for what is reasonable,¡± I tried to diffuse some tension. ¡°Wardship Captain Paresh asks for you to speak with him, or for you to send someone in your stead. The Hanging City welcomes you back.¡± Skelth grumbled, and a coughing fit took him that he couldn¡¯t suppress. The cloud moved past the suns and he was silhouetted again as his shoulders convulsed and he brought a hand up to his mouth. A half-step sounded from behind us as Akishen must have instinctively moved closer to try to comfort her father. Almost imperceptibly, the tiniest hint of a breeze passed through the carved canyon, and very small loose stones rolled lazily towards Lenya. Looking to her where she knelt, her voice came to me as a faint whisper, though her mouth did not move: ¡®Coughing blood.¡¯ ¡°It is we who chose to depart from Ith-Korr, for the city has turned its back on its people.¡± He¡¯s talking about the Secret, their degradation. I decided to press once further, taking a step towards the platform. I heard another shuffle from behind as Akishen moved, but stopped herself once more. ¡°Do not let your family and people suffer in civil conflict. Much more is now at stake.¡± The words were swallowed by the walls, but I felt Skelth bristle, then relax, and breathe out a long sigh. ¡°I will not release the hostages. There are some of our people who have been taken by Ith-Korr lately ¡ª I would see them returned in exchange.¡± Of course. . . . Didn¡¯t think about a prisoner exchange. Wonder if he¡¯s talking about Keth and Ja¡¯ram, I thought. They were the two bandits we met before entering the city; their bounty had paid for the Linothorax I still wore. ¡°It would at least put Paresh¡¯s mind at ease if we could confirm their safety,¡± Lenya said, raising her head again and replacing her hands over her heart. The silhouetted Skelth pondered for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Akishen,¡± he said. ¡°Yes, General,¡± came the brief response, then Akishen passed us and leapt up and climbed the criss-crossed wooden stakes that made up the high wooden platform. She moved very easily upwards, then when she was aloft, she picked up her father and dropped lithely from the platform. He steadied himself on a simple walking stick, and walked up to us. Explains the divots in the ground, I thought, a bit embarrassed with myself. ¡°I will lead. Follow.¡± Moving slowly, we passed along the trench until we came up into the camp clearing, and then directly to one side. We passed some cabins and lean-tos on the way. Approaching noon, in the full light of the suns for the first time since the Boiling Sea, I felt a welcome and soothing warmth. As we walked, Akishen stated: ¡°When we met you sneaking into our territory, you knew our names,¡± her orange eyes were piercing, watching with all the intensity of an inquisitor. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°The Wardship gave us all the information they could.¡± ¡°Information gained under torture?¡± Her face darkened. ¡°Not that I know of,¡± I shrugged, again trying to calm her. I remembered that Drya said she had overheard the tip about the Crimson Crown from a jungle-folk man named Tilke. Being paraded through a bandit¡¯s encampment was sending volts through my body, but I steadied my voice. ¡°With how many people you¡¯re recruiting, you¡¯ve picked up a few talkers. Get a bit of mibege in them and they turn into blabbermouths.¡± I saw a flash of irritation in her eyes, then she grunted and took up pace to Skelth¡¯s side. He took her hand in his as he walked heavily on one side, limping, possibly from an old wound, or something else. . . . Lenya came to my side, and again I felt that extremely faint rush of magic. If I hadn¡¯t experienced it minutes before in perfect silence and concentration, I definitely wouldn¡¯t have noticed it while walking. Her voice came to me like her lips were brushing my ear: ¡®That look was concern. She is wondering how much her goon divulged.¡¯ They know about the Crimson Crown, I thought. Drya¡¯s man was not lying. ¡®That¡¯s right,¡¯ came Lenya¡¯s reply. The magic faded and she slowed her pace to stand between Alator and myself. Great, I thought, Another person who can read my mind. . . . She gave a half smile. Passing underneath the wall of woven vines, we followed Skelth and Akishen through the jungle valley. Again, they took a practised route, until eventually we came to a dense copse covered with another blanket of woven vines. Like the wall around the camp, in the jungle it would have been difficult to tell that this was man-made ¡ª they had done a good job of hiding their camp, which I suppose was necessary, considering they¡¯d left breadcrumbs for others to find it. Akishen pulled the vines up and her father ducked underneath them, and we followed before she dropped it behind us. Before us was a small, completely enclosed area, with a cage. Through the gaps in the holywood prison bars, I could see four jungle-folk, stripped down to loincloths and wrappings, huddled together. The warden prisoners flinched and started as we entered, but then groaned at the effort. None of them even made it to their feet, and any words or pleas that came from their lips came only as stumbling raspy intakes of breath. ¡°Skelth! Who are¡ª are we being set free?¡± ¡°Not unless we come to an accord,¡± Skelth spat. Akishen hushed them. ¡°All present and accounted for,¡± he said, throwing a hand out. Looking over them, I saw some heavy wounds, bandaged and treated, on their way to healing, but also much more recent wounds; bruises, light cuts, welts on wrists where vines would have cut into them, and patches of fur missing from their bodies that looked like it had been torn out as part of some torture. My blood rose, and keeping the Warrior¡¯s urge down became extremely difficult. I felt my fingers twitching to my weapon, my face splitting in that ugly grin. Then I felt a heavy, steady hand on my shoulder. ¡°Thank you for showing us,¡± Alator said. Breathing through gritted teeth, I stamped my foot and brought myself down. I turned my eyes away from the broken forms of the wardens. First time being talked down by Alator, I reflected. The Warrior¡¯s change ¡ª if there is such a thing ¡ª has not relented. ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough,¡± I barked. ¡°Send a runner to talk to the Wardship Captain to discuss the prisoner transfer, at least. Consider your relationship to your beloved city going forwards.¡± Skelth¡¯s eyes narrowed as he studied my words and face, but he nodded. ¡°Lieutenant Akishen, if you are willing, you can return with them and talk to Paresh on my behalf.¡± Good outcome, I thought, but not what we came here for. Back out of the small cage glade, I breathed in the steam and tried to set my thoughts in order. The rising blood and the heat itched my wounded nose, and I tasted a thin line of blood. The situation was electric. Every instinct sent barbed thorns through me, telling me to leave. It had felt nice doing something off my own initiative for once. To lament ever so briefly on my old life, I had swanned gracelessly from school to NEETdom to an awful job I hated, never in charge of my own life, never taking the wheel of my destiny. Even on Barbican, it had been similar. Kikiara had told me where to go first, then Alator had made my decisions with me, then SYS had directed me towards Akhur¡¯shet, Zhai-Khul and Ith-Korr ¡ª this was my decision. Paresh hadn¡¯t asked me to do this (though he had wanted to). I needed to see this through. And as much as I hate to admit it, Alator is right. This is not a good use of our time. The World-Eater has moved. We need to pick up the pace. . . . They¡¯re free to hate me. I NEED TO ACT. Passing underneath a low bough, I glanced back to see Alator right behind me, Akishen four paces further, and Lenya behind her. Through the darkness, Lenya¡¯s keen eyes saw the energy in mine. I nodded sharply, and she twisted the grip on her staff and braced. C57 : Patha and Anareth I urged my legs on, GO! and pumped [Vigour] through my muscles to leap to Skelth¡¯s side. Alator acted less than a moment after me, in silence, and before Akishen had time to turn, he had collided with her side, sending her sprawling away. I grabbed both of Skelth¡¯s arms, twisted him, and pressed them, crossed, into the small of his back. ¡°You¡ª GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM!¡± Akishen shouted, leaping to her feet. The Bronze Dagger flashed as she pulled it out of her belt, but even through the red mist of her vision, she saw Alator standing before her, eyes flashing and trails of smoke rising from the corners of his eyes, and just gritted her fanged teeth. I leant down and put my head close to Skelth¡¯s, and whispered: ¡°No calling. You will give us answers.¡± I felt an assenting nod come which didn¡¯t quite move his head. The arms tight behind his back struggled against my grip for a moment, but it was strengthless. Without the walking stick, he swayed where he stood, and after a moment fell back against my waist. In youth, he must have been even taller than Paresh, but now he was a frail man, standing bent smaller than his daughter. ¡°Lenya,¡± I barked. ¡°Be ready to get the truth out of him.¡± Akishen¡¯s mouth chattered and her eyes glowed hate as I lowered Skelth to the damp jungle floor. He sat heavily and groaned pain, shaking out his arms then pushing one fist into his lower back. ¡°What do you know of the Crimson Crown?¡± His eyes widened, and he glanced to Akishen, who bristled and dropped her rage a tad. ¡°We know what they are, and that they are far away, in Uruk.¡± As he spoke, one of his small, pale, pointed ears twitched, as his Weakness said it would. ¡°You¡¯re not telling me the whole truth. We have ways to force that ¡ª but I would highly recommend not putting yourself through the pain.¡± He dropped his gaze in recognition ¡ª he¡¯d felt the [Command] magic before. ¡°Patha, just tell them.¡± Looking up with pain to his daughter, he spoke slowly to his daughter, ¡°There are things I didn¡¯t tell you, anareth.¡± Wracked again with a short coughing fit, he doubled over and brushed his face, bloodying the leathery skin on his hand, then turned to me. ¡°Talbot, you said your name was. Are you one of them?¡± As he said it, an intensity took over his face like an exertion of great effort, as if activating a Skill. ¡°No,¡± I replied simply. Skelth breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Then we are still safe. . . . The Crimson Crown are the true power behind Uruk, and many places far beyond. King Gilgamesh is a figurehead, nothing more, as I¡¯m sure you know, and Vath-Erta, their council, ostensibly hold power. However, behind them, the Crimson Crown pulls the strings.¡± What do I care about the high politics of Barbican? I thought. Our charge, destroying the World-Eater, is surely way beyond political squabbling. . . . No, perhaps that¡¯s na?ve. . . . A shiver was sent down my spine as I thought of the sudden immensity of the issue before us. ¡°Keep going,¡± I ordered, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder. He didn¡¯t flinch at the hand, I didn¡¯t have a sense we were intimidating him at all, but he answered willingly. Seems like he¡¯s been wanting to get this off his chest for some time. ¡°It started a few months ago. We came upon some travellers on the road, a gilded wagon, pulled by ruby-furred goats, more food than they could have consumed in a month ¡ª seemed an easy mark.¡± ¡°But they proved too powerful?¡± Lenya asked. ¡°Oh, no, no, there were no Crownsmen there, thankfully, haku-nai. No, we took what we needed,¡± Skelth smiled grimly. ¡°Still a sizeable wagon, laden with much to trade. It was the sponsor of that excursion that knew a member of the Crimson Crown in Uruk. . . . They sent two men, felid-folk both, and they . . . sent us a message ¡ª loud and clear. Since then, they expect regular updates in person regarding Ith-Korr and whatever else we learn about the towns on the Boiling Sea. Akishen goes often, as do a few others. The journey to Uruk is long up the Trade Road over the mountains, so much so that our messengers often pass each other. I see very little of my daughter nowadays. . . .¡± He trailed off, all of a sudden an old man, guilty and morose, looking at his daughter with wet eyes, wheezing, wondering where all the time had gone. Akishen¡¯s edge fell away from her fully, seeing the sudden trust her father was showing, and a tear came to her own eye, which she fervently brushed away. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. I stood and walked to his front. ¡°And they told you of the coming Scouring of Ith-Korr?¡± Skelth nodded. ¡°A talent of my daughter¡¯s ¡ª to become unnoticed in shadows. Before a meeting in Uruk, she overheard a conversation she was not supposed to.¡± ¡°And you did not warn the city wardens?¡± ¡°If the Crimson Crown had divined that we had let sensitive information slip to the Hanging City, they would have razed our camp, and the city, to the ground. Besides,¡± he winced and moved himself into a more comfortable sitting position, ¡°The people of Ith-Korr are cursed due to their complacency.¡± In a moment of idiocy, I shared a glance with Lenya, who wore a practiced confused expression. ¡°Paresh told you,¡± Skelth guessed. ¡°The fool. I suppose he still awaits the Shrewdship to come up with some magical cure!¡± Despite the situation he was in ¡ª despite the wolven beast of a man staring down his daughter, despite the magic-user beside him threatening psychological torture, despite the erratic warrior with his hand on his shoulder ¡ª despite all this, Skelth laughed full-bellied, then broke into another coughing fit, blood spattering the leaves by his feet. ¡°Patha . . .¡± breathed Akishen. He held up a hand. ¡°I¡¯m fine, anareth. If I didn¡¯t laugh, I think I¡¯d fully lose myself in the bleakness.¡± Alator turned aside and spoke to us over his shoulder, one eye still on Akishen: ¡°I have witnessed the worst of the horrors of war,¡± he spoke with rumbling grit, ¡°But it has never failed to steel a people.¡± War. . . . Maybe it was the Warrior mindscape eating into my own, or perhaps it was all the action films I used to watch, but the word didn¡¯t scare me. In fact, I felt brazen. I threw my hands up in the air. ¡°Everything is so complicated! Well, there¡¯s the why, at least! You¡¯re despicable, and you¡¯re a coward.¡± The words were eaten by the jungle, but not before they prickled Akishen¡¯s nerves to breaking. ¡°You fiend!¡± she called as a war-cry and leapt forwards. Alator caught her jaw in his grip before she passed him and he threw her to the ground, then knelt beside her, a hand hovering over her throat. She moved to struggle but met his eyes and relented, and showed him her long palms. Immediately after the gesture, he stood and helped her back up. She went to her father and held her hand against his cheek. ¡°Who are you people?¡± I couldn¡¯t help myself. ¡°We¡¯re the Warriors of the Gods, and you¡¯ve allied yourselves with the villains.¡± A bloated, stunned moment passed. Skelth¡¯s eyes were wide, making sense of the situation. Then he lowered his gaze and the deep blue lines on his face twitched as he held back a snigger. ¡°Warriors of the Gods. . . .¡± Akishen said. Where I wanted awe, her eyes were narrowed and suspicious ¡ª even mocking. Not the response I had in mind. . . . But I guess at least I¡¯ve lessened the tension. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll bite,¡± Skelth said, his voice a little more playful. ¡°Look, our people are degenerating,¡± Skelth put one finger to his temple. ¡°Losing ourselves. This has happened to our people before. The Coven of Mah¡¯drac keeps the scrolls, and tells us that our ancestors took to sleeping in trees and eating carrion, before war came, and we once again remembered who we are.¡± ¡°That can¡¯t be the only way,¡± I huffed. ¡°It¡¯s the only one we can think of,¡± Akishen said. ¡°Then it¡¯s folly,¡± Alator barked. He took a step forwards and held his arms out. A sudden burst of wind split the canopy and the faint golden filigree that runs from his fingers glinted in the light of the suns. ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough of this World to judge it. You won¡¯t enjoy a war with the World-Eater; only a massacre.¡± ¡°You have not witnessed the power of the Bannermen of Uruk,¡± the general smiled and met his gaze. ¡°By bringing Ith-Korr back to glory, and keeping the Crimson Crown on side, we will have an alliance the likes of which has never been seen.¡± Alator scoffed and turned away. The conversation had gotten away from me. My mind drifted to Jiriam and Luka, the mother and son we saved from the vampyri during the Scouring, and back to Keza at the Woven Vine tavern. This is ridiculous, my thoughts burned. These people flitter about, thinking of grand change far off in the future. Glancing to Lenya, I saw her eyes glazed over in thought, brow furrowed, wrestling with the implications and trying in vain to imagine a way forwards for everyone involved. That¡¯s not the way. I gritted my teeth. What can we do right now? We know nothing about the Crimson Crown. We know nothing about Uruk. We know so little about the World-Eater save for Alator¡¯s vague fearmongering. I . . . I was going to start putting mental effort into the plight of the Hanging City and its people, but some unconscious calculation stopped me, and I remembered SYS¡¯s promise that, after this world, Earth could be next. This isn¡¯t my fight. Looking at Alator, the shape of his massive back, the strength in his shoulders and thighs, the energy in his whole body, I wondered if he had all these same thoughts. ¡°Do what you must,¡± I eventually blurted out. Lenya gasped, and Skelth and Akishen looked up to me standing above them. ¡°But you¡¯ll assist us first. Akishen, you are to return with us and speak to Captain Paresh. Tell him enough of what is going on so that he doesn¡¯t throw another platoon of wardens at you. Try for your prisoner exchange. Then . . . you are to escort us to Uruk.¡± She glanced between me and her father. General Skelth¡¯s ancient visage took on the look of a father protecting his daughter from a foul suitor. ¡°And if we refuse?¡± In answer, I just kept my eyes locked on his. Effort shuddered over Skelth¡¯s face and his lip trembled. Activating a Skill, I thought. That high-level [Battle Tactics], I presume? I wonder what he can see. I clenched my fist around the Bronze Spear of Blinding, but did nothing more. ¡°You¡¯re a fiend,¡± Akishen repeated, under her breath. After another moment, Skelth shirked my threat and looked to his daughter sadly, and nodded. ¡°Bring us to the meeting place with the Crimson Crown,¡± I commanded. ¡°Then you can go off and play bandit to your heart¡¯s content.¡± They¡¯re free to hate me, I thought again. C58 : Akishen the Copper Fang Returning to the Shadow Prowlers¡¯ encampment, Skelth and Akishen remained stern and quiet, and pointed us to an area for us to rest while Akishen prepared for the journey ¡ª first the optimistic diplomatic route to Ith-Korr, where she would discuss any possible amicable way forwards between the Shadow Prowlers and the Hanging City, then with Alator, Lenya and I to Uruk, where she would point us to the Crimson Crown. I lowered myself to a stump and checked my body. I felt a touch better getting the frustration out of my system, but still had a foul taste in my mouth after seeing the prisoners. The rest of the jungle-folk in the camp didn¡¯t know what had occurred, but got enough of the vibe to shoot us ugly looks and a good few obscene gestures ¡ª at least, gestures which I presume are obscene. A lot of them tapped themselves on the head and then stamped their foot. Jove knows what that means. . . . I just smiled back, feeling belligerent. It had been a while since I¡¯d looked at Alator¡¯s stats, so I looked over to where he was sitting on the ground and fingered the Analysis Card.
Name : Alator of the Wheel of the Sun, Level ?
Stats : Str 66, Dex ?, Con 28, Mnd 26
Skills : Battle Tactics Lvl 10 (Lvl 10) Influence Lvl 9 (Lvl 10) Survivalism Lvl 10 (Lvl 10) Vigour Lvl 10 (Lvl 10) Weapon Mastery Lvl 10 (Lvl 10)
Special : Solar Flare
Weakness : Raging pride
Home : ?
Another question mark down! Such a massive Mind Stat . . . He could stand to use that more often. I was sure all his Skills previously had been at Level 10 . . . SYS, has his [Influence] dropped due to underuse? // SYS : Correct. The same should be happening to you ¡ª especially so for the Skills that are yet unearned ¡ª however, I can¡¯t see that any have decreased since you¡¯ve been here. . . . The same goes for your Stats, as we discussed previously, but somehow your Mind remains at four. // Five, actually. // SYS : Might as well be minus six. // Good one. The Solar Flare is what we witnessed during the Voracious Vampyri fight, I know that. A small part of my upgraded Mind then tried unbidden and in vain to find ways to exploit his Weakness, but I pushed it away. // SYS : You gained 56 XP for defeating the Stranglethorn. You now have 118 and need 137 total for the next Level. // Fifty-six? So an assist three ways further splits it. // SYS : Yes, of course. And you took the remainder from the odd number for making the final blow. Further, your use of [Vigour] has upgraded the Skill to Level 3. // As I suspected, there¡¯s no new ability on odd levels. I considered asking SYS for more spoilers ¡ª for more information on the higher levels, but I decided against it. I guess for all the danger and viscerality of this World, I still have the heart of a gamer! The familiar text boxes hovered around the rebels¡¯ heads as I touched the Analysis Card, and with a dozen or so popping up at once, my vision tunnelled for a moment and my head fell forwards as a wave of exhaustion hit me. Got to be careful using this on a packed street! I¡¯d probably pass out. Couldn¡¯t you have found one that didn¡¯t tire me out? You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. // SYS : The energy has to come from somewhere, Talbot. I can always take it out of your Experience, if you¡¯d like. // No, thanks. I felt a light hand on my shoulder as Lenya stepped over the stump and sat beside me, her robes almost touching my hip. The breeze as she passed was momentarily sweet, like spiced vanilla and pine, with a very faint sweaty musk from tramping through the jungle. She looked like she was struggling to speak. She fussed over the placement of her jewellery; she set the tear-shaped black and gold chalcedony trinket to the centre of her brow and adjusted her carnelian earrings. She lightly bit her lip in thought, her sparkling grey eyes inspecting the damp ground at her feet. ¡°Beautiful. . . .¡± I whispered, then hasted to add, ¡°Your gold.¡± ¡°They¡¯re heirlooms,¡± she said with a very slight flush, and her consternation dissipated. ¡°Passed down, mother to daughter, sage to sage.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it dangerous, or a bit . . . silly to wear them?¡± She leant back on the stump and looked to the noon sky, with her arms behind her back. ¡°They focus my magic. But more than that . . . I considered for a moment hiding them, especially in Ith-Korr, but my pride would not allow it. You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡± I just sighed. She¡¯s opening up, little by little, I thought. Presently, Akishen appeared out of one of the log cabins. She shouldered a vine net sack tied about a spear a bit like a Roman legionnaire¡¯s marching pole. I saw then the ornate hilt and crossguard of a short bronze sword was now slotted into the scabbard that swayed at her hip. Curious, I touched the Analysis Card.
Inventory : Boar Jerky, Bone Whistle, Caltrops, Firestarter, Goatskin, Jungle Nuts, Waterskin
From what I could tell, the Inventory section only included the contents of containers, not individual items worn or held. Her pouch was still likely unchanged, so the bag must hold the new travelling stuff. Can¡¯t tell what the sword is. I felt the mental shrug of a non-response come from SYS, so assumed it was something I¡¯d have to work out for myself. She didn¡¯t meet our eye as she approached, then stamped her foot. ¡°I have prepared myself, and have provisions for the journey to Ith-Korr and then to Uruk. I will not share. Do not burden me and we¡¯ll not come to any difficulties.¡± Seems Akishen never learnt to share, either. A quiet chuckle came from my side. Lenya was still reading my mind. I shot her a glance and she turned away, red faced. Got to be more careful with my thoughts. ¡®Worried I¡¯ll hear something I shouldn¡¯t?¡¯ Lenya, that¡¯s enough. ¡®You really should have more of a grasp over your own thoughts, anyway.¡¯ She huffed and, though I hadn¡¯t felt the magic grow, I suddenly felt a slight change in the air as it dissipated. How much had she heard? Can she hear SYS in my mind as well? I¡¯m going to assume not, so I¡¯ll just try to make my own internal monologue more vague. . . . After a little more discussion, and Akishen bidding farewell to a few of her Shadow Prowler bandit friends, we set off under the woven vine blanket that hid their encampment, and through the silent valley, heading upwards towards the jungle proper. Akishen moved easily through over the undergrowth and past the trees, as Drya had done, touching the odd tree and moving whipping branches or matted hanging moss aside easily and silently. Her movement was fluid, she met the jungle¡¯s ebb and flow, More often than once a branch snapped back and hit me in the chest or arm. She giggled each time at my complaints. ¡°Keep up, outsider. This isn¡¯t one of your cities of straight roads and stone walls. The jungle will chews up and spits out those who don¡¯t respect her.¡± I swallowed my irritation and fell back a few paces to let her lead. Alator trudged on with a weary sigh behind me, and I heard Lenya, behind him, whisper something sharp in her native tongue, eyes narrowed, gaze buried into the back of Akishen¡¯s head. Pausing by a tree with roots that twisted into the air like claws, Akishen gestured upwards. ¡°See that resin? Yellow, dripping slow.¡± In a few bounds, using hands and feet, she gripped onto one of the higher branches and picked off a small amount with one fingernail, then dropped back down to the ground. ¡°This is agara. Very rare, smells ¡ª¡± she held it to her thin red nose and breathed in deeply, ¡°¡ª lovely, and good for sealing wounds, but its real use is baiting Drakotha.¡± ¡°Drakotha?¡± Lenya asked, frowning. Akishen turned, one brow arched. Her attitude seemed a bit more playful, definitely more at ease now we were deep under the canopy. ¡°You haven¡¯t heard? They¡¯re new, born from some sort of corruption seeping into the jungle. From their look, they¡¯re a mix of monitor lizard, hornbill, and something else infernal from the Breathing Sands. They hunt silently, climbing trees with talons that can shear bronze. If you¡¯re lucky, you¡¯ll hear the wet scrape of their tongues before they drop onto you. Like THIS.¡± And she leapt at Lenya, who gasped and fell onto her back foot. Akishen laughed a tinkling, if a little cruel, laugh. Acting her age the first time I¡¯ve seen, I thought. Her age? She can¡¯t be any older than 18. I wonder if she¡¯s been living this hard bandit way in this jungle her whole life. . . . ¡°Sounds delightful,¡± I muttered. Corruption in the jungle. . . . The mandrill-like smirk widened and she turned to me. ¡°It¡¯s no idle tale. A group of them brought down a whole warden patrol last season. We picked up the scraps. They survived, it seemed, though they left behind an arm or two.¡± ¡°Why hasn¡¯t anyone culled the Drakotha?¡± Alator asked, cracking his knuckles. She glanced at him, shuddered for a moment and his intensity. ¡°They¡¯re too clever,¡± she shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t lair, hardly leave any tracks. They¡¯re jungle-born predators; the purest form of survival.¡± Her tone carried a grim pride, then she caught herself and seemed to take stock of the situation she was in, and wore a scowl again. ¡°So tread lightly, outsiders. The jungle¡¯s not forgiving. And neither am I.¡± C59 : Common Ground The jungle closed in tighter again as we pressed, the canopy at most parts entirely oppressing light to thin beams that never reached the ground, even at noon. Massive green and blue leaves swamped our sight in every direction; as soon as we pushed through a wall of wet stalks, our path was swallowed up again. More than once we entirely lost sight of each other, and had to call out to locate each other. ¡°Should we be mimicking animal calls or something?¡± I asked Akishen between heavy breaths, when we were paused one of the times the others were separated from us. She giggled. ¡°No, that doesn¡¯t work. We have no hope of adequately mimicking birds, and if we mimicked one of the smaller animals, it would only attract others higher up the food chain.¡± ¡°And if we mimicked a Stranglethorn or something?¡± At that, she laughed. Her lower lip, thick and red, quivered as she controlled herself and tried to resume her serious expression. ¡°Give me your best Stranglethorn.¡± I cleared my throat and tried to imagine a big trunk coming out of my nose, my head an enormous skull, and thought back to the fight. It had done a sort of hooting bellow, but there was an odd growl in there as well, like a cross between an elephant and a jungle cat. I filled my lungs with air, then, looking at Akishen¡¯s wry smile and anticipation, I let it back out silently. ¡°On second thoughts, maybe not. . . .¡± She nodded. A few moments later, Lenya and Alator found us. The hems of Lenya¡¯s robes were torn to shreds, absolutely in tatters, and covered in thick dark mud. She bunched them up around her thighs and tied them with a thin leather cord. Wow, her . . . Not the time, Talbot! . . . Wait, did she hear that? I peered at her face between her plaits, but she finished her work and looked up at me oblivious. Phew. ¡°Do you all need to take a break?¡± Akishen asked. Alator and I looked at each other and then to Lenya, but before we could answer, Lenya barked, ¡°No,¡± and we carried on. Akishen led with purpose, her shoulders squared. Her confidence was intensely annoying, as had Keza¡¯s been, but also quite fascinating and reassuring; she moved with the ease of someone utterly at home. I wonder how long their people lived in these jungles before constructing Ith-Korr. A few times I tried to get the attention of my companions. Alator¡¯s head was on a swivel, and every ten minutes or so his irises glowed gold and his eyes let off a little drift of yellow smoke as he activated his body¡¯s form of [Survivalism]. I wondered whether having that ability would make one more or less on-edge walking through the jungle; sure, you¡¯d know for sure whether you were about to be ambushed or not, but you would be painfully aware of all threats around you, even minor ones, or ones too far away to bother you. Sort of like learning there¡¯s a kitchen tile out of place behind the fridge ¡ª if you¡¯d have never known, you¡¯d never have cared. . . . Lenya on the other hand intentionally shirked my gaze. I could tell she had wanted to talk about something more serious when she had approached me at the camp, but I¡¯d wanted to put anything off that would have ended in any public displays, as me raising my voice or her chastising me would have weakened our position there. I did wonder whether we could have left that place in one piece if all had gone south. What if we¡¯d had more of an escort, or even people following in the shadows, like those slingers, when we¡¯d visited the prisoners? What if they¡¯d lured us back to their hideout as an ambush? We were rushing into things . . . and I saw no possible other way forward. There had been maybe three dozen of them in the camp, and probably others on patrol ready to return, or on the outskirts watching for fiends or incursions. Well, Alator would have made it out, I guessed. Keeping Akishen¡¯s pace (mostly), we got back to the trade road and emerged out of the jungle to see Ith-Korr towering above. She took a moment to steady herself before walking forwards. As the suns started to dip, the wardens greeted us from the wall and peered down suspiciously at the Shadow Prowler. ¡°Who¡¯s that you have with you?¡± ¡°Emissary from the Shadow Prowlers, Lieutenant Akishen,¡± I said. ¡°Wardship Captain Paresh has granted them entry for an audience.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°You speak funny,¡± the warden said, and waved us on. We were geared up on the wooden lift all the way to the lowest tier of the Hanging City, built on enormous wooden planks around a copse of ginormous redwoods, kept aloft by the gently glowing light green vines which shifted and undulated (though much less currently). Our destination was the Wardship, and we passed through some of the less populated areas, with Alator and I leading the way and Lenya sandwiching Akishen. No one gave too much thought to Akishen as we passed ¡ª they would not know her face, to be sure ¡ª but they did inspect the strange jaguar teeth and talismans stitched into her lithe leather armour. A few people did wave at us as we passed, and I sheepishly waved back, before taking a deep breath in and meeting everyone with a raised head. ¡°The Hero of the Dwellship!¡± some called. ¡°Talbot of the Flying Spear!¡± Yeah, I could get used to this. . . . Better not, though. . . . Even Akishen couldn¡¯t help but give an approving, almost impressed, look whenever we were recognised, but she swiftly turned it to a disdainful scoff when I turned to gloat. We passed through the fortified entrance to the barracks and Teera, the old grey-furred bookkeeper, greeted us and sent us straight through the main room to Paresh¡¯s office. Inside, Akishen stood tall (as tall as she could), and met him with a dirty look. I wonder what stories Skelth has told her of the wardens. Paresh cleared his throat and piped up: ¡°Greetings, I am Ward Captain Paresh. Forgive me, I do not think we¡¯ve ever had the pleasure.¡± ¡°It is no pleasure,¡± Akishen uttered, bluntly. ¡°I am of the Shadow Prowlers. I will hear what you have to say.¡± At length, Paresh sighed and nodded, then moved past her to the door where we were waiting and addressed us: ¡°Do you mind leaving us to it? Please return in an hour or so for debriefing.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± I nodded, and leant in to whisper, ¡°This is Akishen, daughter of Skelth. She is also his lieutenant of sorts. They agreed to this meeting under some duress. To avail you as much as possible of the facts, the wardens are all alive, but they have been . . . treated terribly.¡± A flick of fire took to the deep amber point of light in the captain¡¯s eyes. He clenched his fists. ¡°They seek the return of their own, and then she is to escort us to Uruk, where she can point us to a member of the Crimson Crown.¡± ¡°I will tread lightly,¡± he whispered back, understanding my meaning. I straightened up. ¡°Thank you, Wardship Captain Paresh, I will see you in one hour,¡± I spoke in a slightly raised voice and we all took our leave. Without anything else to do, we climbed the treacherous rise rope ladder to the next tier and mulled about the Woven Vine. Keza and Brekis made us feel at home, as always, and set us up with a hearty late lunch and fresh cucumber water. Afterwards, we carried our chairs outside and set them up by the edge of the tier, facing the bannisters, looking over the jungle far below to the west, out over the trade route, which twisted and turned and disappeared into a sparkling mountain range on the horizon. The suns had made it over the apex of the redwoods but had not yet dipped enough to shed much light directly onto each tier, so we sat in the breezy shade. Alator leant back in his chair with his ankles resting on the low bannister and closed his eyes. I felt the twitching energy in him still slightly, and I¡¯m fairly certain he drifted off into a little catnap. Lenya had a far-off look to her, her bright grey eyes, lit as if by starlight, stared out at a distant point in the mountains, unchangeable. The wind rustled her unkempt auburn plaits and tinkled the golden bee earrings she wore, and sent a little shiver down her spire. At length, she turned to me to find me staring at her, and her wistful gaze hardened. ¡°You threatened them,¡± she declared suddenly with a stern tone. ¡°That was unsightly. And you used me in your ploy. They showed us no ill will before that.¡± ¡°Lenya,¡± I lowered my voice. I¡¯d expected this complaint. ¡°I¡¯ll not be party to that sort of underhandedness. It was a struggle forcing the desert-folk man to speak when he didn¡¯t want to, as there was no danger from him.¡± Wonder if it¡¯s just her morals, or if there¡¯s actually some difficulty in using her magic that way. Ultimately, it doesn¡¯t matter. . . . ¡°Alator and I have been tasked with destroying the World-Eater,¡± I muttered quickly. ¡°I¡¯m still coming to grips with just how big a task that is, and holding onto what morals I have left ¡ª you¡¯ve seen that ¡ª but I will continue to do what I must on this quest. I can guarantee you¡¯ve not yet seen the worst of it.¡± Her visage retained most of its hardened quality, but she shirked my eyes and her mouth twitched to a vulnerable smile. ¡°I will not deny you two are proving yourselves quite capable, and I appreciate the stakes. Just . . . In Aricae?th we have strict values, down to our bones, and it seems almost every day they are being tested. This causes me a great deal of . . . tangible, real pain.¡± I gritted my teeth. I¡¯m sorry, Lenya. ¡°You¡¯re not tied to this the way Alator and I are,¡± I said slowly. ¡°We don¡¯t know why you were brought to Barbican . . . Sure, I find it too much of a coincidence that we came across you ¡ª¡± ¡°Our destinies are linked in some way.¡± I put a hand on her arm. She didn¡¯t flinch or try to shrug me off, possibly for the first time. ¡°Perhaps. But do not feel any obligation. Lenya, if this is too hard, or too morally challenging ¡ª if you wish to leave, leave.¡± She huffed and stood and moved a pace away, then stopped and spoke over her shoulder. ¡°Just consider my feelings before involving me.¡± I nodded and she went back to the Woven Vine. I smiled to myself. ¡°You¡¯re going out of your way to keep her on side,¡± Alator mumbled, eyes still closed. ¡°Thought you were sleeping.¡± ¡°I am asleep.¡± C60 : Korr Trade Road A short while later, Alator and I went and did a little shopping in the Craftship above, bought some food, a filled Waterskin, and some sewing stuff and spare linen to repair my Linothorax, should it get damaged in future (when it gets damaged). I also bought another Wooden Shield with a particularly well-ornamented bronze boss that depicted the tiered Hanging City.
Item : Armour Repair Kit (Linen)
Rarity : Common
Description : Leather pouch holding bone needles, thread, shears, pliers, beeswax, linen patches, bronze grommets, leather
Item : Wooden Shield
Rarity : Common
Description : Light wooden shield bound with hammered bronze
Defence : Middling
Durability : Poor
We found Lenya at the Woven Vine and bade farewell to Keza. ¡°We¡¯ll keep your rooms free for your return,¡± Keza smiled, her bright blue-white eyes set exhausted but determined. ¡°We¡¯re not sure when we¡¯ll get back,¡± I said. ¡°If we¡¯ll be back,¡± Alator corrected. ¡°All the same,¡± Keza shrugged. ¡°Not many travellers the past few days, anyway.¡± She poured us a jungle-folk-sized cup of mibege each from the copper spigot with her tail and long arms in that impressive, practised way, and added, ¡°For the road, or . . . something to remember us by.¡± Afterwards, with the pleasant, sweet sting of the banana liquor on our tongues, we all headed back to the Warden Barracks and waited in the foyer until Akishen and Paresh finished their conversation. ¡°You¡¯re all okay!¡± A small, relieved voice danced out of the room at one point and Drya¡¯s little head popped from the door. ¡°All safe and sound. Thanks for the escort,¡± I said. ¡°Paresh has been in there for some time with her,¡± she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. ¡°Tough nut to crack.¡± Recalling his rageful outburst, I feared the worst. ¡°He¡¯s not ¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, no, they¡¯re just talking ¡ª bad choice of words. Paresh wants this to end well as much as anyone; he¡¯s always admired Skelth.¡± Then her eyes faded a little and she looked aside. ¡°I have to say, though, there¡¯s something strange about her, more of the jungle, if I have to put it into words.¡± ¡°I think this is her first time in Ith-Korr,¡± I explained. Drya clapped her hands together. I continued, ¡°She¡¯s Skelth¡¯s daughter.¡± Wide-eyed, she clapped again, then put her hand to her mouth. ¡°Skelth the Ruthless had a child? . . . That¡¯s it! He was always the same way, had an edge to him, but didn¡¯t really show any more symptoms of the Secret than anyone else.¡± Following a few pleasantries, and our explaining the situation a little, she disappeared again, lost in thought. Back to work, I thought. After another quarter hour sitting and watching the coming and going of the wardens and concerned citizens, and taking in just how much work Teera the bookkeeper took care of, the Shadow Prowler lieutenant emerged from the mess room. ¡°All ready?¡± I asked. Her face was dark but not entirely displeased. She ran a hair through her orange and brown hair and clapped her cheeks with both hands, flushing pink the white skin between the blue lines that ran from her eyes to lips. ¡°I am.¡± Feeling she had no intention of sharing the result of the conversation, I shouldered my spear and took the Bronze Spear of Blinding in my hand and followed her from the room and back down the lift, gears churning loudly, out into the wilds. ¡°We¡¯ve a handful hours of daylight,¡± Akishen said, glancing up and eagerly breathing in the smells and sounds of the jungle. ¡°The Trade Road is never perfectly safe, but at least it¡¯s easy going.¡± The Road began as a broad, even track, flanked by the towering green of the jungle; thick trunks glistening with sap. At parts, the light was swallowed up as an almost cathedral-like canopy hung over from either side, draping us with vines and hanging moss, all shimmering wet in the dwindling daylight. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. It was worn by countless feet and cartwheels at its centre, but the sides were eaten into some yards by vines and creeping roots, cracking inwards through the packed earth like probing fingers. Akishen kept her same brisk pace, the mandrill-like red nose twitching as she sniffed the air. At each point, Alator would mimic her, but never did he find any cutting response to her observations; she had a knack for glancing to shadows and catching movements the rest of us ¡ª barring Alator, usually ¡ª missed. ¡°Flicker of scales, retreating up the trink,¡± she¡¯d say, or ¡°Shimmer of a spiny carapace, there, amongst the leaves.¡± A few hours in, with the sky set over red like with a thick paintbrush, she stopped and inhaled sharply, then spat. ¡°Smell that?¡± she asked without turning. I inhaled and winced. The air was thick with an acrid tang, metallic and bitter, and heavy like death. ¡°Bloodvine,¡± she explained. ¡°Flowers everywhere this time of year. Can draw in more than pollinators if we linger too long. We¡¯ll find another place to camp.¡± As the suns continued to set far to the east, they sank beneath the treetops, casting stark and deep shadows over the trail. The feeling of the jungle quickly changed, as if pointedly warning us of sudden contrast: bioluminescent fungi clung to tree roots, a pale green or blue faint but steady light suffusing the wet air. Massive night flowers, taller than me, slowly unfurled petals of turquoise or aquamarine. Some had intricate patterns laced into them and shone like iridescent insect wings. Strange mammalian birds chittered with calls almost like barks in clicking staccatos, featherless bodies darting through the underbrush. Occasionally, a mournful howl or deep, guttural groan echoed through the trees, from creatures unseen but comfortably close. Each time this happened, Akishen would mutter, to noone in particular: ¡°No good here, either. Keep up,¡± she commanded. ¡°The road gets worse the longer we dawdle.¡± As dusk fell proper, the road narrowed further as the jungle pressed in tighter. In places, massive roots arched over the path like archways, and some had pressed into each other and grown thick to form tunnels we were sent through. Dense fog then began to rise from the earth, swirling in ghostly eddies around our feet, then knees, then rising to shadow everything further than a few yards from us. The stars and the three moons glinted above, and even when the fog entirely took them from us, they still lit our way. We took to moving cautiously, pressed very closely together, and matched Akishen¡¯s light jog through the night. The chill took fully in, and the wind buffeted our clothes. I pulled the cloak close about my shoulders and glanced at my companions. Alator was forever pretty much naked, but seemed not to feel the chill. At a point, the chirping of insects gave way to deeper, wetter sounds ¡ª slithering of unseen bodies, croaking of toads or something similar, the occasional plop of something heavy dropping into stagnant water. At last, as my head bobbed and threatened to walksleep, she relented. ¡°Here. We¡¯ll stop.¡± She moved to the side and gestured to a patch of ground like off the road, where a massive tree¡¯s branches and calcified roots formed a natural alcove a little like a cave. With everyone sat against the hard wood, my back sprawled against the entrance to the cave and looking out, Alator at my side, I steadied my breathing. My limbs were heavy and my clothes were soaked. Feeling a breeze send a chill rushing over, I looked around for some wood to burn. ¡°Bad idea,¡± came Akishen¡¯s voice, her tone stern. ¡°Any light or warmth will bring the entire Marshes to us.¡± ¡°Marsh?¡± ¡°We went for a little longer than I¡¯d have liked ¡ª we¡¯re passing out of the jungle into the Marshes of Nyl-Vasha.¡± // SYS : Ohhh, hold fast your courage, traveller, for you step now into the drowned world of Nyl-Vasha, the Treacherous Marshes! Gaze upon this festering mire, where the air hangs heavy with the stench of decay and the croak of unseen things echoes through the oppressive fog! See how the ground beneath your feet quivers ¡ª lies! ¡ª the false promise of stability! For every step may plunge you into the grasping black ooze below! Look how the waters shimmer with an oily sheen ¡ª and oh, but beware! Travellers here would be insurmountably fortuitous to only drown! Beneath the surface lurk the glinting eyes of the venomous marsh-serpents and the writhing limbs of the Sesarma colonies, whose claws snap bone like dry twigs! // Look to the crooked trees that rise skeletal from the muck, the gnarled roots in impossible knots twisted, festooned with webs of glistening moss and sickly flowers that bleed ichor. And listen ¡ª oh, listen! ¡ª do you hear it? The mournful song of the fell Marshlights, flickering pale yellow in the mists? They¡¯ll lead you astray, to the very heart of the bog, from wherein none return ¡ª NONE. The very air conspires against you, traveller! The Marshes of Nyl-Vasha do not give up their prey lightly! // By Jove, that¡¯s just ridiculous. You sound like a camp counsellor telling a horror story. // SYS : Thank you for your kind words. I had a lot of time to work on that one. // But I did indeed hear the song of the Marshlights; from far away a ghostly tune, a rising and falling choir, reached my ears like a cavernous echo. ¡°Don¡¯t follow the song,¡± I said, as Lenya came to the edge of the cave and watched out. ¡°That does not need to be said,¡± the elf princess said. But despite it, her wide grey eyes reflected the faint yellow through the fog, and her body swayed, leaning towards it. ¡°You¡¯d think so, but you wouldn¡¯t be the first,¡± Akishen said. She had laid out a broad, soft-looking but firm animal skin in a runnel between two large roots, and pushed and prodded her pack into comfort as a pillow. Looking through my own pack, and glancing at the cold, hard wood at my feet, I was a little annoyed at my hesitancy of skinning the beasts I¡¯d killed early in my adventure. Lenya completely heartlessly reached into her own pack and withdrew a thick woollen bedroll and a feather pillow, and wrapped herself up nice and warm. ¡°How many nights until we reach Uruk?¡± I asked Akishen. ¡°Just one more,¡± she said after a beat. ¡°It¡¯s a four day journey for merchants, but with a bit of hustle and a shortcut here and there, we¡¯ll be there by dusk the day after tomorrow. And then I¡¯ll be shot of you all.¡± ¡°After you¡¯ve introduced us to the Crimson Crown,¡± I said. She hissed through her teeth and settled to sleep. I scrunched my face up around my nose and felt around it. The pain was still pretty sharp, but it was mostly numbed. Having never broken my nose on Earth, I couldn¡¯t be sure I was healing faster, but that was the sense I got. I pulled the Stonebear Cloak around me that I got from Kikiara the Seeker the first day I got here. Wonder how she¡¯s doing . . . I remembered with a hot flush how much of a fool I¡¯d made of myself. Doubt the World-Eater sent scouts to Ur-Kadesh. Probably she¡¯s still going about her hunter way, oblivious to it all. Sleep came slowly, and it was fitful. Wherever I turned, a knot or some pesky root jabbed into some part of me, and any rest I had was interspersed with being rudely thrown back to reality, and the screeching of some awful horror. Blearing eyed, somewhere between sleep and waking, however many hours later, I felt something was wrong. Leaning forward, wincing at my stiff neck, I could see Alator¡¯s broad back through the gloamy fog, standing sentinel. Akishen was still fast asleep beside me. I reached out a hand to Lenya¡¯s bundle ¡ª empty, but still warm. I shot awake and to my feet and called out to Alator. His yellow-gleaming eyes were darting about over the floor and the tree line, willing his preternatural vision through the fog. ¡°Can¡¯t have left more than five minutes ago, but even in this wet marsh, I don¡¯t see her tracks.¡± My heart fell. I¡¯d noticed her movement through the jungle, or the dusty city, or even over sand. It all seemed so quaint in the stories. . . . ¡°Elves don¡¯t leave tracks.¡± C61 : Nyl-Vasha Marshes ¡°Stupid girl,¡± Akishen yawned when we roused her. She propped herself up on her elbow in her comfortable cot, and rubbed deep sleep from her eyes. ¡°All Vyneshi know the stories.¡± ¡°Stupid of you not to propose a watch ¡ª we are not Vyneshi,¡± I grunted. Where are they taking her?¡± Akishen blinked, then her bright orange eyes, almost giving their own light in the near utter darkness, met mine. ¡°They¡¯re tales meant to frighten children ¡ª cautionary tales of wandering too far in the dark. Perhaps that¡¯s what the parents within the safe walls of Ith-Korr tell their children, anyway. We of the jungle know better.¡± ¡°Stop your navel-gazing, we haven¡¯t the time,¡± I spat. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Her small, lithe form found its feet and she tried to pull her hand free, furious. ¡°Unhand me!¡± ¡°Where are they leading her?¡± I repeated, teeth bared. She didn¡¯t drop her stern gaze, but shirked a little at my tone. ¡°Deeper into the Marshes ¡ª I don¡¯t know! It¡¯s said they always come for those too curious for their own good.¡± ¡°Our deal was for you to bring all of us to the Crimson Crown, so you better hope we find her quickly.¡± She nodded silently, and gathered her things. I walked to Alator¡¯s side, where he still stood outside the root cave, peering out into the starlit fog. ¡°Absolutely no sign. None of the yellow lights to follow, either,¡± Alator said. ¡°We¡¯ll just have to start looking.¡± He clicked his teeth. We don¡¯t need her, and We were fine without, and She is only a burden. I felt all of these thoughts coming from him, but he didn¡¯t voice them. Instead, he nodded and started scanning the foggy start of the marsh. ¡°Thank you,¡± I muttered. ¡°I know this goes against your nature.¡± He looked at me and his mouth twitched half to a smile. I reached into my pouch and touched the Analysis Card. Nothing. It can peer through darkness, so I imagine it has no issue with fog. She must be out of our line of sight. I looked up at the trees. It was sparse on the outskirts of the swamp, but the trees that had leant its roots to us for our sleep loomed high, its gnarled branches twisting into the dark, barely visible above the haze. ¡°I need to climb a tree.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll not see better through the fog from up there,¡± Akishen said. She looked over the ground. ¡°There really are no tracks,¡± she mumbled. ¡°You¡¯ve a very inconvenient companion.¡± Looking down from the tree, I saw the Shadow Prowler lieutenant busied herself putting kindling together for a fire. ¡°Won¡¯t that draw aggro?¡± I asked. ¡°It will bring fiends, yes,¡± she replied, ¡°But if we get lost in the fog, we¡¯ll need light to find our way back. The fog of Nyl-Vasha never lifts ¡ª I¡¯d rather fight a swarm of Dumbledors than wander this marsh until I died of thirst.¡± Good point. And good idea! I took out the last of my Chitin Fragments and touched the Analysis Card.
Item : Chitin Fragment
Rarity : Common
Description : Orange and coral scorpion exoskeleton
Should be able to see this from a distance the same way I can scan people. This¡¯ll help me find my way back. I placed the chitin on a high ridge of root at the entrance to the cave. Akishen brought out the Firestarter that I¡¯d seen work a few times before, a palm-sized oval of obsidian and resin, and held it against the rough hilt of her Bronze Sword. ¡°Akishen, hold off for a second, light it when we¡¯re all ready. No use in drawing fiends before we¡¯re gone. Alator, give me a leg up.¡± He linked his hands together by the base of the tree. I ran to him and at a leap, pushed off his steel fingers as he threw me near eight yards up to the nearest low-hanging branch. I hoisted myself upwards. My hands found purchase on the rough bark, damp with moss. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The climb was arduous, each branch coated in a slick film that made every move a gamble. The marsh was ALIVE around me ¡ª the croaking of distant fiends and the ever-present shrieks seemed amplified as I climbed with my heart beating echoes in my ears, and the unsettling song of the marshlights, always at the edge of my perception. When I finally broke through the mist canopy, the sight stole my breath. The Nyl-Vasha marsh stretched endlessly beneath the three moons and sparkling stars, an alien landscape of pale light and black water. Then I saw it ¡ª a faint, yellow light weaving as if through sparse trees or deeper puddles. Analysis.
Name : Lenya of the Hoary Gold, Level 14
Weakness : Fearful of the cold
The box popped up as expected, in an otherwise unbroken sea of marsh fog, illuminated by pale moonlight. As I watched, I saw it move perpendicular, quickly, then turn and rush away for a minute, then turn again to go back on itself, then set off in a new direction. Her Weakness had changed ¡ª Fearful of the cold where before it was Fearful of tight spaces. She¡¯s lost, and panicking, I thought, then another fear gripped me: Or being chased by something. ¡°There!¡± I called down, pointing. Alator and Akishen squinted up at me and followed the line, of course blindly. ¡°How far?¡± Alator asked back. I stared off into the distance and tried to work out distance from my angle, but the dense and tall blanket of fog made it impossible. I dropped down, caught the branch below with my hands, grunting, and lowered myself to the ground. ¡°No way of knowing,¡± I shrugged, ¡°But not miles.¡± Alator nodded. ¡°Start searching. Keep close to the edge of the marsh, then double back when you can¡¯t go any further. I should be able to locate you both wherever you are. If you find yourself completely lost . . . take something out of your inventory and hold it above your head.¡± Puzzled, Akishen glared at me for a moment, probing or assessing something, then shrugged. ¡°Like this?¡± She took out a piece of Boar Jerky. With my hand still on the Analysis Card, I saw the text box pop up and move around as she held it. She looked ridiculous. ¡°Perfect,¡± I said, stifling a laugh. She huffed and pocketed the jerky. ¡°You¡¯re humiliating me.¡± ¡°A little,¡± I smiled. ¡°Ugh,¡± came the response. She then struck the Firestarter against the hilt of her sword, caught the kindling and dry moss set out on the floor. It lit instantly into flames and she prodded a few larger sticks nearer to it, then pushed a large piece of deadwood into it, then after a few moments, another. ¡°That¡¯ll give us an hour. Be back before then,¡± she said, then set off without another word. ¡°Split up?¡± Alator suggested. Didn¡¯t much enjoy the prospect of wandering a brand new area, especially with SYS¡¯s opening spiel still ringing in my ears, but I gritted my teeth. ¡°She¡¯s running around. In this fog we could pass within a few yards of her and not see her. It¡¯ll be faster apart,¡± I agreed. Trudging through the Nyl-Vasha Marsh at night was an exercise in slow, deliberate survival. The fog wrapped around me like a clammy shroud, seeping damp into my armour and sandals. At first, each step was a gamble, but I took eventually to using the shaft of my spear as a sort of probing rod, testing every step. Even seemingly solid earth sometimes suddenly gave way to sinkholes or boggy patches, as if the marsh itself was attempting to trick me and drag me down. Alator disappeared quickly in another direction, and an eerie, heavy, deafening silence pushed like cold fingers into my temples, broken only by the echoing calls of my companions. Then I realised the song of the marshlight continued, but at times seemed to be emanating from somewhere inside me, mixing with my own thoughts. I caught myself humming along to it, and stopped myself. ¡°Lenya?¡± ¡°Lenya!¡± Then, as if punctuating the oppression ¡ª or reinforcing the pressure ¡ª small, rhythmic splashes echoed faintly. Perhaps frogs diving into water, or the measured paddling of unseen creatures. The buzz of night insects hummed in unison in clusters, coming and going. A little while later, somewhere, deeper in the mist, an unfamiliar call rang out ¡ª a resonant, low gloop, followed by a ripple that my bare ankles felt. Then something else, like the clearing of a throat. Last I heard of my companions, they were far away. Lenya? I froze, spear poised, and scanned the opaque darkness. The marsh had other ways of playing tricks. ¡°Lenya?¡± I whispered, and edged forwards. Narrow reeds brushed against my legs, and tiny fireflies like pinpricks of light came briefly and went. Then a splash too close for comfort broke the rhythm, followed by silence as I stopped moving entirely. Analysis. I peered out, clutching the Analysis Card in my fist, feeling the energy it consumed. After the rest at Ith-Korr, the stream of my inner power was flowing clear and gently, but my muscles and bones ached from the fight earlier, and exhaustion was seeping in. We can¡¯t have slept long, I guessed. As I watched, the fog cleared slightly around a patch of murky water, barely shin-deep. At first, it seemed empty, just an expanse of placid black reflecting the stars and moons above, but then it shook and a layer of thick marsh mud slid to the side, and a box popped up.
Fiend : Sesarman Curator, Level 3
Stats : Str 5, Dex 3, Con 6, Mnd 1
Attacks : Crushing Claw, Fog Siphon
Loot : Essence of Crab, Marshbone Carapace, Sesarman Proboscis
Weakness : Clumsy on hard ground
XP : 24
They cover themselves with mud, must still think it¡¯s hidden. The subtle mound of moss-covered chitin, about the size of my Wooden Shield, created a small island that at first, to unlearned eyes, looked just as part of the marsh as any other. But focusing on it, there was a pattern on the back of the crab fiend ¡ª made of bone, it looked as if the crab had embedded shards into its shell, fashioning a macabre armour, the shape of an uncanny face with fierce eyes and cruel grin. C62 : Sesarman Curators The Sesarman Curator was entirely unmoving. Still. Must use the marsh water to find prey, I guessed. Keeping myself still for too long will make it suspicious, though from its Mind Stat, I don¡¯t think I have to worry too much. I glanced around for hard ground, as per its Weakness, but couldn¡¯t see anything that stood out. With a swift and vivifying dip into my inner eye, I clasped [Battle Tactics : Metavision] and looked around again. Squares like a blueprint spread over the immediate surroundings. They did not reach through the mist ¡ª that ability was limited to the World-breaking Analysis Card, it seemed ¡ª but gave me a good idea of the lay of the land, and I found what I was looking for; patches of grid that rose up past or almost to the water¡¯s surface. Breathing out slowly, imagining the massive razor-sharp and vice-like pincers that must be at the end of the body of the giant crab before me, I decided to take a pretend clumsy step in the direction I had been going. Nothing. I slid my other foot forwards, again, as if I was tramping blindly through the marsh, and sloshed it back down into the water, finding soft, salty earth giving slightly beneath. Suddenly, there was an explosion of noise, a massive upwards splash of water at my side, and another mound that I had presumed safe started to frantic movement. I yelped and tried to leap away, but the mud clung to the soles of my sandals and I couldn¡¯t move fast enough. The Analysis Card finally let me down! The Sesarman shot out an enormous claw, long and thin pincer like a raptor¡¯s talon, and it CLAMPED hard around my shin. Fiery pain shot up as panic screamed my mind into numbness for a moment, which gave the other fiend a moment to emerge with a rush of black water and start skittering at full speed towards me on eerily long, powerful, skeletal legs. As the pain still rushed through my limb and blood disappeared into the black water, I shoved the haft of my spear down beside my leg and with [Vigour] wrenched the claw open, giving me enough time to leap away. With the full Skill still pumping through my muscles, my thighs gave me yards of distance, even with the sucking bottom of the swamp. I landed heavily on uneven ground, and snapped my spear to a low guard as the fiends moved with wild coordination. The fiend with my blood dripping off its massive left claw surged forwards, spindly legs lifting it a few inches above the water and swiftly dragging its armoured, demonic face plates across the marsh. Its other claw, smaller and flatter, swept out in a low arc, carving through the muck. Barely pivoting in time, my injured leg jerked and each pulse of energy sent a fresh lance of agony up my side. I gasped and gritted my teeth, and thrust the spearhead into the water to balance myself, pulling myself out of the way. Then I jabbed at the fiend¡¯s eye stalk, which looked a bit like a massive, thin black eyed pea. The bronze seemed to strike true, but at the last moment a rush of thick grey fog billowed out from beneath the crab and the head of the spear glanced off the tough chitin just shy of the soft tissue. The enchantment came through, though. I saw the crab¡¯s eyes cloud to a dull yellow. It threw its large claw out wildly but I stepped aside just in time for the second sesarma to lunge from the opposite side, long legs punching through the water like daggers. I wheeled back, but its claw lashed out, extended like a blade, and caught me across the ribs. Serrated thorns scraped against the Linothorax, tearing linen and into the skin beneath. For a moment my vision blurred and I remembered the damage taken in the Glass Flats, and the insanity that followed, but peering down through the darkness I saw the damage was minimal. I roared pain and twisted with the strike, staying on my feet and dropping low, throwing myself forwards with a desperate roll. The swamp swallowed me briefly, water splashed my face as I emerged with electric tension and thrust upwards half-blind. The spear¡¯s point drove into the softer underbelly of the blinded Sesarman fiend, and a sickening CRACK followed. Ichor gushed as the creature reeled back, chittering furiously. The first demon crab lunged again, but I had time to anticipate the movement. With a combined rush of [Battle Tactics] and [Weapon Mastery], I slipped the Wooden Shield off my shoulder and the crab¡¯s claw crashed against the bronze boss. My entire frame shuddered, but using the fervour, I spun, spear slicing through the air like a whip, and smashed the butt into one of the fiend¡¯s exposed leg joints, snapping it backwards. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Blood dripped into the water as I steadied myself, bringing my breath from ragged gasps to controlled, enlivening sucks through my teeth. The second fiend, black blood spattering the wet reeds, studded desperately towards me. The Skills gave me the foresight I needed, if only I threw caution to the wind. . . . And that was what I did. Instead of retreating, I stepped inside its reach and drove the spear deep into its exposed maw. A chittering, sharp shriek erupted, but faltered into a bubbling gurgle as the spear pierced deep through soft flesh to its heart. At that, the first fiend faltered, teetering on its broken foreleg, for just a moment. The chance was enough. Spear above me, I rose a knee and stamped down HARD, shattering another leg. The demon crab toppled fully into the water, helpless, and without hesitation, I flipped the spear, burst another [Vigour] through my body, and drove it hard down onto the bone demon¡¯s face on its back, parting chitinous plates and stopped it dead. The marsh fell silent once more, save for my panting breaths, the slow, bubbling seep of ichor into the dark water, and the rising and falling distant choir of the song of the marshlights. I wanted to scream out a war-cry, but enough noise had been made already. Keeping the energy flowing, eyes seeing full red, I touched the Analysis Card as I started a run, head on a swivel. Through the fog, Lenya¡¯s name popped up again for a moment before disappearing. I made full sprint towards it, keeping my fist clenched around the card, out of the bandoleer pouch, pressed against the haft of the Bronze Spear of Blinding. As I moved, the small bronze orb appeared next to my head with a bzz. // SYS : You have upgraded the [Survivalism] Skill to Level 1. // Just as She finished speaking, my foot disappeared beneath me through open water and I went careening forwards with a yelp, splashing suddenly down into deep water. Shooting a hand out, I managed to grab a handful of narrow reeds which gave a half inch in the soft earth but kept me afloat, and I managed to pull myself out. Coming back to my senses, drenched through, freezing cold, I lay back, covered black in mud, and panted. I shouted into the still night air, and struggled up and over onto my knees. // SYS : You gained 48 XP for defeating the two Sesarman Curators. You now have 166 and need 137 total for the next Level. // Let¡¯s deal with that now. . . . I feel strong ¡ª very strong. I pulled the carapace free from the armadillo, I held onto the raging elephant thing, I could block the crabs with my shield, and . . . I can stab through flesh and bone. I¡¯m strong enough for now. The cold hardly touches me, I heal fine, I don¡¯t need more Constitution. I breathed out heavily. So it¡¯s between Dexterity and Mind. I¡¯m still getting hit a bunch, and I¡¯m still thinking too slowly. It was too intoxicating. . . . Mind. Level me up! // SYS : Congratulations and welcome to Level 11. Your Mind Stat is now 6. You have 29 XP remaining and need 144 total for the next Level. // Peering through the fog, Lenya¡¯s name was still there, moving fast in one direction, then turning and moving the other, disappearing for a moment, then coming back. ¡°She¡¯s not far,¡± I grunted through chattering teeth. I wiped my face and pulled myself to my feet, steadying myself with my spear. I burst a [Vigour: Endurance] off through my bones and felt the chill dissipate somewhat as my body heated up, and set off again more cautiously at a light limp, using the pole again to feel out a safe way. After a few minutes, I felt a severe drag from the Analysis Card clutched against the haft of the spear, a swift dizziness had me stumble and almost fall, and I had to put it back in the pouch. I could fashion a pocket somewhere to keep it safe and always to hand, but it would be difficult to ensure its safety. Damaging this unbelievable cheat boon is not an option! The fog seemed to thicken as I continued ¡ª pressed closer. A result of the marshlight, I thought. Indeed, as soon as I thought that, the song grew louder. I could almost make out words within the undulating choirsong, but they were inaudible or gobbledegook. My probing spear¡¯s tip struck against stone, then sloshed into water again. A wind picked up from the west in front of me and blew the fog in thick tendrils along the water, between broken, moss-thick trees and whipping around tall reeds. Intermittently, I stopped, centred myself, held it until I saw Lenya¡¯s name, which trembled before veering sharply to the left, then put it away again. I followed, my breath tight and measured, the thrill of victory and mortal resolve meeting a creeping, old-fashioned fear of the unknown. The song of the marshlight rose again, intensified, like that film where they found an obelisk on the moon. It caused a full body shudder. At the same time, a shadow shifted ahead and single, bobbing, cold yellow light glimmered into existence. Then, faint but unmistakable: Lenya¡¯s silhouette, facing away towards the light. ¡°Lenya!¡± I rasped, rushing forwards. She did not react as I approached. I covered the distance, feet wet and blistering cold, and grabbed her arm. It was frighteningly cold to the touch, her robes were soaked through, her hair plastered wet down her face and neck. I turned her round to me and saw her grey eyes, normally bright grey and sharply alert, vacant and half-focused on something ahead. I turned to the small, yellow bobbing light and the shadow, which grew in size as I looked at it. It neared, and grew, and grew. C63 : Will-o’-the-wisp Gradually, slowly, almost cautiously ¡ª though like sniffing out new prey, rather than holding back for fear ¡ª the marshlight¡¯s truth emerged from the fog. The yellow glow pulsed from the tip of an elongated, flexible tail, held over its head, swaying like a pendulum in time with the beast¡¯s movements. The body followed, dark, long and sinewy, like an eel or a swimming dog. An elongated neck rose high above the water, lined with a ragged mane of mossy weeds, crowned by a grotesque horse-like head, elongated and heavy, with flared nostrils that hissed out fog. Wicked tusks curved outwards from its jaws, dripping black water as the fiend tilted its head, regarding us both with one lidless, reflective eye. The light flickered, and the tail whipped forwards slightly and grew so close I could feel an unnatural warmth. Unbidden, I took a step towards the warmth and held out my hands, feeling the cold and bleakness of the swamp recede for a moment. But my newly sharpened mind panicked, forced me to bite my lip hard. I tasted blood and the spell didn¡¯t quite take full hold. At that, one massive paddle-like paw broke from the surface of the marsh, bringing sharp and long glinting claws. Move! Run! I urged my body, but every signal was ignored. The nightmarish creature neared us in haunting silence. The light continued to sway and the lids of my eyes grew suddenly heavy. My arms fell slack at my sides, the spear nearly dropped from my grasp, resting just on fingertips, the point touched the water ahead. The marshlight fiend¡¯s maw opened slightly, revealing pointed, needle-like teeth like an angler fish. It had lured its prey, and now the hunt was over. The song continued, haunting, echoing from both the light lure and my own mind, coalescing, reaching new volume and heights, near ear-splitting, but at the same time, somehow not unpleasant. Still approaching us gently, I smelt a wave of its corpse breath as fog poured out. Not one yard away. Then the song evaporated like someone hit mute. The marshlight fiend LUNGED, its massive clawed paddle-leg sliced through the air. My feet were stuck fast as if glued to the soft ground, I could just barely move my fingers to keep ahold of my spear. MOVE! My synapses fired like lightning. Should I shoulder my shield? Should I make myself a target? Should I get to Lenya? Should I run? Should I analyse it? My body was stuck, but I unclouded my mind for enough of an instant to burst [Vigour] out, and with burning pain and reluctant muscles I managed to turn to the side. The claw that was aimed for my jaw and neck instead raked across my shoulder, fiery pain snapping through my numbing haze. Blood spattered the swamp water, and I staggered back. I couldn¡¯t check the wound ¡ª I kept my eye on the fiend, but I could clench my fist. Pain tugged at my sinews but the strength was there. Immediately, the swaying light moved over my head towards Lenya, the song started up again, but only coming from the fiend, and its attention completely switched. It bleeds its prey, waits until they succumb to the marsh ¡ª both fisher and hunter. Then I realised the pain and the change in focus had caused the spell to weaken enough to grip my spear with two hands, and I leapt between the fiend and Lenya. I shouted behind me through clenched teeth: ¡°Lenya, WAKE UP!¡± But her glassy eyes remained fixed on the swaying light. The fiend snorted, another gout of fog bursting out and spilling over the ground around our feet, shrouding the place, and it turned its hideous, one-eyed horse-like snout to me again, tusks gleaming. The song burst like sunspots in my mind and waking eyes once more, and I forced all my resilience to stop myself from cradling my head against the noise. Its tail, with that cursed glow, lashing over its back like a scorpion¡¯s stinger and flickered. I felt the warmth again as it passed by a few inches from my face. The enormity of the beast loomed, neck coiling like a serpent preparing to swallow its prey whole. [Vigour: Endurance]. I managed to reach again into the dark, gel-like waters in my mind¡¯s eye and returned a sluggish control over my body. I jabbed with my spear, forcing trembling muscles to obey. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The blade reached nothing, and my elbow sent a harsh fricting warning. The marshlight demon hissed, deep and guttural, and retaliated with another vicious swipe. Its claws met my bare thigh, ripping flesh. I cried out, dropping to one knee in the shallow, black water. As I breathed and blinked away the taunting warmth of the light, it circled like a wolf. My limbs began to sag. It drew closer. At the extent of the swaying, the light was a few yards away from me. NO! Timing it, I clamped my teeth down hard on the inside of my mouth. Sharp, horrible pain. I spat copper. I had another few moments to move before the light swung back once again, I meant to throw out yet another Skill, but didn¡¯t have the energy. Instead, surging up with a desperate thrust, the bronze spearhead struck true, gouging into the fiend¡¯s wet, grey side. It uttered a terrible, otherworldly sound somewhere between gurgling and a dog¡¯s howl, and recoiled. The song stopped immediately. It¡¯s not used to pain. It¡¯s overcautious, slow to attack. I tried with stunted faculty to piece together clues that might leave me alive. Glancing back to Lenya, she stood teetering to one side, watching the yellow bait light. Can¡¯t outrun it. Have to wake her up somehow. . . . She¡¯ll thank me for this, I told myself. As the fiend shook its head from side to side and tensed up, turning the wound away from me, I stamped two heavy steps back towards Lenya, brought the spear up to my side, and smacked her upper arm HARD with the flat of the blade. The razor-edge cut her robe, but I don¡¯t think it drew blood. She fell like a heavy sack onto the ground, but finally I saw her eyes snap out of it, and she winced and held her arm, and looked about her, confused. That was the last I saw. A massive rush threw me over, forced me down into the muck. A crushing weight bore down on my muck, pinning me beneath the surface, and horror fully took me. The claws of both its front paws dug into my back as it pushed deeper, bubbles of my air escaping into the black marsh, my vision only movement and darkness. Water pressed in around me. My nose and cheeks dragged and grazed against sharp stones and bones on the giving, freezing ground beneath the water. Breath forced out of my panicked, tearing lungs, my chest screamed for air. I let go of the haft of my spear and flailed with both hands, trying to gain purchase beneath me to throw the beast off, but my fingers sunk into the bog and I pulled them out, half-stuck. ¡°Talbot! Lenya¡± A bellowing shout shattered the rushing bedlam, vibrating through the water. Frantic splashes and heavy footfalls followed, and Alator¡¯s golden light flashed overhead. One paw raised from my back, and I redoubled my effort. My fist found hard ground and I pushed with everything I had. Claws rent into my shoulderblades as I squirmed and dragged myself upwards, enough to wrench my head above the surface and gasp. Ragged and desperate breaths filled my lungs with wet, foggy, cold air ¡ª the most beautiful taste. Scrambling, trying to ignore the pain, I skittered forwards on all fours, making distance, and came up onto a hard, rocky mound. Coughing water, vision blurred and spotty, I turned to see Alator¡¯s broad back and shock of wet red hair between me and the fiend. His hands were locked around the thing¡¯s neck, his back already lined with gashes and pouring red into the swamp. I dragged myself to my feet and found Lenya in the dark. She was trembling, eyes wild and frightened. With both hands I grabbed the collar of her robe and pulled her up. Her knees gave for a moment but she stood. One side of her robes were torn, blood-soaked, and she rested heavily on one leg. The fiend was leading her around until she succumbed. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± she spluttered, mouth hoarse. ¡°I was asleep and then . . .¡± ¡°We¡¯ll deal with that later,¡± I barked. I grabbed the Analysis Card and spun myself around.
Fiend : Gloaming Angler, Level 16
Stats : Str 14, Dex 12, Con 15, Mnd 4
Attacks : Drowning Grip, Enthralling Glow, Stalking Swipe
Loot : Fine Claw, Gloaming Esca, Swamping Hide
Weakness : Sensitive tail
XP : 157
¡°Can you stop it moving for a second?¡± She leant on her staff, wincing, and gasped breaths. ¡°Something that big?¡± she shook her head. ¡°Can you cut the tail?¡± ¡°[Rend]? I was taught not to. . . .¡± ¡°Lenya!¡± ¡°I¡ª I¡¯ll try.¡± She cried in pain as she brought her weight from her staff and held the polished black pine before her, and she began her incantation between shaking, pained inhales. The faint breeze of magic picked up, bundles of wet moss began to shudder and the tall reeds bent towards her. Bursting [Vigour: Endurance] again through my tendons, I felt my bones lighten, and the heavy, cold pain from the crab pincer wound on my shin abate. The pain in my shoulder numbed, my frozen and torn lungs begged me for respite, but I stomped over the marsh towards the fray. C64 : Gloaming Angler Alator roared, spine and shoulders glistening blood that looked black in the darkness, steam rushed from his back and ridged neck and I saw the ends of his red hair curl, drying with the heat of his body. His grip was taut around the fiend¡¯s neck, and it gave a blinding effort and it leaned its full weight into him, rearing on its back legs, and lashed out with both claws. Blood burst from my companion¡¯s sides as they were raked to the ribs, and he relented the grip. The Gloaming Angler gave another gurgling howl and backed away as Alator fumbled, folding itself into the fog. With its one bulging, lidless eye swivelled around in its massive socket, regarding us all. It began to disappear into the fog, and its tail came forwards again, gleaming that sickly yellow that emanated an unnatural warmth. Again, I found myself longing for the glow, but my fury and pain drowned it out. We won¡¯t make it out of here as we are. This fiend would never let us leave Nyl-Vasha. It needs to die! ¡°Alator! It¡¯s scared of pain, get its tail!¡± I said. My voice called through the silence fog like lightning, and Alator snapped out of his pain and beat his chest. The yellow flash from his eyes lit the surrounding fog like a torch, and he set off at a wounded sprint, spattering red, towards the shadow of the thing. I ran after him as fast as I could. After a few steps, one foot dropped through the brackish blackness to the thigh and I had to pull myself up again. Finding them, Alator was locked in another death grip with the fiend, wide stance, arms crossed around one of the Angler¡¯s bulky grey forelegs. The beast howled again and its tail whipped up straight into the air as if it knew our plan ¡ª or just because of its caution. No time to be sure! Shocking my nerves with another [Vigour], I reached them both after a beat. It tried to spin around to put Alator between us, but with a roar and a heave, Alator pulled it upwards off balance and it teetered in the air. No point saving resources! [Weapon Mastery : Precision Strike] thrust my arm forwards and the Skill chose its target: the spearhead plunged and near disappeared fully into the beast¡¯s haunch, metal rasping on its hip. I took the spear in two hands and wrenched it free, splattering gouts of blood down its side and onto the brush. It howled awfully, a rippling yelp, and its muscles contorted and twisted as its massive eye flickered between fight and flight, and ¡ª for better and worse ¡ª settled on FIGHT. Its form churned and Alator¡¯s grip was thrown free. It then launched itself full-bore at me, clashing head-first into my guarding spear, then one of its long, wet, leathery legs curled over the top of the spear towards my already wounded shoulder. Because of the pain, the spear faltered a little in my grip, but the last gasp of [Vigour] flowed out of my mind¡¯s eye and I dug my heels into the dirt and redoubled my effort, pushing the thrashing dagger-like claws away from me as they searched and reached for flesh. Holding near half of the fiend¡¯s weight up, my sandals sunk fully into the marsh. Then I felt a massive rush of magic, a hot breeze warmed my back and thighs as arcane energy flowed out from Lenya, but instead of the release of a spell, I heard a faltering wail. I glanced behind at her. She had dropped to her knees and was teetering even there. Blood flowed from her nose and her face was white cold with effort ¡ª full exhaustion. ¡°I¡¯m sorry ¡ª I can¡¯t,¡± I heard her say over the bedlam. I could do nothing to reassure her ¡ª didn¡¯t feel like I should. Have to do it myself! With my good side, I heaved the haft of the spear up and across and threw the Angler almost onto its side, heavily on two legs. Trying to find its balance in the deep black water, it frenzied and snarled for a moment, then dropped low and turned, making another attempt to escape. As it did, the tail with the forgotten yellow light quivered and moved through the air, low enough for Alator to leap four yards into the air, sailing, and catch the whipping tail in both fists. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Without a second thought, I dragged one foot out of the mud, feeling it squelch and pull, and stabbed again, hitting the demon horse fully in the side, and I plunged the blade deep and held it there. Alator, aloft, drew the thick, leathery tail down to his face and bit down with his wolven teeth. His eyes flashed yellow and TORE through it. Blood burst from the stump like arterial spray and with a muted gurgled groan the Gloaming Angler fell instantly to the ground, near catatonic. Black water splashed out beneath its massive length, all eleven yards of it. Every muscle twitching in pain, it had trouble righting itself, and its massive reflective eye lost some of its energy, as if becoming unthinking, more bestial. Drawing back the Bronze Spear of Blinding again, with both hands, I shouted over the pumping blood in my ears and the searing pain in my shoulder and plunged it deep into the beast¡¯s long neck. Through the haft of the spear, my arms, held steel, felt the rushing and tensioning of sinews and bone. For a few heartbeats, the Angler thrashed wild, then stilled. The spear fell from my hands and I dropped to my knees in the marsh, and roared wordlessly to the sky. Then my vision pinholed, eyes burning, and I felt intense cold seeping through every pore and along every vein and nerve. The fog darkened around me, the faces of my companions blurred, and then I felt only cold. . . . Crack. The cracking of bones? My bones? Did it eat me after all? Crackling. My eyelids were so heavy, stuck closed as if with glue, but dragging them open a sliver I saw yellow warmth, cast shadows, figures, a crackling fire, and I overheard voices, smattered against the rough, hollowed cavern of my consciousness: ¡°. . . carried him here . . .¡± ¡°. . . not in a good way . . .¡± ¡°. . . nothing we can do but pray to the Kaila Leuxs . . .¡± . . . When I next came to, I saw the suns had risen. Harsh white light punctured the dark and burned red through my eyelids. Squinting, I opened my eyes and saw through bleary exhaustion only startling light ¡ª then the cavernous roots above my head. ¡°Talbot!¡± A beautiful, concerned voice called my name, and a shadow covered the painful light. Almost silhouetted, a lovely elven face looked down at me, tearful, red-eyed, covered in scratches and fresh bruises. Lenya put a hand to my forehead and leant down and kissed me on the cheek. ¡°Talbot, I¡¯m so glad!¡± I put my hand behind me to strain myself up and felt a PULSE of horrible agony, dropping me back to the ground. ¡°Take it easy,¡± came Alator¡¯s voice. Looking at my shoulder, I saw they¡¯d stripped my Linothorax from me and bandaged my shoulder up tight. ¡°How¡¯s it look?¡± I croaked. Lenya cast her eyes aside and bit her tongue. ¡°You¡¯ll live,¡± Alator said bluntly. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t use it for a while. I have dressed it, and Akishen had some herbs that stopped the bleeding, but we¡¯re not healers.¡± I grunted. Moving slowly, I used my other arm to prop myself up and dragged my body backwards to lean against the cold, slimy root wall. As I did, I felt a sharp pain run up my sternum with every breath, and leaning forwards had me wince. ¡°What time is it?¡± ¡°An hour before noon,¡± came another voice. Akishen, with her mandrill features and wearing a concerned look, stepped from the light to the dank space and squatted next to me. ¡°You¡¯re in an awful state, a rib broken, at least, and your arm¡¯s hanging by a thread.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± Lenya shot her a dirty look. Akishen scoffed and smiled. ¡°But you brought her back. You saved her, hero,¡± she laughed, and couldn¡¯t help herself punching me in my good arm. The impact was numb. ¡°We¡¯ve got to move,¡± I rasped between pained breaths. ¡°We can¡¯t! You need ¡ª¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Alator cut across her. ¡°You can rest on the trail, but for now, suck it up. We need to leave the marsh before nightfall.¡± ¡°Thanks for the sympathy,¡± I grinned, sparking a new wave of stinging and tearing suffering through my body. My spear was beside me. I took it in my good arm and went to stand. Lenya rushed to my side and helped me up, then looped my arm around her shoulders and started leading me towards the root. The size difference made the steps awkward, and each left foot down had me lower my shoulder and grit my teeth in pain, but the warmth of her skin and the smell of her hair put me off complaining. Out of the root cavern, the suns¡¯ light was warm and welcoming. The approaching noon had burnt away a lot of the fog, but it still remained swirling like milk in tea around the deep pools and damp mounds of earth. ¡°I¡¯ll take him,¡± Alator came to my side and lifted my weight off Lenya¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s easier if you¡¯re taller.¡± ¡°By like an inch,¡± I mumbled. ¡°Okay,¡± he said. C65 : Traders on the Road We set off on our dreadfully slow way; the marsh was no friend to the wounded. Each step was a slow negotiation with earth that shifted and sucked at my sandalled heels ¡ª impossible to know whether the swamp¡¯s black water hid firm ground or open water. Alator shouldered most of my weight, with a hand on my hip. As we stepped, I felt his effort as well. The wounds on his back and sides had mostly closed, but were shining red and beaded blood whenever we missed a step. My spear doubled as a crutch, biting into my palm as I leaned on it to move forwards. // SYS : You gained 79 XP for defeating the Gloaming Angler. You now have 108 and need 144 total for the next Level. // For some time, even this far into the day, the fog clung stubbornly to the low ground, curling into gnarled tree roots and dense reeds. Above, the suns burned red and yellow, but their warmth was accosted by the dour foulness of the place, as if the hate filling the place shunted out their light. Lenya stayed close, her sharp, bright grey eyes scanning the still pools for movement, her robes, still quite damp, hung heavy on her small frame. Akishen took point, the thin blue lines on her face moving as her thin nose sniffed the air, always alert, her unburdened and fresh movements deft and noiseless. Mostly, she found us a safe path. I heard nothing beyond our own sludgy trudging, but every so often a faint ripple or hollow splash teased the edge of my hearing and had me strain to turn. I never saw anything. ¡°Stick to the reeds,¡± Akishen muttered back to us. ¡°Dryer ground . . . usually.¡± We veered closer to a line of thin, spindly trees. In the distance, through the thinning haze, I saw the faint line of the trade road ¡ª worn and sunken, but blessedly solid. Almost there. The last half mile passed hard. Multiple times either I or Alator stomped into deep water and had to pull the other out. A deep cut on his side beaded red and streamed blood onto his white loin cloth, but he just shrugged it off and kept moving. Lenya¡¯s mood switched from genuine and almost cloying concern to a dark, brooding silence. She was utterly useless in that fight, my thoughts were tinged with irritation, and my attempts to go easy on her came up against the brick wall of pain and discomfort with every step. She needs to be more careful. She¡¯s four levels above me and has two Skills above Level 3. Maybe she needs to be less careful. . . . She needs to pull her weight. At long last, the ground dried, firmed up, and turned to dust and wheel-rutted ground once more. Stepping onto the trade road, I bathed for a few moments in the suns¡¯ light and felt the warmth quickly turn to itching heat. Still, I felt soothed, like a weight had lifted from my shoulders and a miasma had cleared from my mind. It was slightly easier to settle my emotions, but I still felt daggers from the wounds and the prickling of anger. An hour or so later, Lenya came to my side and tugged bashfully on my Linothorax. ¡°I ¡ª¡± she started, but didn¡¯t finish. ¡°I know what you¡¯re going to say, Lenya. I may put it in less stern words than I¡¯m sure your own admonishment has, but it¡¯s true: we need to work better as a team.¡± Her bright grey eyes lit up, imagining what I said was tantamount to forgiveness. ¡°You know, you¡¯re less blunt recently,¡± she said. ¡°I quite like it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m choosing my words carefully,¡± I shot back. A bundle of impatient energy welled in my heart, and I took off ahead. I heard a light, ¡°Oh. . . .¡± from behind me. With the marsh far away to our left, the suns moved down overhead to the east, settling down over the jungle trees. The trade road stretched ahead, and though we stepped mostly onto packed dirt, there were some stone paving slabs underfoot. Its uneven surface was riddled with cracks and half-swallowed by tufts of dry grass. The Korr Jungle had become more sparse, its dense canopy thinning as the terrain subtly shifted. Thick-rooted trees with sprawling, heavy branches gave way to slimmer trunks and sparser foliage. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The undergrowth around us dwindled to low shrubs and patches of red, wiry grass that clung loosely to the drier soil, dark brown but almost red, with golden patches like the land between the Breathing Sands and the Korr Jungles. The air grew less humid, carrying dust and a faint metallic tang of sun-warmed stone. Rocks, small at first, soon dotted the path in irregular clusters. The ever-present chatter of the jungle faded, replaced by the occasional caw of a distant bird and the sighing whispers of a faint, cooling breeze, which I was very grateful for under the suns. Soon, our shadows stretched longer, and the setting suns cast the horizon ahead in a hazy orange light. There, rising gently, was the faint outline of the mountain pass that would eventually lead to Uruk. It called us onwards, and the party trudged on, weary yet buoyed by the firmer ground and clear skies, and a haze of security that I knew ¡ª knowing Barbican as I did ¡ª was likely false. Only twice through the eight hours or so we walked along the path did we run into other people. First, a group of Vyneshi who eyed us suspiciously as we passed. They called to Akishen in their tongue but, receiving no response, muttered darkly amongst themselves and passed us by. Second, an hour or so before twilight, a caravan drew close to us ¡ª two ox-drawn wagons, laden with crates and barrels and bundles of woven fabrics under thick jute covers. Leading it were two figures, one clearly a felid-folk from Uruk ¡ª the first I¡¯d seen; sleek black fur and piercing green eyes out of a panther-like face. She moved quickly, as if prowling, every step and motion quick as she barks orders to the labourers driving the oxen. ¡°Hail,¡± I raised a hand as they neared. I shrugged Alator off and leant on my spear. The trader flinched, not expecting any interaction. City-folk are the same here, I thought with a sigh. ¡°Grreetings, trravellers,¡± she purred with a false smile. She spoke with a melodic voice, hard syllables and rolled ¡®r¡¯s. ¡°Coming from Uruk? How¡¯s the way?¡± ¡°Fairr. . . . Look, this mission has already been delayed too much and we¡¯re trying to make up time, so . . .¡± ¡°Guess Uruk didn¡¯t go untouched by the Scouring,¡± I said. The felid-folk blinked, long black eyelashes shuddering. Her eyes were yellow and bright, even in the dimming light of the setting suns. ¡°The same happened in Ith-Korr, then? . . . Untouched? Hardly.¡± She stopped fully next to me and patted her travelling clothes down, then split her black-blue face in a wide, salesman grin, showing long fangs. ¡°They came during the Games ¡ª bat-demons swarrming the skies like shadows made flesh. But Uruk is no stranger to warr. Our council was ready. We finished them without too much bother.¡± ¡°You fared better than Ith-Korr,¡± I said, frowning. ¡°The whole city nearly came down.¡± The trader sighed, though it was more like a passive growl. ¡°Ith-Korr is pretty, but jungle-folk architecture makes no sense. The city is also too isolated ¡ª no allies close enough to call upon.¡± I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes. Having spent so much time there, and grown close to a few of them, I felt the insult as if it were directed at me. ¡°And what of Uruk? Do you think it¡¯ll stand if they come again?¡± The trader¡¯s broad yellow teeth were shown as a grim smirk. ¡°Let them try.¡± Alator scoffed from beside me. ¡°We¡¯ll see if that pride holds when the skies darken again.¡± The trader turned to him incredulous, but widened her eyes. ¡°You know more than you say.¡± ¡°I know it does not end with one attack,¡± Alator spat. ¡°I see,¡± the trader brought herself to full height and indicated to the ox-drivers to carry on, then shrugged. ¡°Then may the gods give us strength.¡± Once they were far behind us, Alator made to lift my weight again, but I pushed him back. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He nodded. Then he blew out his lungs. Agitated, he mumbled, making a short prophecy: ¡°The surety of this place. . . . This kindling world will burn.¡± I tapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Lighten up. That¡¯s what we¡¯re here to prevent.¡± He scoffed again and started off on the trade road again, leading the way. ¡°We¡¯ll settle near here,¡± said Akishen as the last light was thrown stark red over the dome of the world. ¡°Don¡¯t enjoy the prospect of being accosted on the road, but the wilds here are fully untamed. Choice is yours.¡± Lenya was lost in thought and didn¡¯t hear. Alator pretended not to. I shrugged. ¡°Okay. . . .¡± Akishen gazed around for a moment, I imagined making use of her [Survivalism], and pointed to a rocky outcrop, shaded beneath one of the last broad trees. I thought that I should start using mine ¡ª could barely suppress the excitement ¡ª but I decided she knew this land much better than we did, had done this journey a bunch of times before, and regardless, it was better to let her have it. . . . Setting up camp for the second time on the trail was much like the first, with Akishen and Lenya making their beds, and Alator and I gazing on longingly at the soft wool and linen. I again cursed my lack of preparedness. Could have given it a moment¡¯s thought, idiot. . . . In fairness, the most I¡¯d hiked back on Earth was a little trail that the MegaCorp had carved out of an old industrial site, with fake trees and little corporation-approval team-building activities to do. That was before I was fired. I chuckled a little under my breath. To think I¡¯d be more suited to killing than data analysis. C66 : Scar Stories ¡°Stay still,¡± Lenya told me beside the fire, once we¡¯d settled. Akishen had given us warnings about a fire, but after an hour in the blistering cold, had gone off herself to find kindling. Lenya fussed over the wound on my shoulder, stripping it carefully, her touch cold as ice, and then rinsing it and binding it with cloth. She muttered something unsurely about marsh infection. ¡°I¡¯ll just keep it clean. Don¡¯t think we can really do anything about that, unless you¡¯ve some antibiotics,¡± I laughed. Her face was unamused and confused. ¡°A joke,¡± I added. ¡°An-ti-bye-o-tics. . . . Something from your World?¡± she asked. Then she clapped her hand to her mouth and looked to the side to where Akishen was tending to the fire. Her small ear twitched underneath her thick orange hair, but she didn¡¯t look up from the fire. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know Talbot and Alator are of another World, and I guessed Lenya was as well.¡± The fire crackled softly and lit the rock and the low branches above us, and was thrown out over the dusty ground into the darkness. Above, countless stars and coloured constellations danced, and the three moons protected the cardinal points. I shifted myself closer to Akishen and the fire, suppressing a wince at the pain. ¡°How do you know?¡± I asked. She poked a log further into the fire and a spark flew to her face. Rubbing her cheek, moving the blue lines that ran from her eyes to her lips, she said, ¡°Some of the Crimson Crown are also otherworldly interlopers. Before you ask, that¡¯s all I know ¡ª just overheard them talking about things from their World, a bunch of things I hadn¡¯t heard of and don¡¯t really remember the name of. They called this a New World.¡± ¡°Do you have any idea how we got here? Or how we can leave?¡± Lenya asked, hopefully. ¡°None at all, sorry.¡± ¡°But the Crimson Crown would know. . . .¡± I took a deep breath. Well, if the cat¡¯s out of the bag. . . . ¡°Lenya, there are World Portals that lead to different Worlds. I haven¡¯t seen any yet, and I¡¯m not sure where they are, but with my ability, I will know if anyone has come from another World, so we can question them. But . . . you and Alator are . . . special cases. My SYS pulled Alator from his World, and will not send him back until the World-Eater is defeated. You, on the other hand . . . we don¡¯t know why ¡ª or how ¡ª you came here.¡± Lenya¡¯s face dropped, bright grey eyes lit by the shifting fire. ¡°Nor does my woretion. The Crimson Crown is still my best bet on how to go . . . home.¡± There was a long break before saying the last word, and she said it softly, with sadness. The crackling of the fire was the only thing that broke the silence that followed. It felt strange suddenly being away from the jungle that we¡¯d been in for so long ¡ª the sounds of its insects and the alien calls that reverberated even high up in Ith-Korr¡¯s lofty tiers were entirely absent, replaced only by the soft howling of the wind from the mountains through the foothills. ¡°That¡¯s going to leave an ugly scar,¡± I said, rolling my shoulder around. ¡°A scar?¡± Lenya looked at me puzzled. ¡°Oh come on, you¡¯re messing with me. Scar tissue when the body repairs damages.¡± She shrugged. I pointed to the shiny skin on my hand from the Snowdrift Serpent fang. She blinked at it and grabbed my hand to inspect it. ¡°Fascinating. . . .¡± ¡°Elves don¡¯t scar?¡± I said with more venom than I intended. Lenya¡¯s face broke into a slow smile ¡ª the first I¡¯d seen in a while. She just shook her head. ¡°Whatever,¡± I took my hand back and turned to Alator. ¡°You scar, right?¡± ¡°I had a great number of awful, prideful scars,¡± he said with gritted teeth. He lay under the stars on his side with an arm over his head. He always struggled to sleep when there was any noise at all, even our hushed voices set him off irritated. ¡°But not any more.¡± ¡°Because of those gold things on your arm?¡± He didn¡¯t respond. ¡°What about you?¡± I turned to Akishen. ¡°Don¡¯t feign friendliness with me. I have not forgotten your conduct with my patha, nor your cold heartlessness.¡± ¡°Simple question,¡± I clicked my teeth. She huffed and stood, moving away from the fire to her blankets and the soft pallet she¡¯d made on a mound of red grass. After a little time, she asked: Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Are you asking whether Vyneshi scar?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯ve seen scars in Ith-Korr. Do you have any?¡± ¡°That is a personal question.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve a few more days together,¡± I said, forcing a smile. Alator¡¯s quizzical words about trying to keep Lenya onside rang through my mind, but I really didn¡¯t have any ulterior motive as far as Akishen was concerned ¡ª honestly, I just enjoyed the company. . . . ¡°I haven¡¯t really held a conversation with anyone longer than ten minutes, aside from with Lenya and Alator, since I¡¯ve been here. . . .¡± I trailed off, realising in saying it out loud just how true it was, then added, ¡°Just looking to share scar stories.¡± I heard a groan from Alator¡¯s hulking body, and he got to his feet. ¡°Going to scout,¡± he hissed, and left. Akishen righted herself in her bed. Her auburn and brown hair, cropped short but with a long fringe, fell over one eye. The other, bright and orange, reflecting the firelight, studied me for a moment, then relaxed. ¡°Fine. You start,¡± she said under her breath. ¡°Phew, where to begin. . . .¡± I flexed my scarred hand, the faint indentations of the fang-mark twitching over the palm, with the subtle lines of its poison still present. ¡°Since this one¡¯s already come up ¡ª Snowdrift Serpent, enormous blue snake ambushing thing. Thought I¡¯d got an easy kill after sneaking up on a wounded Warg, turns out this bastard was hiding, waiting for prey. It was way too fast for me, and Alator was too far away to help, so as a last ditch effort I grabbed its head. Misjudged a bit, in hindsight. . . . Bit right through my palm. Awful sharp pain, but the worst of it was the cold poison! Nearly did me in, right there.¡± My companions hung onto every word of the story. Lenya was wide-eyed and open-mouthed from the start, nodding and wincing at all the appropriate moments, her vast imagination clearly working overtime. Akishen started off with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, but by the time I was finished, she had the faintest start of a smile. ¡°You slew a Snowdrift Serpent by yourself?¡± ¡°You know them?¡± ¡°Hardly, but I¡¯ve heard of them. We pick up all kinds of stories from travellers along the Trade Road ¡ª said they can take out entire groups by ambushing, attacking swiftly, then disappearing and waiting for the poison to take hold.¡± ¡°Sounds about right. . . .¡± This is fun! ¡°Your go.¡± Akishen nodded and pulled her arm out from under the blanket. She ran her hand over it, moving the fur aside. ¡°See the little lines there? Tangle vine. I was out gathering fruit a few years ago, not paying attention, and it snagged me. I¡¯m wiser now. You probably think, ¡®A plant can¡¯t hurt you!¡¯ But you simply don¡¯t know the Korr Jungles well enough. It grabs, pulls, and cuts ¡ª like a dozen little knives. I was yellin¡¯ and screaming, unable to get away, but luckily someone was in earshot. They . . . That¡¯s enough. Got any more?¡± Just when she was getting animated. I saw a glint in her eye, eager for more stories. ¡°Come on,¡± Lenya said. ¡°Your skin¡¯s a mess, must have loads more stories like that! Tell us one from your home World.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Don¡¯t have any from my home World ¡ª as I said, it was a pretty tame place, all things considered.¡± ¡°Then another from Barbican!¡± Lenya chittered. She had crawled over to me and was sitting just inches away. ¡°Okay. . . .¡± I edged towards the light and drew their attention closer, then held out my upturned arms to show all the small marks like cooking oil spits. ¡°Cinderback Armadrax did that. MASSIVE thing, like an armadillo but huge, strong black plating thick as iron, lives on a volcano. . . . Made from the same stuff, I reckon.¡± I chuckled. ¡°I¡¯d got a bit full of myself, insisted to take it alone, Alator on the sidelines. After giving it every bit of strength I had, I found its weakness: when it reared up to smash me flat as a pancake, it revealed its softer underbelly. So I stabbed and I stabbed ¡ª bloody heroic, it was. Bit of a drawback, though: its blood was like molten tar, wet fire sprayed from every cut. Smoking hair, blistered skin, pure agony. Still feel the fire when I wake up, some mornings.¡± ¡°Amazing,¡± Lenya breathed. ¡°Much more violent than even I gave you credit for.¡± I guess that¡¯s a compliment. Akishen was now fully wide-eyed, lip quivering with questions. She swallowed hard, resisting, then turned away from us and started untying the tight leather armour over her chest. ¡°Akishen, you don¡¯t need to ¡ª¡± I started, but she hissed through her teeth and continued. I averted my eyes as she let it drop down her back, then reached over her head and pulled up her thin undershirt. ¡°See all the little dots along my waistline?¡± she asked in a small voice. I looked back at her. The fur was short and soft over her body, where it was thick and full over her arms and legs, and indeed, there was a small patch of white, bare skin at the small of her back that revealed a constellation of pin-prick scars. ¡°I see ¡¯em, now cover yourself back up,¡± I said, red-faced. Lenya gave me an elbow, her expression unreadable. Akishen did so, then turned back to us. The blue lines on her cheeks now ran over bright red skin, flushed embarrassed. ¡°B-bit of a stupid one. Giant dumbledor bees,¡± she said, almost as a whisper. ¡°I was twelve, shadowin¡¯ a group of scouts for the first time. Big pride moment, ya? Anyway, I wandered off and tripped ¡ª always been a bit dim ¡ª right into their hive. . . . BUZZ!¡± She shouted the sound and we both jumped. I was hit by SYS PTSD for a moment. ¡°The whole swarm came out like I¡¯d splattered their queen.¡± ¡°Might have!¡± Lenya gasped. Seeing my enrapturement and Lenya¡¯s smiling enthusiasm, Akishen eased up a little. Her face settled into a mixture between resistance and genuine warmth and friendliness. ¡°They¡¯re huge, long as two thumbs,¡± she pushed her thumbs together. ¡°And so bloody angry! I screamed and ran, the others got to me quick enough, but the dumbledors had got me good. The scouts were laughing at me, but they said I must have run lightning fast to get away with the small punishment I did ¡ª so there¡¯s that. . . .¡± ¡°Lucky we didn¡¯t run into any of them in the Jungles! Sounds horrendous,¡± Lenya said. She sidled over to Akishen and put a hand on her leg. ¡°If it helps, you¡¯re still wicked fast.¡± Akishen then giggled a real young girl giggle. I wondered at her age. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, turning her head away. She rubbed her eyes for a second, then looked back at me sheepish. ¡°A-any more?¡± ¡°Okay, we¡¯re bringing out the big guns,¡± I said before thinking. I reached up and started to untie and unfasten my linen armour, before hesitating. I looked around for Alator but saw nothing, then blew out my lungs and kept going. Pulling the stiff linen apart, I showed the wound on my chest ¡ª the wide, long scar that almost took my life. C67 : Storm on the Road ¡°Mercurial Cichlid, on the Glass Flats,¡± I said, daring to run a finger along the jagged scar. Akishen immediately shuddered with a sharp intake of breath. ¡°You travelled the Glass Flats at noon?¡± I nodded and shrugged. ¡°Didn¡¯t know any better. . . .¡± ¡°Wow, you must be as dumb as me,¡± she giggled again. I laughed. ¡°Must be! We were escaping Akhur''shet at the time. . . .¡± Two pure, blank faces looked back at me. Lenya, of course, had no idea what I was talking about, but Akishen. . . . I remembered the unsettled reaction I had from the coral-folk guard back in Zhai-Khul. I guess there''s no point lying. "They tried to sacrifice us to their Spirit.¡± Lenya gave a gasp, but Akishen''s expression dropped into consternation or disbelief. ¡°Lenya, these are huge fish that float on the air, but their tongues are like barbed spears,¡± I explained to Lenya, moving along. ¡°Doesn¡¯t get scarier than them ¡ª nightmarish," Akishen said. ¡°Appeared all of a sudden like liquid metal, forming out of the mirror floor. Seemed peaceful enough at first, then aye, its tongue shot out.¡± I chuckled, ¡°Alator was pretty useless. Tried to punch it, but its body just rippled like he tapped a spoon on some jelly. I had a dagger and I tossed him the fang of the Snowdrift Serpent I¡¯d killed ¡ª eventually we were beating it back, but it . . . lashed out. Caught me full. Tore my whole chest open. . . .¡± I trailed off. Akishen had crawled over for a better look by the flickering firelight. ¡°It looks awful, but . . . not as bad as all that.¡± ¡°It healed up,¡± I said. I forced a shrug and feigned nonchalance. ¡°Mysterious,¡± Akishen said with a smile, but left it there. Lenya reached out a hand and touched the smooth scar. Suddenly, psycho pain in my chest thumped and my heart threatened to burst. I winced and grabbed her wrist. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Talbot, that¡¯s enough,¡± Lenya said, her bright grey eyes looking deeply at me, sympathy pouring out. I felt myself flush red hot, then set about tying back up my Linothorax. I didn¡¯t know I was still carrying this trauma. . . . My thoughts were dark, but perhaps due to the Warrior class, or my upgraded Mind Stat, this followed: I¡¯ll have to work through that soon. Then Akishen yawned and stretched out her arms. ¡°Well, that¡¯s enough fun ¡ª enough ¡ª that¡¯s enough for one night. Don¡¯t think we¡¯re close after this. Just like you said, we¡¯re travelling together, best to know each other a little more, but this is out of my father¡¯s good will. I¡¯ll never forgive you.¡± I shrank back for a moment at the sudden change and venom, but saw a little twitch in her face that told me it was at least partly a front. ¡°Hold on,¡± I said as she moved back to her pallet and started settling back under the sheet. ¡°That¡¯s three from me, only two from you.¡± She squirmed a bit under the covers, and pulled the wool over her head. I heard her little voice come out, a little musical and playful like a child¡¯s: ¡°Only have two. . . .¡± ¡°You devious little . . .¡± Lenya laughed. ¡°She got you, Talbot!¡± I feigned anger and shook my fist at her under the blanket. In the loose weave I imagined I saw her face twist into a smile and stick her tongue out. ¡°Guess she did.¡± At first light, we packed everything up and headed back to the Trade Road. Alator was much the same, but the rest of us were positively giddy. The pain in my shoulder had lessened ¡ª I was now convinced that I healed faster than I did in my previous life; I hardly had much to compare it to, but I made a mental note to get more Constitution. We even shared jokes, and spoke much more easily to one another. Partway through the day, Alator suddenly stopped walking and announced: ¡°I¡¯m hungry, I have to hunt,¡± and then started walking off the Trade Road into the wilds. After shrugging to Lenya, I jogged after him. Akishen quickly followed. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°And what would you be hunting out here?¡± she asked him. My companion shrugged. ¡°Would make more sense to hunt after another hour or so, we can make a fire at lunch, otherwise the meat will start to spoil.¡± ¡°I¡¯m hungry now,¡± he barked shortly, under his breath. ¡°What¡¯s to eat here?¡± I asked Akishen. She shrugged. ¡°All kinds. Looks like there¡¯s not been rain for a little while, but this plain is rife with herbivores that have fled the predators in the jungle.¡± We approached a thicket of dry grass, nearly as tall as a tree, each blade wider than my palm. Alator had a finger to his lips then pointed through the thicket. I glimpsed movement through the grass: a low shape with a long snout, rooting noisily through the dry earth. It was a massive anteater of some description, hide tough and dappled pale brown and red to blend with the scrub, except short, wide horns swept back from its head. The beast grunted, oblivious as Alator crept forwards. ¡°Do we have a plan for ¡ª¡± Akishen started, but I clamped a hand over her mouth. The creature started, probably at Akishen¡¯s gasp rather than her small voice, and its head twitched around in our direction. Like a shadow, Alator was beside it, his great frame shockingly silent. In moments, he was upon it, and with terrifying precision that I¡¯d not witnessed from him before, he seized its neck with one hand and lower jaw with the other, and with a sickening crunch wrenched its head side to side. The anteater collapsed in a heap, a single death throe over in seconds. Akishen let out a low whistle. Alator carried the beast back to the side of the sparse and overgrown Trade Road and he crouched over the beast. Without a word, with pinched fingers, he instantly tore a strip of flesh from its flank with his bare hands and began to eat. Blood slicked his chin, and he chewed with the calm efficiency of someone eating bread (but not the crusts). ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Lenya muttered, stepping back, turning away and gagging. ¡°You¡¯re disgusting,¡± I agreed. Alator ignored us, peeling away another piece of meat and nodding to Akishen. To my surprise, she grinned and squatted beside him, accepting the meat and biting in. Lenya¡¯s shoulders trembled in revulsion. ¡°We could have cooked it,¡± I said. ¡°No time,¡± Alator glanced up, face bloody. I opened my mouth to argue, but suddenly my stomach churned ¡ª and not with disgust. I shook my head and shoved a handful of dried berries and nuts into my face. ¡°Not so bad once you get used to the texture ¡ª sort of like salty leather.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t talk with your mouth full,¡± I spat. At long, long length, Alator stood, licked his lips and wiped his hands on the beast¡¯s hide. Akishen followed suit. Blood caked the fur on her neck and a splash of water from her carafe did little else but move it around. Like a car backfiring, a sharp BOOM rocked the plain. It seemed to echo from the mountains and tear over and through us. All of us went rock solid and stared at the horizon. As we watched, dark clouds emerged as if from the mountain peaks, and boiled. As if at some command ¡ª in Barbican, who knows? ¡ª the air around us grew heavier. ¡°Storm¡¯s coming,¡± Alator grunted, cutting through the mystery and fear. ¡°Lovely,¡± I muttered, and set off again for the mountains on the horizon. Lenya followed, pale-faced. The walk towards the mountains along the road seemed endless ¡ª that strange illusion where the mountains continue to grow taller and more imposing but never closer. And the air took more weight with every step. Beyond, the storm churned, black and grey clouds rolled over one another and twisted like the Boiling Sea. After a couple of hours, lightning began forking across the distant peaks, illuminated jagged ridges. Its flashes left spots in my vision, and each booming crack of thunder followed closer and louder than the last. As the foothills came finally in sight over the broad, arid emptiness, when the horizon ahead was only rock and rising ground, the wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of rain. The wind lashed us, whipping my cloak into wild shapes and forcing Lenya to pull up and hold down the hood of her robe. Alator strode ahead, pace unbroken. I moved to his side and matched him. Then with a sudden burst, the rain came ¡ª not a gentle patter, or a slowly building drizzle, but an instant deluge like an upturned bucket, or walking into the rain from shelter. Within moments, we were soaked, the mountain rain fell cold and heavy, plastering hair and fabric to skin. I pulled the Stonebear Cloak around me and found the worst of it ran off the thick fur, at least for a time. Lightning flashed again, closer now, stark and blinding, followed by a deafening clap that shook the ground. The peaks ahead were ALIVE with light and fury; the storm¡¯s raw power echoed down the slopes like an avalanche. As I squinted through the downpour, discomfort had me reach into the stream of inner power that I¡¯d come to rely on ¡ª the new, brown, sandy light of [Survivalism] glinted. Even knowing it was there grounded me, and I reached out for it. I turned my face to the storm, feeling for its signs, listening for its voice. I saw the rain wasn¡¯t constant, that it ebbed and flowed in waves, the lulls came with drops in sound, like deep breaths before the storm surged again. My eyes felt clear, even pelted with rain, my senses were guided to sounds and smells. Somehow, I learnt the rain wasn¡¯t clean; the faint tang of disturbed soil and crushed roots told me somewhere, rocks or a fallen tree had broken loose, scattering sediment through the storm. The texture of the soil changed, the surface loosed and steps became muddy. ¡°Flash flood coming!¡± I shouted over the bedlam. Alator nodded. As I looked above, the Skill gave knowledge: Clouds moving westward. ¡°It¡¯ll pass in an hour as long as we stay out of the thick of it!¡± Peering through the heavy rain felt like squinting through deep water, but I saw the Trade Road heading upwards in a few different paths. Water pooling downhill ¡ª treacherous, came the thought. ¡°We need to find higher ground ¡ª fast.¡± And at that moment the wind shifted suddenly, cold and sharp, carrying a smell I recognised, sharp and metallic, like burning wires, a static charge building and ready to explode. "And lightning!" I called. C68 : Edin-Baraz Mountains We ran. At a sprint, our feet dug into the new muck and came down hard on the firm ground beneath it. Feeling rusty, I flashed [Vigour : Endurance] to shake off the weight in my shoulders and the ringing in my ears, and forged on. Rain ran rivulets down the craggy outcrops, pooling briefly in cracks before spilling over in rushing streams that carved paths into the plains that were bone dry only two hours before. Alator and I took the lead. His broad shoulders were unwavering, and I found the strength in my own made the way at least somewhat bearable. Akishen was a few steps back, even her lithe legs stomping heavily, weighed down by her soaked leathers, shielding her face from the cold sheets of rain with her hand. Lenya, falling behind often, clung to the hem of her hood and pressed her staff to her chest. If she had magic that might help, she had no opportunity to reach for it. Perhaps, as she has to draw on the elements, drawing on a storm like this is too dangerous, I mused. And we made it to the foot of the mountains. The path widened suddenly into a broad, rocky pass, flanked by jagged cliffs on either side, and two others wound away on either side, and down one I could see it split again to drowned goat¡¯s paths a few yards in. Lightning crackled overhead, harsh light illuminated the shattered and shattering landscape. A deafening boom followed from right overhead, sounded like the mountains themselves were groaning under the storm¡¯s wrath. Yet there was something else ¡ª an eerie undertone beneath the thunder like a keening wail. Carried and echoed off the stone, hollow and disjointed. Cries of mad, wrathful spirits. A BUZZ in my right ear near popped an eardrum. SYS launched into her tirade, speaking straight into my mind but voice as deep and loud as She could make it: // SYS : Witness, oh bold traveler, the unfathomable heights of the Edin-Baraz, the steadfast crown of Uruk¡¯s southern gates! Behold, where the mountains rise not as stone, but as titanic spires carved by the hands of gods, their edges sharp as bronze blades, scraping the heavens themselves! // ¡°I don¡¯t care about the mountain edges!¡± I screamed, roaring over the elements. // SYS : Marvel at the cascading mists that coil like serpents through the jagged passes, hiding both peril and wonder in their ghostly embrace. // ¡°There¡¯s no mist here, you arse!¡± // SYS : Gaze upon the white-gold peaks, kissed by the eternal suns, and the crimson streaks that trickle down like veins from wounds ancient and forgotten! // ¡°Can¡¯t see the bloody peaks!¡± // SYS : Listen as the winds howl with voices from epochs past, carrying the songs of fallen heroes, the whispers of ancient spirits, and the roaring challenge of the mountains themselves! // ¡°By Jove, can you just ¡ª¡± // SYS : Stop interrupting me, this might be useful . . . Ahem . . . Brave soul, do you dare tread the labyrinth of shadowed valleys and glittering ice caverns, where each step echoes with defiance against the crushing weight of time itself? Do you dare face the trials etched into the bones of the Edin-Baraz? Keep to the path! Only the unyielding shall pass unbroken! Keep to the path! Only the steadfast shall earn the right to behold Uruk''s sacred bowl beyond! Keep to the path! // ¡°Yeah, real useful, thanks! Can¡¯t you at least do something about the weather?¡± // SYS : I¡¯m not a god, Talbot. We command the essence of spent souls, nothing more. // ¡°Useless System,¡± I grunted. I crunched up the side of the mountain as the pass steepened, gravel underfoot running wet with white water. I focused on the terrain. The rocky ground was strewn with broken trees, branches twisted and shattered. Yet, curiously, the larger boughs had been shifted, their weight pressed heavily into the ground. Some branches had been severed cleanly, not splintered by wind or rain. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Despite the mania and painful, pelting rain, I couldn¡¯t help but walk close by one and spent a moment centring myself, reaching inside the stream of my inner power, which seemed far away, for [Survivalism] once more. The cut wasn¡¯t weathered ¡ª the severed edge was smooth and the heavy rain tumbled over saw lines. It was deliberate, precise, and more, fresh. Not storm damage, something big did this, with a massive serrated edge. But I couldn¡¯t dwell. Another flash of lightning illuminated the path ahead, and we made further in. Flanked by the tall walls, pressed against one side, the rain was less fierce, but the wind was even stronger. ¡°Hold a minute!¡± came Akishen¡¯s shrieking voice. Glancing behind, past her concerned mandrill face, I saw Lenya had collapsed against the side of the wall. ¡°Alator!¡± I roared over the noise. He turned and, with a mixture of rage and empathy both, stopped in his way and came back to us all. We huddled together against the safer side of the rockface. Lenya tore her head up to look at me. She wore her exhaustion heavy on her face, and her eyes were gleaming. She mouthed, ¡°Sorry, I can¡¯t.¡± Got to work on her Constitution. The way her SYS seems to function is that it distributes points according to her lifestyle ¡ª this should work! Each thunderclap had us flinch and I glanced about, expecting to see rocks fall, everyone die, but for a little while at least we were safe there, and we let the worst of the storm pass. As the dark clouds finally moved over, leaving the sky overcast bright white but with only a very light rain, Akishen jumped away from the rock and put her palms together. ¡°Praying?¡± I asked. ¡°My patha said that these storms are born of old grudges.¡± ¡°Does seem it was summoned by that racket we heard before we reached the mountains,¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯ve been cutting up trees as well, gathering firewood, it seemed to me. They¡¯re probably still around.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll be the Taruk-Tal, only things I can think of that might be able to do that, though I¡¯ve not heard of it myself. They¡¯re the giants of Edin-Baraz.¡± ¡°Tak-tak-tak?¡± ¡°Yeah, they¡¯re named that for the clattering sound of their stone skin grinding together,¡± Akishen explained with a quick smile, clearly thanking her father for what education she did receive. ¡°They always move in tribes, so if we see one, we better hide.¡± I turned to Alator. ¡°Hear that?¡± After a few moments of meeting my eye with an imperceptible look, my companion nodded. ¡°Heard.¡± The rain continued as we walked along the mountain paths. The suns fell and dimmed and disappeared, and we luckily found a thin crag, only just wide enough for us to squeeze into, which opened up into a small cave with a pool of shockingly cold water which Alator confirmed (after brazenly trying some) was fit to drink. The next day, the rain had stopped, but loosened the mountainside, and all morning we climbed a steep, rocky stretch at an awful angle. High above, thick snow was lit glistening, and with every rush of wind some was whipped up by the wind, and thrown about ¡ª sent out to powder. The loose earth and debris had tumbled over much of the Trade Road and limited it in parts to only a couple of feet, which we sidled along, daring ourselves to glance down at the near-sheer drop a hundred feet to rushing water. I felt perfectly sure-footed until the moment shale gave out or the pebbles proved too shallow and a leg shot out over the precipice and my heart leapt. Akishen or Lenya were always at my back to steady me, and if I heard any sudden movements from behind me, I was always able to lightning fast turn and catch them before they tumbled. ¡°This will take weeks to clear. . . . Do you think this was intentional, as well?¡± I heard Lenya ask Akishen over the wind. ¡°The Taruk-Tal being defensive? I couldn¡¯t imagine it. . . .¡± Then like the grumbling from a colossal throat of a waking beast, a rumble began as we walked, which grew and grew. Louder and more immediate, waves of sound rushing towards us and building each time, it became a deafening roar as a WALL of snow, mud and boulders cascaded down the slope a few hundred yards ahead. As the world exploded, our position became shifting, churning noise and mania. One foot rose and the other fell, but ultimately the mountain seemed to be mercifully holding us. I reached into the perfectly clear flowing stream in my mind¡¯s eye and clutched hold of [Battle Tactics : Metavision]. My vision was lit up with contour lines, criss-crossed, like topography or a video game devlog, and my attention was caught instantly by a dozen or so accidents waiting to happen; a pitfall under footing, a broken junt of shale that seemed a steady handhold but would fall with a half ounce of weight, and another sheet of snow set to fall, but much further away than the first. Then in my periphery I saw a handful of stones like a bullet soaring down from the peak of the mountain. Without thinking, I grabbed Alator by both arms and threw him into the rock to his right. The Within another moment, it was a savage winter wonderland. The air filled with snow so thick it became mist, the noise ricocheted off every surface and rebounded through my skull to have me near fall to the floor, clutching my head. ¡°Is everyone all right?¡± I yelled in the silence, bedlam still racking my mind, blinking with squinted eyes through the white. Three calls came back to me, all very close-by. ¡°Don¡¯t move until it clears!¡± This took some minutes, but eventually the texture of the world reappeared to reveal a completely new scene. The Trade Road was cut off entirely by what looked like a newly-formed mountain of precarious, built-up earth and snow. Guess we¡¯re not keeping to the path. C69 : Taruk-Tal Alator, for a brief, dumb moment, set off towards the makeshift mountain that had swallowed the Trade Road. ¡°We¡¯re not crossing that!¡± I shouted at him. With the lines of [Battle Tactics : Metavision] just fading, I was confident there was absolutely no path to take, and any attempt to carve one without an army of labourers would be an exercise in insanity. He took one last look at it, as if frustrated with the knowledge that he¡¯s not quite as powerful as an avalanche, then relented and came back to the group. We doubled back for a short time and found one of the goat paths. None of us had any keen ideas, and with the terrain being so blocked and wild, [Survivalism] did not assist us much at all, save for informing us of the flora and fauna; there were thick claw marks in the stones as if dinosaurs had passed through ¡ª I¡¯ll admit to experiencing a sudden thrill. And so after an hour of searching, we simply chose the trail that had the most flowers ¡ª jagged silver leaves on a tall, spiny weed. With the Analysis Card, I found the flowers were called Stormweave Thistle, but that they had no alchemical or enchantment uses. ¡°Fewer beasts,¡± Akishen said. ¡°Or more predators. . . .¡± I grumbled. ¡°So negative,¡± Akishen smiled. The path we had chosen was a gorge that dipped and rose as it moved between and around mountains. A trickle of water was all that remained moving through it from the rains, but the ground was slick and slippery, the stone perfectly smooth. We steadied ourselves with a hand against the wall as often as we could, and made our way slowly. The wind picked up again and soared through us like I¡¯d scratched my skin on a built-up freezer drawer. I pulled the Stonebear Cloak around myself. ¡°Thanks, Kikiara,¡± I said under my breath, ¡°Wherever you are.¡± Akishen took out a blanket and tied it about herself, and Lenya began a low chant and there was an elemental, uncanny rush of magic which quickly turned all the settled snow on her hair and shoulders to water. Alator pressed on practically nude, of course. Despite the hardship, I was honestly quite enjoying myself. The stint in Ith-Korr had been very rewarding, and on the whole very peaceful and restorative, but I had missed the early days of trekking with Alator into the unknown wild, regardless of the consequences, and solving problems with violence! As if to answer my call, we heard the CRUNCH of a heavy footfall somewhere ahead, then more, getting fainter. Ahead of us, the gorge took a sharp climb, with the walls coming down to meet it, and beyond ¡ª the light of the sky. ¡°The Taruk-Tal!¡± Akishen whispered, dropping to a squat and pressing herself against the side of the cliff-face, half-hidden by a rocky outcrop. ¡°Hide!¡± Lenya did so instantly, but Alator and I shared a glance and . . . just couldn¡¯t help ourselves. We crept to the opening in the crevice, climbing three-point, loosing gravel and flinching every time we made a sound. Cresting over, we saw, disappearing to the left out of sight behind a constructed wall of roughly hewn stone, a stone giant. I only saw its back and one leg, but it was probably no smaller than six yards ¡ª 18 feet ¡ª with skin resembling cracked shale, streaked with veins of dimly glowing minerals. It seemed normally proportioned, save for its extremely long arms. As it moved, the knuckles on one grey hand dragged over the floor. Once it was fully out of sight, I let out a whistle. INSTANT regret ¡ª the Taruk-Tal¡¯s head appeared again like a mask of hollowed eyes, glowing faintly across the snow field. It gazed around with its head cocked, then turned its head fully in our direction. I pushed Alator down ¡ª his wild red hair would be visible a mile off (I¡¯m sure that¡¯s his intention), but I just couldn¡¯t pull myself away. The enormous head was still for almost a full minute, and through the haze I saw its head twitch and nostrils flare as it sniffed the air. Then it stretched to its full height, bellowed out a laugh that sounded like shovelled gravel, and disappeared again in the same direction. I fell against the slope of the gorge and blew out my lungs. Alator popped his head up again to make sure the coast was clear, then we waved on Akishen and Lenya. ¡°That was a giant, wasn¡¯t it? One of the . . . Taruk-Tal,¡± Alator breathed through a wild grin ¡°It was. Amazing!¡± I exclaimed, trying to keep my voice down. ¡°Amazing?! Horrifying! We¡¯re lucky to be alive! By all my ancestors, I¡¯m going to pray to the spirits of the mountain for an hour tonight.¡± ¡°Oh, relax,¡± I said, clapping her shoulder and jabbed a thumb back at the entrance to the gorge. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t even fit through here.¡± She gulped and shook her head. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t need to,¡± and then she pointed up, where the gorge was broadly open to the sky. ¡°It¡¯s said they can climb sheer rock, and leap from mountain to mountain.¡± ¡°They¡¯re no bigger than the Abominable you destroyed when you first came to Barbican. Think you could take one?¡± I nudged Alator, foul glint in my eye matching his. Instead of instantly answering, he looked to Akishen. ¡°Are they clever? Cunning?¡± ¡°Famously not, but ¡ª¡± she shook her head. Her fear abated a touch at our confidence ¡ª or idiocy. ¡°I could take three or four before I fell,¡± Alator declared. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. We sheepishly made our way over the plateau, flanked by cliffs and spires. Our footsteps crunched shale and new snow, by superstition I avoided walking in the heavy footprints left by the giants as they passed this way. The path continued in two directions; one followed the giants, so we chose the other. Nearing the far edge, the wind howled through the crag and over our bodies. Lenya and Akishen drew close their wrappings again, and Alator and I stood on the precipice: The air had been left crisp and cool by the storm, points of blue broke in the storm-grey above, edged with molten gold from the suns. Standing high in the mountains, a vista unfurled before us, vast and staggering, as though the world had spilled open. Jagged peaks rose like a titanic broken crown in all directions, edges and snowcaps gleaming in the clearing light. And within the curved mountains on near all sides, making up a flat pate, narrow streams cascaded downwards like silver threads weaving between shallow valleys. Rolling hills and broad fields were parcelled to the green-yellow and gold of dry farmland like a patchwork quilt. I imagined I tasted the fresh, clean air, heard the faint hum of distant life, the rustling of recognisable leaves, the faint song of water. And nestled within it all, at the centre of the natural semi-arid bowl, was Uruk. The city was an intricate marvel of high walls, polished stone, tall watchtowers crowned with banners, and canals moving through the city into a broad lake within the walls. The east of the city belched smoke ¡ª faint and orderly, the mark of countless forges and hearths. The west blended to the yellow-green surroundings as terraced gardens became olive groves. Alator stood beside me, scanning the expanse with wide eyes, and spoke in a small, wondrous voice that I¡¯d only heard once or twice: ¡°Looking on this, I feel as if I¡¯ve never before seen a city.¡± Lenya and Akishen joined us, their breath catching as they took in the sight. ¡°It always stuns,¡± the mandrill-faced girl let out a brief gasp and wide smile, but then surveyed the rest of the land beneath us and saw we had a far way to go through the mountains. Without closing my eyes, I turned my sight to within me, to the stream of inner power, and felt myself revitalised. With [Survival], a few paths over the edge and down through the mountains opened up, but they all seemed fraught and difficult, I couldn¡¯t parse between them with my ability. Eventually, feeling the moment pass and Lenya and Akishen shiver, and Alator turn to me expectantly, I felt the weight of responsibility ¡ª and the suns dipping towards another terrible night. ¡°We know our heading.¡± I gave another scrutinising look below to the loose ground and jagged rocks, with snow teetering in all places and winding zig-zag paths threatening to drop at any moment. Then, the crunch of stone behind us. We all turned to see three cautious creatures stalking towards us. Moving on all fours like lizards, perhaps four feet from nose to where their long tails started, with short, fat bodies on spindly legs and rock armour covering their backs. I turned and levelled my spear at them. Can¡¯t have them chasing us down the mountain, we need our wits and full attention to ¡ª Then my eyes picked up further movement and saw three others, high above, attached to the wall with gripping claws, the rock nearly perfectly blended in with the mountain face. Then on the other side, three others. The longer I stared at the rock, the more appeared, like staring at stars in the night sky. I reached into my pouch and touched the Analysis Card.
Fiend : Gravelback A, Level 3
Stats : Str 7, Dex 4, Con 11, Mnd 2
Attacks : Charge, Slam
Loot : Broken Fang, Gravel Scale
Weakness : Sensitive joints
XP : 26
Fiend : Gravelback B, Level 3
Weakness : Over reliant on the high ground
Fiend : Gravelback C, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback D, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback E, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback F, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback G, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback H, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback I, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback J, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback K, Level 3
Fiend : Gravelback L, Level 3
Shit. ¡°That way!¡± I pointed. And we jumped off down the cliff.