Melkin Wright, Priestess of The Blooming Hand, shouted, “Why couldn’t you just kill it?!”
The Mayor, Travis Foghorn, raised his hands in noncommittal surrender. “I’ve explained my reasoning. He wants to set up the outpost? Fine by me. We just need it up and operational.”
She shoved a finger into his chest and pushed him back a few feet, out of her temple. “You’re going to regret this decision.”
“He is trying to help,” Travis replied as he took a few steps back and glanced around at the now-awake and attentive townsfolk. “When someone throws themselves into danger for you, what do you do? You help them.”
Melkin slammed the left of the two double doors leading to the temple, and dropped the bar that locked it. She took in several shuddering breaths. “Blooming Hand,” she whispered as she rested her forehead against the smoothed, worn wood. “Please…guide me.”
She stood upright and walked to the altar. Going behind it, she reached down into the alcove which contained her ritual candles. She had been given several, which could reach out to other religious organizations within a specific range. It was a magical beacon, a cry for help, and she had one for a specific group.
Melkin grabbed the candle marked for the Dawnbringers, and as she lit it and watched it burn, she said her ten seconds of an audible message. “Your companions at Greywatch are slain. An undead lays claim to the place: one of your fallen. Hasten to Mistbrook!”
The candle burned out the rest of the way, and Melkin sighed. She knew she was doing the right thing…but there was some kernel of discomfort in her stomach. For a moment, a brief one, she considered what she did might have been wrong.
But, Melkin pushed that feeling aside. “No matter,” she mumbled as she scraped the wax off of the altar and into a pocket. “Undead deserve their rest. I’m just helping him along, is all.”
***
Luke could practically feel the vibrant environment surrounding him as the hours dragged on and sunlight poked through the canopy in places. It was almost serene, and the fog that was once up to his chest height the night prior had faded down to his feet, casting the whole space in a mysterious, magical-forest vibe that oozed adventure and mystery.
The scene reminded him of the experience that had taken him closest to nature, when he was studying abroad at Oxford, and his lads took him on a day trip to the countryside. They rode some horses across the plains, and when Luke recalled the memory, it brought a little smile to his face. It was the first time in his life he had ever seen so much grass, rolling out in a seemingly endless expanse, unmarred by the fires of industry and the skylines of shattered dreams that he had known so well in his youth surrounded by concrete and metal.
Perhaps, he thought, I could get myself a horse corpse, and then raise a skeletal mount. This world has to be large, since it never stops expanding. I bet there’s so many incredible sights to see. Though, I’d need to get some type of saddle setup, so that I’m not crushing my bits against a horse’s bone spine.
That brought something to mind he hadn’t considered yet, and he logged away a note to himself for later to see if this body, this undead form, was even capable of utilizing its anatomy. Luke doubted so, but as he considered the concept for a moment longer, the possible loss of sensations of many kinds surged to the forefront of his mind.
Would he be able to taste food? He loved having a good slice of deep dish with a beer. Would he be able to get drunk and sing songs in the pub? Those were some of his fondest experiences during college. Would he be able to have sex? Granted, finding someone to do that with a corpse would be difficult, but those people had to exist somewhere. Would he be able to smell anything that wasn’t incredibly pungent? Taking a few sniffs, he found that the smell he expected—fresh undergrowth and the scent of the outdoors—was heavily muted.
Those thoughts rattled in his brain, and he almost tripped over a root as he realized he needed to come to terms with one, crystalline truth: it was possible that he would not feel any type of sensation aside from pain and warmth ever again.
“Watch it,” Percy said as he put out a hand, seemingly by reflex, to help keep Luke upright.
Luke didn’t need the hand and waved off the help. “I’m good. Just got caught by surprise, is all.” He firmly pushed away those questioning thoughts, and resolved to experiment a bit once he could, with as much as he could. He had to know his limits, and maybe if he learned those, he could find a workaround. What good was living and making other’s lives better if he couldn’t enjoy it, too?
Captain Amara, who had been leading with her troupe, stopped. Luke caught up to her, and she glanced backward before saying, “You’re up.”
“Hmm?”
The Captain pointed into a clearing. Luke could see a Fog Creeper, a big one, bent over a body. She whispered, “That is the largest size they come in. You take the lead.”
Luke had, thankfully, healed himself fully and had plenty of time to regenerate his Mana and Stamina. Getting a tenth of both back each minute meant he only needed ten minutes to go back to full. If he had enough time, he could spam out Pale Flame Bolt to heal himself as well.
“Well…if you are sure—”
“Positive,” Amara replied. “You charge, get it turned around, and we’ll unload bolts into it.”
“Seems like a solid plan,” Luke replied as he drew his sword:
Okay, let’s see here…Commit 40 Mana and 20 Stamina for both Black Guard and Chill field to be active, and then wait ten seconds to use Marrowsteel Plate three times.
As he stood there, not breathing, he could feel the weight of Marrowsteel growing over him and along his armor. White bones, dripping crimson ichor that sucked back into his body, spread all across his form and promised protection. The black shield that formed on his arm he willed into that familiar heater shape, and the sphere of black and blue sparkles surged out from him until it hit the max radius possible.
[Health: 120 / 120 {Barrier: 36}]
[Mana: 20 / 80 {120}]
[Stamina: 55 / 96 {116}]
Here we go.
Luke ran into the clearing, and the Fog Creeper turned around to face him and his headlong charge. It was dripping blood from its mouth, and its large, white eyes locked onto him. Branches and vines covered its body like armor, and the flesh beneath was a deep, murky brown like the color of mud at the bottom of a river. The creature let out a roar, and raised its hand.
Reflexes told Luke to raise his shield, and he did so, protecting his torso and head. He could hear the plink and pang of projectiles bouncing off of his shield, but a few found his lower abdomen and legs, siphoning away some of his barrier.
{Barrier: 31}
He heard the squelching of mud beneath his heavy tread, and the moment his Chill Field reached the monster, Luke could feel its presence. He knew exactly where it was, though it was like a blob in infrared, heat vision: just a knowledge of where something was, without definition. He pulled his shield to his left, and continued his charge past the creature, striking with a horizontal swing as he did so.
The blade made a loud tang noise as it cut into the wood, and then was followed up by the monster roaring in pain as Luke’s momentum tore the weapon free. Thanks to the blade being damaged and chipped, chunks of flesh came out with the edge, spraying Luke with black blood. Luke reached the other side of the monster and pivoted to face it head-on, making sure he couldn’t see Captain Amara or the guards behind it.
That’s when the monster lunged forward, mouth wide open, and claws both extended. Luke had to block the coming claws with his sword and shield, and when the jaws came clamping down toward him, he had to intentionally fall backward onto his ass to avoid the terrifying snap of the teeth.
Twang—thunk! Twang—thunk!
The noise repeated itself four times as the Captain and the five guards all let loose with their bolts. The monster roared and wheeled around, and Luke used that moment to stand up, and in his kneeling position, he chopped into the leg.
Crack!
The weapon struck true, chopping halfway through the relatively thin leg, but when it hit bone, the weapon split in half in Luke’s grip. He stood up fully as the monster fell to a knee, and swung wildly with its claw in a backhand strike which Luke easily intercepted with his shield. Still holding a sharp bit of metal, he stabbed into the back of the monster’s arm, and despite the lack of reach, he was able to cut with enough force that the appendage went limp.
“Reloading!” Amara shouted.
Luke was about to reply, but the creature glowed a deep, vibrant green, and exploded with a surge of energy that sent him tumbling back. It burned away all of his Marrowsteel, and he went crashing to the ground next to the roots of a tree.
[Health: 80 / 120]
[Resistance Increase: Life (-23%) → (-22%).]
“Ow,” Luke grunted out as he felt a deep soreness spread through his entire body. He had not expected or encountered anything like that thus far: something akin to magic that was used offensively against him. An Art like what he had, perhaps, but one that was aligned with Life, which he was vulnerable to. His skin crawled and itched, just like when he had come down with chickenpox. It was maddening, and lingered as he stood up. Glancing down, he saw the little stump of a sword he had remaining.
Looking back to the Fog Creeper, he saw that its body had mended, and the grass and ground around it had grown with new, vibrant stalks that pierced up a good five feet, partially shrouding it from the crossbowmen across the clearing from Luke. He had perfect vision of it, though, and was far from helpless. With 10 of his remaining 20 Mana, he used Pale Flame Bolt. The flames crackled to life in his palm holding the pommel of the sword, and he thrust it forward as he took a step.
Fwoosh!
The flames surged out, slammed into the thing from behind, splashed from it, and destroyed the bits of grass that it touched. The monster let out a wail from the pain, and spun around.
Twang—thunk!
More bolts fired, and the monster got low to the ground, though one bolt found its mark. Another sailed right past, and hit Luke’s pauldron, pinging off and going to his right somewhere in the trees. He clenched his teeth unintentionally at that, despite it not causing him much pain. He wanted to shout back at them to watch where they were shooting, but knew it wouldn’t earn him any points with the Captain. Suffering in silence and doing what they asked of him was the way to get a decent report out of them and back to the town to accomplish his goals.
The Fog Creeper crawled forward on all fours like a monster from a bad horror movie. Its claws dug deep into the ground, carving gouges into the grass, and it opened its mouth and shrieked.
Luke debated using another Pale Flame Bolt, but thought better of it, wanting to save the healing for himself if necessary. He was on his feet, ready for the monster, and as it closed distance with him…it moved sharply to his right, and vanished into the trees. He was staring after it for a moment when the Captain’s voice shouted out, coming closer.
“Go after it! We can follow it back to the nest!” She rushed past Luke without a second glance.
The other guards ran by, and Percy was the only one to pause for a moment. He glanced at Luke’s broken blade, then pulled a dagger from his hip sheath. “Keep up!”
Luke dropped his broken sword and picked up the new weapon.
[Weapon Acquired: Baselard (standard).]
“Right then,” Luke said. “Just a step behind you.” He followed Percy into the trees, and made sure to keep right on his heels in the rush. The guards in the front didn’t stumble or fall over roots, very sure in their step as if they had run through the forest before. For all Luke knew, they had, and this was a common activity they engaged in.
He opted to use the last of his mana on a Pale Flame Bolt to restore some of his health, and the lack of Mana left a hollow feeling in his gut. He had no way to heal himself anymore. If he suffered more injuries, he would possibly die again. For the first time since waking up in this body and dealing with the Necromancer, the felt the flicker of anxiety and fear. He wasn’t some unstoppable, undead juggernaut—he was just Luke the data analyst turned Gravebound Knight. And he had seen Undead Creatures die just as easily as the fog creepers.
It slowed his pace, and Percy didn’t seem to notice. Luke wanted to do good in this life—he wanted to be someone who saved people and used his powers to help. But how could he help if he died?
The smart thing, he thought as he took in the information, is to stay as far back as possible, and hope we have enough time in this chase for me to regenerate some of my—
A scream pierced the daytime sky somewhere in front of him, and the rustle of leaves and calls of birds fleeing the area told Luke that something very bad had happened. He pushed that caution aside and went forward.
Percy and the guards had been beset from all sides by Fog Creepers. Smaller ones, the size of a yorkshire terrier, and were dealing with them with their daggers. Crossbows had been dropped, and the group of guards was busy trying to guard their shins and fight off the foes. They were fast little fuckers, and the moment Luke’s aura encompassed them, the monsters turned to him and charged.
Fuck me, Luke thought.
He flipped the knife point-down and gripped it tightly as the monsters fell upon him. He had heavy armor—far heavier than that of the guards—and thus the monster’s claws didn’t do much but screech off. He stabbed down, impaling one of the small things in the spine, and it instantly perished, fading to mush with a tiny, glimmering green crystal at the center. The rest fell just as easily, and Luke only suffered a few scratches and claws to the wrists and one unlucky one that got below his jaw, right along the throat. But, none of the wounds felt that injurious, and even the one that would’ve sliced his jugular and caused him to bleed out everywhere was a minor nuisance, at most, as Luke worked his jaw up and down.
[Health: 74 / 120]
[Experience Gained: 567. Current Experience: 1017 / 1000.]
The voice of The Last Warden met his ears once more. But, it didn’t sound like a personalized message, filled with a sense of purpose and guidance. It sounded like a recording.
[You have enough Experience to level-up. Would you like to level-up at this time?]
Luke stayed crouched, listening to the sounds of the guards panting and asking one another if they were alright. He didn’t hear anything else—nothing but the other people near him. It was quiet, but if the animals had vacated from the sudden scream of pain, he figured no noise was good. He began gathering the Life shards.
Yes, he thought.
A surge of energy flushed through his body. It felt incredible, and he almost let out an unintentional sigh of satisfaction as a sensation rushed through his body. It reminded him of getting there with a fine lady: a feeling of fulfilled satisfaction that left a tingle in his toes and fingertips.
Just as quickly as it came, it went, and he felt nothing once more.
[Experience consumed: 1000. Remaining Experience: 17.]
[Level achieved! Level 11.]
[Level 11: Gain +1 Tenacity, +1 Essence, +1 Free Point]
[Please allocate your Free Point now . . .]
Put it into Acuity, Luke thought as he pushed the sensation from earlier from his mind.
[Choose 1 Art and 1 Aspect to put a Rank into.]
[NOTE: You cannot use this on your highest existing Art or Aspect, or those without Ranks.]
Oh now that is interesting, Luke thought. There is a means to prevent abilities from falling behind too much if they don’t progress from natural use. Very well. Let’s upgrade Chill Field, and…how does it work when I have Aspects tied for Rank?
[You may use it to break the tie.]
Then into Armor Familiarity.
[Art Increase: Chill Field 1 → 2 (Apply a 2% slow to Living Creatures, and a 2% acceleration to Undead Creatures).]
[Aspect Increase: Armor Familiarity 3 → 4 (gain +4% damage resistance when wearing armor.).]
[Would you like to see your full status screen?]
Yes, Luke thought.
-----
Name: Luke Rivers.
Class: Gravebound Knight 11 (Tier 1).
Vigor: 20
Instinct: 10
Tenacity: 22
Acuity: 20
Essence: 20
-----
Health: 125
Mana: 126
Stamina: 119
Initiative: 31
Focus: 42
Burden: 31.5
Command: 43
-----
Arts: Corpse Retainer 2, Black Guard 3, Pale Flame Bolt 2, Marrowsteel Plate 2, Chill Field 2.
Aspects: Enduring Soul 3, Undead Creature 1, Melee Familiarity (Blade) 3, Armor Familiarity 4, Gravebound Fortitude 1.
Resistances: Blunt (0%), Pierce (0%), Slash (0%), Heat (1%), Cold (25%), Spark (0%), Caustic (2%), Toxin (100%), Force (0%), Holy (-50%), Life (-22%), Death (100%), Soul (10%), Mind (10%), Curse (25%), Void (0%).
Equipment: Very damaged Scale Mail Armor (fine), Baselard (standard).
Essence Shards: x33 T1 Life, x9 T1 sub-Life, x3 T1 Death
XP / Threshold: 17 / 1000
-----
Health: 74 / 125
Mana: 0 / 86 {126}
Stamina: 55 / 99 {119}
Command Limit: 0 / 43
-----