by A Uscila
Dumbfounded, Wail couldn’t believe what just happened. Willow was laughing and Bob seemed to be stunned to an extent as well. Though most likely due to different reasons.
What kind of summoning spell was that? You call that a minion? Alternative Reality just had to smack Wail around once again, didn’t it? With no other choice – Wail had to perform his signature movement with extra vigor. A permanent palm-print om his forehead is a likely prediction of the future. Ridiculous. Beyond common sense. Beyond sense at all.
“Would you stop laughing damn it?!” – He suddenly shouted at Willow, once his cup of patience seemed to overflow. Like an angry dog, Wail practically snarled - spit scattering to the sides during the process. Poor girl, she was probably spooked. Or should have been.
Willow stopped laughing, sure. But she simply shrugged the directed anger off - “No need for all that drama, I’m finished” – She replied quite calmly – “Though you have to admit, that was quite hilarious. What an interesting spell you got there. I’m sure it will be useful in the future”- Willow added with a crooked smile. Yeah, the sarcasm was hard to miss.
Since replying to that would only ignite another conflict, Wail decided to turn his attention to another matter. He observed the leather-bound book that was held firmly with his right hand. If only Wail didn’t indulge himself into its’ content. If only the mage had any idea what he was getting into. Of course, none of it was possible – most likely nobody could have known what was written within the book. Let alone understand it – as the content was written in a foreign tongue. Yet Wail could understand all of it. Not read, but understand, while looking within the well-kept pages. Seems like this was a book that depicted a brief, yet more detailed history of the fallen race he previously encountered within the dungeon. Visions of its’ past that is. Kingdom of Silica. A Kingdom that fell to the might of humanity and its’ united offensive. One that was demolished and properly stomped out once all their defenses fell. People - enslaved, forced to see their culture fade. A cruel fate, to be sure. Yet it seems that not every single one of them died out - as quite a few managed to flee to faraway lands. There’s even mention of different dimensions - using a portal through which demonic forces were invited into the world. Yet the info seemed vague and bloated. Fairytale-like even, thus hardly believable. By the looks of it - Wail will have no choice but to investigate personally. All he needed to find was a member of the fallen race. How hard could that be? He’d just need to turn around and “Bam!” there it is…Or it would be quite nice if things were that easy.
Indeed. This game really did enjoy forcing Wail on wild goose-chases, making him waste time on irrelevant things. Pummeling his bubble of superiority without mercy. Why was he playing this game again?
Unexpectedly, or expectantly by now – the game supplied a respite. A much welcome one, considering the train of thought that Wail was about to embark on.
As the three indulged themselves in the aftermath of the little show – a few figures joined them at their campsite. Weapons drawn, five unfriendly-looking individuals walked out of the bushes that surrounded the campfire. Rugged, variously clothed and obviously hostile.
“Enough jibber-jabber ladies, you’re coming with…”- One of the five said without any proper introduction. Or tried to – until he saw Wail. For some reason he suddenly froze up. His self-confident smirk now gone from sight. Though for a time - he seemed to be the only one with a reaction of this type. “Jim! Look! They actually do have a lady here! Ain't that funny? “- One of the colleagues of the former fella commented while pointing at Willow, yet joined in after noticing minion number one. Thus two of the five were now frozen in place, while the remaining three exchanged uneasy glances and started to back off without even taking a good look at the opposition.
Sadly, it was too late – as Wail already stood up from his thinking position. Bob had his weapon drawn and Willow seemed to be aiming at one of the bandits – an arrow readied in her bow. Minion number one? Continued staggering about - oblivious. Did not seem like he was in the mood for action at the moment.
Before any action could start though – the bandit named Jim decided to do something unexpected. He fell to his knees in front of Wail, hands held together – turning religious at the worst possible time to be sure. Soon enough, the four remaining joined in - which unsettles the three even more.
“Please, oh great one! Forgive us earth worms, for we did not know it was you! We beg you to honor us with your presence within our base, for it would be a blessing!” – A sudden 180 degree turn. Quite unexpected, yet quite welcome by the look of how Wail seemed to simply shine. He towered above the five fellows with both hands on his waist. A simply glowing expression, a little more and he might just twist his own neck off – so highly was his chin raised. A most pleasing development to be sure.
Of course, the rest of the group just had to ruin the moment. Or more like Willow had – as everyone approached the spectacle.
“What the fuck is this?”- An obvious question, as Willow carried out her role with one eyebrow raised - a hand extended towards the nonsense in front. Frowning ever so slightly. Bob on the other hand quickly positioned himself on Wails' left, close enough to make it seem like he was one of the worshiped. What a glory fiend that one.
“What?" - Wail shrugged - "I find this to be quite the welcome change. You yourself kept on nagging about too many enemies. It’s about time someone appreciated my presence”- With a barely visible smile - he just couldn't turn away from the most welcome sight. No one has ever knelt to him before. He might just get used to this.
More than likely – the five were bandits. Low tier bunch at that – if his measly amount of negative reputation managed to turn them into this poor excuse of a party. Either way, Wail couldn’t help but wonder what kind of an effect his reputation will have on the rest of their bunch – “Lead me to your hide-out! I will gladly pay a visit with my colleagues here” – An inflated tone, mannerisms that would make a baby cry, or Willow puke. Heck – for a moment it was about to come true, though she forcefully swallowed it down, by the looks of it.
“Are you sure you want to enter a bandit hideout? Filled with cutthroat bandits and the like?”- She asked after regaining her cool, pretending like she did not just puke a little bit in her mouth. Admirable.
“Yes”- Wail replied in an extremely laconic manner, brows slightly furrowed, a serious look painted on that hollow face of his – “Before that though. Let’s share our stat screens. About time we find out more about each other” – He added after directing that overly serious stare at Willow.
Obviously, she was about to object – only to be stopped by a raised hand from Wail. “Of course, we will show ours first. If we’re going to stick together, we need to at least know each other’s levels and bare capabilities. Agreed?”- He finished. Still the same composed, serious expression. It did not suit the fellow at all. Though his unbearably ugly features did seem to soften when he’s not frowning like a bear with a splinter in his paw. Willow was surprised.
“Fine” – And unexpectedly, she seemed to agree as well. Things were quite upside-down today. A smart Bob. A serious and actually correct Wail. A cooperative Willow. Yep. Calm before the storm.
*******
Large wooden twin-doors opened-up with a bang as a shining figure stepped inside the Chapel. Its' main hall filled up with crowds of people – right up to a decorated pedestal on a heightened platform. The altar. A dark red carpet leading up towards it. Rows of armed individuals stood alongside it - creating a tunnel with crossed spears serving as a ceiling.
They wore pure white robes – their bottom cut up into strands of cloth, embroidered in green and littered with various drawings and symbols. Heavy steel plate covered their chests, feet and arms. Heads hidden away under helmets from the same material – narrow line-shaped holes for the eyes at the top of their bucket like forms. Every single one wielded the same weaponry – a large rectangular shield with rounded cor
ners and a long spear. On each shield, the same symbol - a white hammer in a field of green, with golden lightning in between. The Church of Pedro.
Those that stood further away wore either simple white robes or simple, even casual clothing. Yet every single one had the same symbol on various places – usually the right shoulder. Except the individual at the center of attention.
With loud clacking, the figure entered the hall and walked into the tunnel of plate and spears, muffled echoes drifting across the hall as plated feet stepped onto the red carpet – the cloth not thick enough to soak in all the noise or keep the stone beneath it far enough from contact. Golden curls of medium length danced atop his head - brushing past his ears with every step taken.
A man tall and of broad shoulders and a bulky physique. Of course – it was quite hard to tell as he, like many present – wore similar attire. A white robe underneath heavy armor - embroidered in red, instead of green, unlike the rest of those present. An emblem with the same symbolism as witnessed before amongst many a person within this spacious hall, drawn in the center of his breastplate. Uncommonly – he wore extravagant shoulders of the same material as the rest of his gear, masterfully made out to look like screaming white skulls – polished to an eye-numbing sheen. Quite morbid symbolism for a member of a holy order. Yet none seemed to mind – as everyone looked at the man with awe. A large egg-shaped shield rested on his back, while a threateningly looking mace hung from his waist. A large lump of metal at the end - shaped into numerous steel fangs that gathered in a tight circle. Most likely – quite good for bashing skulls in.
Quickly enough – the man reached the altar and knelt, lowering his head soon after. Quite intriguing how he managed to kneel with visible grace, considering his clunky attire and stature. Must have taken quite a bit of practice.
Two steps above him - stood a person in bright yellow robes, the same emblem embroidered over his whole chest – as strands of gold reached out throughout the cloth. As the person of obvious authority – he stood above the kneeling man, his observing gaze filled with pride and love as it regarded the kneeling man.
“Today we gather to joy in the accomplishments of one of ours” - The golden figure spoke, his voice echoing though-out the hall clearly – “ex, capital ex, ex Archangel ex, capital ex, ex”- He started, taking his time in pronouncing the name of the kneeling individual - visibly making the fellow flinch with each syllable. It almost seemed as if the very air around him started to distort, yet strangely enough - none seemed to notice or care.
Paying no heed, robed individual continued – “Your achievements have not come unnoticed. Thus after all this time I, the Archbishop of the Church of Pedro, am proud to announce your accent to the rank of High Sweeper!”- He proclaimed, voice tempo rising – “Ex, capital ex, ex, Archangel ex, capital ex, ex! From now on you shall be known as High Sweeper, guardian of the holy way, protector of those faithful and hardworking, sweeper of the lord’s holy garden and executioner of heretics! Rise!” – The Archbishop waved his arms upwards in a motion that signaled the end of all the ceremony.
xXxArchangelxXx gladly accepted and rose up – his height reaching up to the one standing a few steps above.
“It is with great pleasure that I award you with a weapon befitting a man of your stature” – The preacher continued, as a small white hammer made out of unknown material reached his hands from a nearby colleague. He extended the weapon towards the standing champion with a bright fatherly smile.
Yet the mask xXxArchangelxXx maintained all this time seemed to be shattering – as he took in the gift with eyes wide open. His jaw visibly clenched. Seems like the man was not amused. Of course - quickly enough his humble expression returned, head slightly lowering as if to express gratitude.
After that everything passed quite quickly. Loud cheering and applause erupted - echoes of it escorting their new champion all the way outside. Only echoes though – as without waiting, the individual marched out with renewed vigor. With over-done force his feet slammed into the ground – until nothing but the clamor of steel on rock filled his surroundings. Bit by bit his act crumbled, as his head slowly rose up – revealing a fiery glare. Tense muscles visibly coursing through his cheeks as xXxArchangelxXx clenched his jaws in anger. His body almost rigid, moving as if by only sheer force of will – arms waving like a pair of planks - fists tightly clenched.
A horrid sight, to be sure. Yet once outside – he suddenly stopped. A minute of controlled, sparse breaths and his gaze locked on the received holy weapon – still held in the right hand. A small little thing – fit for hammering in nails. Maybe bashing up a peasant or two at best. Most probable epitome of its’ carrier in combat - a murdering tool for a homicidal maniac in an urban neighborhood.
xXxArchangelxXx suddenly took a very deep breath – as his chest swelled up from all the air. Breathe in and….breathe out. That seemed to help as his features slowly relaxed. He glanced around until a message popped up.
The holy faith of Pedro part 31 – Onnion East
Description: Signs of faltering faith and heretical activity have been detected within the East of Onnion Kingdom. Search and root out any weakness or signs of heresy. All in accordance with the codex of the Church of Pedro.
Reward: Increased reputation with The Church of Pedro. Fame and monetary gain.
Difficulty: B
Penalty for Failing: Reduced reputation with the Church of Pedro. Reevaluation of your position within the holy order.
Time limit: None.
This time – an extremely crooked smile covered his face, as he stared away into the horizon with a slightly coo-coo spark in the eye.
“In the name of his holy-grace”- xXxArchangelxXx whispered under his breath, while leaving the church behind. A small white hammer still gripped in his right hand.
Chapter 23
Character name: Wail
Level: 109
Class: Warlock
Reputation: -556
Title: Heretic
Souls: 232
Experience: 15.3%
Health: 4630
Mana: 5810
Stamina: 2260
Strength: 30
Intellect: 375
Agility: 20
Fortitude: 100
Wisdom: 300
Precision: 20
Attack: 37-58
Defense: 84
Charisma: 7
Leadership: 32
Luck: 11
Fame: 365
Health Regen: 8 Health/sec.
Mana Regen: 20 Mana/sec.
Stamina Regen: 1 Stamina/sec.
Magic Resistance
Fire: 25%
Water: 5%
Nature: 0%
Black: 20%
Light: -10%
Nether: 10%
*Unspent stat points: 3
*-1 Charisma due to appearance.
*-4 to Charisma due to below 0 Reputation.
*+7 Leadership due to Fame.
*+500 Health and + 20 Defense due to Fortitude.
*+2250 Mana due to Intellect.
*+6 Mana/sec due to Wisdom.
*+20% Fire, +10% Nether magic resistance due to Warlock.
*+20% Black and -10% Light magic resistance due to Warlock.
Title bonus
*Hated by all major religions.
*Accepted by all evil religions.
*Contact with a member of any major religion may cause them to drop into a religious fervor - pursuing you with psalms and religious signs.
*Double negative effect upon killing or dying by the hand of a member of any major religion. May force subjugation parties to be unleashed upon the player. Will hunt until success or destruction.
*Triple experience for killing a member of any major religion.
*+5 mana/sec.
*+10% mana.
*+10% spell damage.
Character name: Bob (NPC)
Level: 94
Class: Dark Minion
&nbs
p; Reputation: -306
Experience: 77.1%
Souls: 0
Health: 7560
Mana: 1470
Stamina: 3200
Strength: 310
Intellect: 20
Agility: 95
Fortitude: 271
Wisdom: 20
Precision: 20
Attack: 250 - 485 (+15)
Defense: 253
Charisma: 14
Leadership: 19
Luck: 10
Fame: 121
Health Regen: 17 Health/sec.
Mana Regen: 4 Mana/sec.
Stamina Regen: 7 Stamina/sec.
Magic Resistance
Fire: 10%
Water: 0%
Nature: -10%
Black: 20%
Light: -15%
Nether: 15%
*Unspent points: 0
*+10% Black, +10% Fire, +5% Nether magic resistance due to Wail.
*+10% Black, Nether magic resistances due to Dark minion.
*-15% Light, -10% Nature magic resistance due to Dark minion.
