by Wolfe Locke
“He’s doing a little better than your father is. He was lucky Sadie was able to carry him up here in the state she was in. If you see her, you should thank her for that. Not many would be willing to help out someone else when they’re like that. As for Jack, he recovered consciousness a few times, but Ghost Touch permanently damages stamina. If not for his connection to that masked abomination that’s been masquerading as his shadow, your friend Jack would be dead.”
Seraph looked at Sadie, wondering if the physician didn’t recognize her with her new racial change, or if he was just refusing to acknowledge her. The glare she gave him sent the clear message that whatever the answer, now was not the time she wanted to explore it.
“Will you take me to them?” asked Seraph with a touch of deference towards the man who was tending to his father and his comrade.
The physician turned away from Seraph and looked at Sadie. “After everything this demon has taken from you, and done to you, can you vouch that no harm will come to my wards and those under my protection within these walls? Can you keep this demon on a leash?”
Sadie nodded her head, tears barely held back as she nodded in affirmation. “I can restrain him if he gets out of control.”
“See that you do,” the physician answered as he turned to walk away, motioning for the two of them to follow.
Chapter 27: Ghost Touch
* * *
It had been a disappointment when Seraph learned firsthand that the physician had been right about the two men he had come to collect. They were both in poor shape, and as they were, Seraph could do nothing with them. Even Rosebud was occupied as it had spread itself all over Jack, wrapping the man up in a persistent enhancement that boosted his stamina. The ability was likely the reason the man was still alive.
“What can be done for him?” Seraph asked the physician.
The physician shuffled some papers around that he had on his clipboard before responding, “Not much unfortunately. Our constitution, what you know as stamina, doesn’t recover so easily from Ghost Touch. I’ve no idea how long this man was engaged with one of those night terrors, but it’s evident to me that he’s lucky to even be alive. His stamina keeps flickering right above zero.”
“So then, he needs a racial change. I can handle that,” Seraph responded matter-of-factly.
The physician grabbed his hand and glared. “If you mean to turn him into a demon like you’ve done with yourself and that poor woman you’re traveling with, then no, it won’t work.”
“Well, why not?” Sadie chimed in. “He has an elite racial cosmetic that he’s slotted to recover from the market shop whenever. We can use one of those.”
The physician responded as if talking to a child. “It's not that simple. The only way for him to survive the effects of Ghost Touch, after having had his stamina reduced to zero, is immune to that, and for that to happen—”
Seraph interrupted, “He would need to be a ghost, or something close to it. Something undead, right?”
The physician nodded. “Correct. At least in theory. But the item shop wouldn’t have anything like that stocked—unless you opted to collect the material yourself and forfeit collecting the epic cosmetic.”
“If that’s what we have to do, then that's what we have to do,” promised Seraph as he turned away from Jack and pulled on the privacy curtain to focus his attention on his father.
Notification – Quest Unlocked - To Save a Life
Information: The man known as Jack needs immunity from the status condition Ghost Touch or he will die when his pet is no longer able to maintain the boost stamina enchantment.
Conditions: Acquire an item that can be used as a cosmetic to grant Jack undead racial attributes.
Paul didn't notice that the curtain had been pulled away—or that Seraph, Sadie, and the physician were now standing right in front of him. He sat on his bed in a catatonic, near-comatose state, his legs pulled into his body as he gazed off into the distance at something only he could see as he occasionally rubbed the recently scarred flesh that marked where he had lost his hand.
The look was a look Seraph recognized but had never expected to see on his father’s face. Shell shock. It was the look of a man that had been pushed too far and been broken by the experience. Paul had taken losing his hand well during the fight, which meant another factor had pushed him over the edge.
Seraph gave Paul a second look as he realized what it was. The man had been broken by thinking he had been saved instead of his son. This man thought he had lost his son, and that had been the thing to push him over. Seraph was touched—even if he wasn’t the recipient of those feelings of loss. It was unfortunate, though. He needed help now, and it was unlikely the man would recover on his own anytime soon.
I don’t have time to see if this is going to resolve itself, thought Seraph as he considered his options. With the timeline he had to work with, only one option seemed the obvious choice. As he approached Paul, the man finally acknowledged his presence, recoiling in horror, screaming as he waved his hands back and forth as he sobbed and begged for Seraph not to come any closer.
Paul recoiled in horror, screaming and waving his hands back-and-forth, saying, “No, no, no! Don't come any closer.” The fear Seraph saw in his father’s eyes stopped him in his tracks. It was not a reaction he had prepared himself for. Filled with regret that this was the option he needed to take, Seraph hesitated, full of shame that his father feared him. Seraph had never wanted to hurt the man.
Uncertainty gripped him. What he was about to do he had done remorsefully to Sadie, and he would likely do to many more in the future, but to his father, a line was being crossed that he didn’t know existed until this moment, and he crossed it anyway. He had to. The future demanded it.
Global Announcement – Notification – Guild Formation
A new guild has been formed. “The Inquisition of the Blind Eye.” They have conquered the Halls of Justice for themselves and claimed the guild power of “Judgment.”
Groaning, Seraph dismissed the unwanted notification. He had other things to worry about in the present, and stressing about another guild forming first wouldn’t help him in the meantime. However, if experience had taught him anything, it was that people tried to strictly mimic the guilds they fell into. This would be a problem for him, he was absolutely certain of that.
Enough of that, he thought as he focused on his father and what he needed to do. Putting both of his hands onto his father’s chest, Seraph pressed down, activating his “Demonize” ability as his father subconsciously struggled and tried to push him off. But Seraph’s strength was stronger, and, missing a hand, the man just wasn’t able to put out enough force to dislodge him.
His father’s hands went limp as he passed out as the Seraph’s new demonic aspect worked to heal the wounds in his father’s mind, making him resilient to nightmarish exposures.
With no reason left to stay, Seraph gave his begrudging thanks to the physician and promised to be back as he and Sadie left to go collect the cosmetic that would give Jack the immunity to Ghost Touch and save his life.
They needed to find Bone Dust or Wraiths Ashes, and Seraph knew where to find them—or he had known and hoped it was still the location.
The Halls of Rot.
It was time they seized a guild hall too.
Chapter 28: The Halls of Rot
* * *
The two of them quickly exited the Inn of the Withered Fig and headed out toward the downtown plaza of Hometown. Overhead, the sun was blazing—at least what the World Dungeon passed off as a sun. A sort of artificial light also used to regulate the day and night cycles.
Seraph thought the Guild Hall they needed to be clear would be close, and as they bounded down the stairs and saw their destination on the other side of the Plaza, the amount of relief that Seraph felt throughout his body realized the extra stress he hadn’t known he was carrying.
The five Prime Guild Halls remained as they had in the past�
�one of the few things that appeared to have remained unchanged. The five Prime Guild Halls were all found in the downtown plaza, each evenly spaced apart from each other. If one were to form a line connecting the Prime Guild Halls, it would form a pentagram that covered the entirety of downtown, in much the same way that the dungeon gates in the innermost parts of the plaza formed an octagon.
Though he had managed to secure for himself many advantages in his past life, control of a Prime Guild Hall had not been one of them. His guild, Carrion Crow, had been unsuccessful in their attempts at claiming any of the Halls, opting instead to establish the guild in an affiliated location on the outskirts of the city. Only a Prime Guild Hall offered unique advantages, and those advantages only extended to the first guild to seize it.
Hometown had five Prime Guild Halls. The Hall of Justice had already been seized by the new guild “Inquisition of the Blind Eye.” With a name like that, Seraph knew they would be a problem and that he would likely be a target of their “Inquisition”—if their leader was the petty elf, George, as he suspected.
With one already claimed, that left the other four: The Halls of the Deep, which granted the guild that claimed it access to an ability to manipulate water; the Halls of Rot, which allowed the guild that claimed it access to passive abilities applied on-hit during combat; the Halls of Clay, which allowed the guild that claimed it access to the creation of personal golems; and lastly, the Halls of the Tempest, which granted the guild that claimed it access to an ability that granted limited flight.
“Seraph,” said Sadie as they walked, “are you sure about this? You know you can only claim one of the Guild Halls. Whatever ability you may gain forfeits the others. Are you absolutely sure of your decision?”
In truth, he wasn’t sure of his decision, but he had committed to it, and though he could argue the merits of each back and forth, only one of the Halls would lead him to the item which would save Jack’s life, and through Jack, Rosebud the Nether Demon that had somehow been trapped in Alexander's body during the reanimation spell. The Demon was the true gem of their partnership.
For Seraph, the prize was the Hall of Rot. Of the Guild Halls he could take, the Hall of Rot would protect his people the most in combat against others. People were less likely to start a fight—even a fight they knew they can win—if they couldn’t walk away unharmed. Guild Hall advantages stayed with the guild, until the guild was destroyed or disbanded. That special ability disappeared with it. It was in this way that the dungeon had tried to prevent active warfare between the guilds—not that it worked.
Finally, he answered her question. “I want to have a deterrent to keep our people from being attacked, Sadie. The Hall of Rot can be that deterrent—very few monsters are going to care about boils and septic flesh, but people do.”
“That makes sense,” she said, looking around as they reached the hallway section of the plaza. The elves that were moving about as they went about their business largely avoided them, and the few that didn’t, stared at both Seraph and Sadie with bitter hatred before going back to tending their tastes.
“They don’t recognize me anymore do they? They think I’m with you,” said Sadie with a touch of sadness in her voice.
Seraph tried to comfort. “No, they don’t. They probably think you’re just another human. Just another pawn of the great murderer. Be thankful they don’t recognize you. In this way you can better help your people by seeing from another perspective how much of humanity’s anger they brought on themselves. You can help them in ways you never could before, even if they hate you. What you do will help keep them alive.”
Sadie said nothing, but Seraph could tell by how her body bristled that his words were not appreciated.
As they approached the shadow of the Halls of Rot, the air began to chill. The closer they got to the building, the more aged it appeared—a glamour or curse that showed a great ruined church, the grass around it greyed and brown, the bushes bare and full of dried twigs. A feeling of being watched descended upon them. Once inside, they would have to clear the whole building of the monsters that haunted it.
Seraph took the first step up the stone stairs leading to the large wooden doors that closed up the church, and then the second and third before reaching out to grab the large iron knocker to pull open the door.
Sadie grabbed his hand to stop him, a question on her mind that she needed answered. “Seraph, you have a chance to do something that will save countless lives, and if your power base is going to be in the middle of the city, you can make a difference, you can shape the city in a way you never could before. You’ll have other options besides destruction. So tell me, what are you going to do?”
Seraph dropped his hand and moved it away from the knocker. It was not the time or the place, but in his experience, there never was a good time or place. “I’m good at killing people, Sadie. I haven’t stopped being good at that. I can handle the hate that comes with getting my hands dirty. But this time, it can’t just be me. I can be a stick, but I need somebody else to be the carrot. I need advisors, not just vassals. I need people willing to challenge my impulses. I need people to be my conscience for me. I want our guild to be Peacekeepers and Peacemakers.”
Sadie looked at him curiously as if she didn’t understand the implications of what he had said. “You, a Peacemaker? That seems to be against your nature.”
Laughing, Seraph responded as he started to push the door open. “You can only keep the peace when you can do violence. Otherwise you’re just harmless, and Peacemaker has never truly implied weakness or passivity. If I were to level a city that makes war, is that not making peace? It is not a gentle role I see for myself.”
“I see,” said Sadie as she turned from him and looked ahead. “Let’s go.”
Notice - Now Entering "The Forgotten Church - Halls of Rot"
Notice: Quest Discovered - To Clear a House
Conditions: Clear the Halls of Rot of all enemies.
Reward: Gain Control of the Halls of Rot
Permanent Effect Granted - On-Hit Necrotic Damage
Chapter 29 - Three Kings
* * *
After they walked past the heavy wooden door, it slammed shut behind them, their presence triggering a trap as a wooden beam fell across the doorway, sealing their way out. Seraph didn’t even attempt to dislodge or move it. He knew they were locked in. There would be no escaping, no retreat if they weren’t strong enough to complete the task at hand. They would either finish what they started or die trying.
The pair looked at each other, nodding in affirmation that they were committed—if they weren’t before. Seraph and Sadie would be depending on each other to stay alive. Former enemies working together in the common goal of saving their respective people.
Seraph released his Cat’s Claw from its wrist sheath and gripped the handle of the claw blade tightly. Sadie unsheathed her sword, a familiar blue glow emanating and lighting up the room. The gleaming of the sword was a reminder of the ability she possessed to turn the undead, but it was also a reminder of the strain it had put on her. Seraph did not want them to be in a situation where they used the turn undead ability recklessly. It needed to be saved for when it was absolutely necessary.
They found themselves in the church nave, a room filled with rows of splintered and cracked wooden pews, the gloss sealant corroded with age and the hassocks from where people had once prayed torn and shredded, the red cloth faded to a dull pink.
The air was stale and musty, the stench of decay noticeable but faded from time. Seraph pointed out to Sadie the handful of corpses littered throughout the room in the pews, each of the bodies in various states of decomposition. Some were in suits, others in dresses—all formal wear. Judging by the position of the bodies, they appeared to have died abruptly. All of the corpses looked towards the pulpit on the stage in front of them. They had not died running in terror.
“Sadie,” cautioned Seraph. “Whatever killed those people, did so instantly. Be
wary of enchantments and other traps.”
Whispering back at him as they walked down the rows, talking small careful and measured steps Sadie responded, “It might be the pulpit itself is warded somehow, like a charm. These people could have just starved to death or succumbed to some other natural cause.”
“Alright, that’s good thinking. If that’s the case though, I think we’re safe for now. I’ve already looked at it a few times to no effect. It probably needs a trigger of some sort, like somebody at the pulpit to start the enchantment,” Seraph reasoned as Sadie looked about for any sign of enemies.
Both of them kept a wary eye on the bodies, fully expecting them to reanimate at any moment.
Hesitantly, they looked around the stage but found no clues to what had happened here. They had no idea of how to continue their quest to clear the Halls of Rot.
“Seraph, look,” said Sadie, pointing to the podium.
Seraph looked and saw three round grooves dug into the wood and a handwritten note on the middle of the pedestal.
Behind him, Sadie started reading.
From the dust of fallen stars, a light rises in the dark as the three wise kings guide the way. Forgotten are the dreams of older days, something waits, something has awoken. The burden of the ancient pact must be paid.
“Those are clues to some kind of riddle we need to solve to advance I’m guessing,” said Seraph as he contemplated the words.
Sadie grabbed the podium and checked for anything else—be it grooves, hidden messages, or secret compartments. “It’s a riddle. The three wise kings are easy enough to figure out,” she reasoned as she pointed to the three round grooves dug into the wood.
