by Reed James
She could have even used her new miracle, Castigation, which dealt a burst of divine damage to her enemies. She could have hit a large group of them.
But then horror of what her party had done settled on her. The enemy looked so pitiable now. She shook her head, clutching her bible to her breasts. She prayed to her Goddess, Ëshuxeri, to show mercy to those who had died and see their souls safely ushered to paradise.
“Tracks lead this way,” Kulrigiizhai said. She stood with her staff. Dëshoma was relieved to see her alive.
Marcus nodded. He led the way, his shield up, his armor rent in spots from the griffin, but his Hit Points were full. She marched behind him. The fog thinned more and more while the foul scent in the air grew worse and worse.
The ground grew black. Dëshoma and her companions reached the edges of fields blighted, the crops ravaged by sickness. Livestock lay dead and bloated. Some looked to have gone mad, battering down fences. Then houses appeared. They were simple huts, made of wood frames with sod walls and grassy roofs. They were clustered around a large clearing. Flies buzzed everywhere. The charnel reek choked her every breath.
Dead bodies abounded. Makeshift weapons lay scattered. War had come to the small village. Neighbor had attacked neighbor. They had hurt each other before they had surged out to attack her party. Dëshoma shook her head at the horror of it.
“A chest,” Twist said with some delight from inside a hut.
“Really?” Dëshoma asked. “You wouldst loot the dead?”
“That's what Shardhunters do,” she said.
“She's not wrong,” Marcus muttered as he led the way.
“Over here!” Maria called from the heart of the field. “There's a symbol here.”
Dëshoma and Marcus hurried over. Éjyona burst out of another hut while Kulrigiizhai stepped out from behind a barn, her face paler than usual. Maria stood in the open clearing in the heart of the village. On the ground, carved into the soil, was a pattern. It was three lines radiating out from a central point, one line longer than the other two, giving the suggestion of a cone or horn.
“That is the symbol of Thūgiz, God of Harm,” Dëshoma whispered. “The enemy of Ëshuxeri.”
“Look at the soil,” Kulrigiizhai said. “That doesn't look natural. It's so black and oily.”
Marcus dug his foot into the dirt nearby, exposing a dull brown soil. Dry and powdery. “I think we found the source of the blight.”
“Thūgiz's foul work,” muttered Dëshoma. “His cult must be here working their foul craft.”
Kulrigiizhai gripped her staff, her knuckles popping. She shook. “He forced them to harm each other.”
“Fucking cock-sucking bastard,” muttered Marcus. He glanced at Éjyona. “Think the Gods of Light and Order are this corrupt?”
She lifted her eyes. “Pushijer's agents are here. They've attacked us. They're connected to this somehow.”
“Not Pushijer himself,” whispered Dëshoma, her stomach feeling sick. She could not believe the benevolent Gods of Light and Order would perpetrate this. “His church has been corrupted. The Gods of Chaos and Dark have infiltrated that once august body and spread pernicious thoughts and deeds.”
Éjyona shrugged. “Does it really matter one way or the other?”
“Yes, it truly does,” Dëshoma said. “Do not pretend that thou doth not feel it, Éjyona. Thine cynicism is born out of thine desire for Pushijer to be true and worthy of the fidelity thou hast given Him.”
Éjyona rolled her shoulders and looked away. “I wonder what Twist found in the chest.”
“Thou canst not run from this forever,” Dëshoma said as the halfling scurried off. I shall pray for thee to find thy faith again.
* * / *
“Look at thesesssss,” hissed Twist. She held up a pair of leather panties studded with copper rivets. “I think I shall keep these.”
“Ooh, ooh!” Iris cooed. The pixie darted down and buzzed around them. “Give you some lightning damage, eh? Mix that with that unholy on your dagger. You're going to be zapping and cursing!”
“I am.”
“And! And!” Iris buzzed up in the air. “You can increase your attack speed for twenty seconds once a day. That is so fucking neat.”
“Fucking?” I asked. “Am I teaching you to swear?”
Iris buzzed to me. She planted her ass on the bridge of my nose, her thighs gripping the sides. She wiggled her hips, her wings right before my eyes. “Fucking hell you have, cock-sucker!”
I chuckled. “Glad to be a bad influence.”
“I found some metal that Okzira will love and this,” Twist said. The dragonborn flicked a shadowy object at me. I caught a small ring in my palm. It had a black diamond on it, the metal an umbral hue. It felt... wrong to me. Alien.
“That's for girls only,” giggled Iris as she leaned over. “Sorry, Marcus. You don't get to fucking wear it.”
“Is that your new favorite word?”
“Fucking yes it fucking is!” She buzzed her wings. “That's a Shadowed Nipple Ring.”
“Nipple ring,” Maria gasped, her hands covering the cups of her leather bra.
“Yep,” nodded Iris. She slipped off my nose, leaving a wet streak behind, and alighted on my hand by the ring. “It increases the wearer's dodge, and once a day, it can cut all damage the wearer takes in half for twenty seconds.”
“We just have to thread it through our nipple?” Kulri asked.
“Give it to her, Marcus,” Maria said.
“But I think you can use it,” I said, smiling at her. “Let's see a tit. Your choice.”
“It's designed to bond with the wearer,” added Iris. “I doubt it will hurt that much. Your cock ring didn't.”
“Just a brief flash of pain,” I said. “Over in a moment.”
“Fine, Marcus,” Maria said. She pulled up her bra cups. Her round tits popped out. Her pink nipples were surprisingly hard. “Left.”
I brought it to her left nipple. I pressed it against there and, as I hoped, it suddenly pierced her. She gave a gasp of pain and then shuddered. The black band of metal was threaded through her pink nub. She shuddered and then she frowned.
“It's a Level 15 item,” she gasped. “I can't use it yet!”
“Well, it does look cute on you,” I said, winking at her.
She blushed and shoved down her bra cups.
Dëshoma approached us, a look of concern on her face framed by her white wimple. I turned to her, furrowing my brow.
“What's wrong?”
“I greatly fear that the foul cultists of the God of Harm are lurking about. They are the source of this scourge. That is why we have been drawn here, Lord Marcus. We must root out the servants of depraved Thūgiz before their disease inflicts more harm. And we must find the means of cleansing these poor and troubled lands. I fear that these acts of corruption we have witnessed first in Shuwëmeri's temple and here may be connected.”
I nodded.
“Do you think we'll need the Tear of Ethileri?” Maria asked, a catch of hope in her eyes. “She is the Goddess who opposes Thūgiz.”
“Possibly, Lady Maria.”
“I hope we'll find it, too,” I told Maria. “We'll save your people.”
She gave me a big grin.
“Well, we're not going to find them sticking around here. Maria, see if you can find a trail leading from this village. If this is the cultists' work, they must have left some signs behind.”
Maria nodded and jogged off.
In a short time, a trail was found. We followed it through the plateau. The fog had all but melted off, giving us a view of the surrounding terrain. Judging by the distant walls of purple, we were nearing the center. I wanted to find the source of this disease and stamp it out.
The path led to another bridge. On this plateau, the signs of distant smoke could be seen. The rise of cook fires, perhaps. Another village. An itch appeared between my shoulders at the thought of another village cursed by this disease, the i
nhabitants driven mad to inflict pain and suffering upon each other.
We crossed the bridge without incident, taking care to make sure it hadn't been sabotaged ahead of time. A hill rose before us, the smoke coming up from behind it. Signs of the blight abounded. A weight grew in my heart. We would find more innocents sick. I wanted to avoid that if possible.
We climbed up the hill. A lone tree grew on the top, its leaves all missing. They lay in a rotting pile around the base. Sap oozed black out of cracks in the tree. The wind picked up and branches snapped off with ease, falling down to shatter on the soft ground.
I stepped up onto the hilltop and stared down at another village. The inhabitants had already gone through their orgy of slaughter. The survivors were shouting in the center, rubbing dirt on their wounds or spinning in mad circles. I muttered a prayer for them to these Gods of Light and Order.
“Let's skirt around,” I said, backing off the hilltop. “We go around the flank of this hill and go north of it. See if we can't pick up the cultist trail and see where they went next.”
A look of pitying sadness crossed Dëshoma's eyes. She gave a sad nod of her head. Even Twist looked somber.
We circled the side of the hill and made our way north of the village. We used the blighted fields to try and shield us from sight. We had gotten halfway across when a cry arose from the village, a great shout of alarm.
“CHILDREN OF THŪGIZ!” the voice boomed. “THE CLEAN SEEK TO CROSS UNSOILED!”
Standing in the heart of the sick villagers was a figure robed in red, a hood covering his face. A finger pointed right at us. The infected all surged in that direction, howling in maddened pain as they rushed for us.
“Beware his curses!” shouted Dëshoma.
“I'll take the fucker out,” Twist said, glancing at me and grinning. She faded from sight. I heard footsteps rushing away from us.
Éjyona Vanished too as the villagers surged around us. I rushed to meet them, Yelling. I threw a Zeal on myself, the buff surging over me. I become a beacon for the villagers. They hurtled at me with their makeshift weapons.
A thrown club struck my shield.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Three rapid shots from Éjyona's rifle erupted. The cultist staggered and then dropped to the ground, stunned by her attack. She whooped as she appeared out of her Vanish. She pivoted and fired her weapon at the lead cultist.
Then they were on me.
* * / *
Twist
The bullets hissed past Twist. They struck the chanting cultist. Three spurts of blood that blended in with the crimson of his robe. The cultist dropped to the ground. Twist hissed in her delight. She stood over him and plunged her sacrificial dagger down.
Unleashing Ambush, she buried her knife into the unconscious cultist's chest. Striking a vital, she dealt a devastating amount of damage. Her flesh faded into view as the cultist spasmed. Blood soaked his robes.
His eyes sprang open. He shook the stun off. He glared up at her, blood frothing his lips. “Thūgiz, awhīk deh phoungā ōphi!”
Something dark washed over Twist. She shuddered at the spell that hit her, but shrugged it off, resisting whatever it did to her. She slashed her dagger. It ripped across his throat. He collapsed in a gurgle and went still.
She spat on the corpse and looked up at the rushing villagers. Marcus lay in the middle of them, surrounded by the horde. Twenty of them. Flames erupted around him as he activated his boots. Fire burst from his attacks. He took damage.
The ground rumbled beneath her feet. Her scaled brow furrowed. The earth before her bowed upward and then burst into an eruption of spilling dirt. A hand shoved up through it. Blue and clawed and blighted.
Then a kobold burst out of the earth and hissed at her.
More disgorged out of the hole behind it.
“Rūzem's greasy touch!” she spat.
* * / *
Maria du Marne
Maria's rapier smoothly slid into the chest of the man swinging his hoe at her. She raised her parrying dagger to block it, but not fast enough. It slammed into her shoulder even as he gurgled and died. Pain burst across her skin. A flurry of Hit Points melted from her.
“Allow the positive energy...” chanted Dëshoma in the rear. “...to suffuse mine ally with healthy endurance!”
A warmth engulfed Maria as she dodged past another sickle. The throbbing ache in her shoulder mended slowly as a trickling amount of healing energy surged through her. The man with the sickle snarled as he slashed in at her again, the rusting blade sweeping for her face.
She unleashed Fleet Foot, burning through more of her TP. She stabbed him in the chest as she retreated back, dodging the attack. Then she swept in and then lunged in for a normal attack. The shadowy rapier took him in the neck.
Arcane brilliance burst to her right, engulfing a half-dozen of the disease-maddened villagers surging around Marcus. He lay in the middle of the battle. Weapons struck his armor from every direction, clanging off of his breastplate.
A swath of bullets burst from Éjyona's rifle, striking the enemies around Marcus. Two dropped, but more were rushing into the battle. He swung his flaming ax, cleaving into the enemies. Hacking limbs. Caving in chests.
Blows struck him hard. Wounds appeared on his arms and face. Weapons cleaved through his iron armor to hurt his chest or back. But they slowly healed. The same energy that wreathed around Maria engulfed her party leader.
“Allow the positive energy to suffuse mine ally with healthy endurance!” Dëshoma chanted.
“Let the mystical energies gather in me and explode in a burst of deadly power!” Kulri intoned.
Purple burst. More healing energy dumped on Marcus. Éjyona's gun boomed, picking off enemies while she attacked the stragglers, relieving the pressure on Marcus. Maria parried with her dagger and dodged the attacks thrown her way. The villagers dwindled in numbers.
“We have a problem!” Twist hissed, rushing back from the heart of the village.
A horde of the blue-skinned kobolds rushed after her. They burst out of holes dug through the dirt like termites erupting from the mound. Marcus cursed as Twist slashed her dagger into a villager as she ran past.
Healing energy engulfed her. Then the kobolds, howling and gibbering, slammed into the melee. They clattered off Marcus's kite shield and spilled around him. Maria panted, running low on her TP. She had two good attacks left in her.
“Maria!” Dëshoma gasped. “Behind you!”
She spun around to see a griffin streaking across the ground at her. Dëshoma picked herself up, apparently having dodged the griffin's claws. It rushed at her. Maria faced it and activated her rapier's power. It went shadowy. Her next attacked would deal double damage.
Or her two attacks. Double Stab.
It cawed. Beak scythed down at her.
She attacked, thrusting twice with her rapier, blazing through her TP. The ghostly blade slipped through the griffin's tough hide lurking beneath its layers of feathers. Ribs were no obstacle to it striking vitals deep inside the diseased beast.
She twisted to the side after inflicting her blurring attack. It screeched in pain. Claws lashed out. ne caught her arm, ripping through her flesh. Blood spurted just in time for the miracle from Dëshoma to run out.
The griffin landed and whirled at her. Blood matted its chest feathers. Fury filled its golden eyes. It rushed at her.
* * / *
Kulrigiizhai
Marcus Aurelius battled against the kobolds. The griffin rushed at Maria, driving her back. Twist hacked at a horde of the twisted humanoids rushing at her. Blood spurted from wounds that ripped across her scales.
Kulrigiizhai, running low on MP, needed to make her next Arcane Blast count. She activated her Swiftsong Yew Staff's once per day ability. Her next spell would deal double damage. She focused on Marcus and the kobolds around him.
“Maria, lure the griffin closer to Marcus!” the elf said coolly and drew out a piece of elven bread She
lly had cooked.
Divine energy engulfed Maria, Theological Litany suffusing the human Duelist with life-sustaining energy. She nodded and dashed towards Marcus, the griffin cawing and giving chase. Lion paws tore at the ground.
With three quick bites, Kulrigiizhai downed the purple bread. She felt it sharpen her mind and tongue. She could cast her spells with greater speed for now.
“Let the mystical energies gather in me...” the elf intoned, gripping her staff in both hands. The songbird trilled louder than ever. “...and explode in a burst of deadly power!”
Purple energy detonated around Marcus. Kobolds, human villagers, and the griffin vanished, consumed by arcane conflagration. When it cleared, kobolds and humans fell dead, bodies sizzling from the power she'd unleashed. The griffin smoked. It whirled around, abandoning Maria to focus baleful eyes on the elf.
It charged her.
Kulrigiizhai planted her staff and began casting, “Let the geometries of space entwine around me and shield—”
She almost finished casting her defensive spell. The griffin pounced on her. The blow threw her back. She hit the ground hard. The beast's claws savaged through her robes, tearing at her flesh. Blood bubbled around the talons buried in her flesh.
The beak snapped down, ripping at her throat.
Pain flashed through her as her Hit Points plummeted.
* * / *
Dëshoma
The Cleric felt Kulrigiizhai's hit points drop precipitously.
She gasped and whirled her gaze around to spot the elf pinned on the ground by the griffin. Beak bloody, the winged beast lunged its head down for another flesh-tearing wound that would finish off the elf. Fear lanced through Dëshoma.
She activated her Fluttering Purple Silk Skirt.
She delivered Healing Touch at range, her bible bursting with radiance. The healing energy engulfed Kulrigiizhai moments before the griffin tore out her throat. The elf's HP fluctuated wildly, shooting up to half full only to be torn back down into the critical again when the attack hit.
“Kulri!” Marcus roared, buried in the mix of his own raging body of attackers. He charged toward the elf, taking a hard blow to his side that gouged his own Hit Points.
