Omnibus Volume 1

by C. M. Carney

  And surprise of surprises, Chthonic Magic and spells from Xeg. The mischievous imp hadn’t asked Gryph’s permission. He’d just jumped onto Gryph’s head and forced the knowledge into his mind.

  You have learned the spell Demon Scales

  Sphere: Chthonic Magic - Tier: Base.

  A tough and scaly demonic hide will form over the caster (or target’s) skin, providing a +10 bonus to AC +1 per every 3 levels of Chthonic Magic mastery.

  Mana Cost: 50 - Casting Time: I minute - Duration: 10 minutes +1 per level of Chthonic Magic mastery.

  Cooldown: 2 minutes.

  You have learned the skill CHTHONIC MAGIC - Level: - Tier: Base - Skill Type: Active

  You are now able to wield the power of Chthonic Magic. Chthonic Magic allows the user to tap into the energies of the Chthonic Realm. Chthonic Magic primarily makes use of offensive and summoning spells but does have some potent defensive capabilities as well. Note: the use of Chthonic Magic is considered evil by most cultures and those who wield it are often shunned.

  Gryph’s mind expanded with all the new knowledge and his training already parsed the new skills and abilities into tactics. He had just scratched the surface of what he could do in the Realms. What will I be capable of when I master the Godhead?

  Gryph closed out all of his interfaces and returned his attention to the real world. In his absence Xeg had been busy. A large pile of loot lay at Gryph’s feet. Ovyrm was already searching through it.

  Most of it was junk. Ancient rusted weapons and armor from by the dread knights. Ovrym handed Gryph a few potions to restock his inventory. “Is this it?” Gryph asked the imp.

  “Yes, nothing else. Xeg no find better shiny things.”

  “Xeg,” Gryph said. “What did you find?”

  Xeg scowled and looked away, avoiding the question.

  “Xeg, my brave friend, we need your help,” Tifala said in a soothing voice. “Did you find something?”

  Xeg huffed and puffed and finally sighed. “Xeg find box with shiny pretty.”

  “Where?” Gryph asked.

  A moment later, they were in a small hidden room behind the Barrow King’s throne. It had all the bearings of a royal treasury and if the contents told the tale, they belonged to a king.

  “Whoa,” Gryph said.

  “Um, yeah,” Ovyrm agreed.

  You have found War Stave of the Elven King

  (El’Edryn War Stave)

  Item Class: Artifact - Item Category: Passive/Active.

  Base Dmg: 18 (+8 Artifact Bonus; +12 Adamant Tip).

  Passive Powers.

  Power (1): +20% Total Mana.

  Power (2): Store 200 pts of Mana.

  Power (3): +3 to all Attributes.

  Power (4): +20% immunity to all Spheres of Magic.

  Active Powers.

  Power (1): Penetrating Strike (Damage added to strike).

  Mana Limit: 20% (+Option for Stored Mana) - Cool Down: 10 min.

  Icons Slotted: 0 of 6.

  This magnificent weapon was constructed by three grandmasters; an El’Edryn Smith, a Nimmerian Imbue Master and a Thalmiir Artificer with a gift of ultra-rare Prismatic Elementum from the Raal Zanaag (Orcs), to commemorate the Alliance Against the Dark Ascendency. To create the "War Stave of the Elven King, four ingots of White Mithril to construct the stave itself, one ingot of Prismatic Elementum (a mix of Black, Blue and White Elementum) entwined throughout, 6 draughts of Aether Worm Blood (to etch/burn the slots for 6 Icons), an ingot of Adamant to make the adamantine spear tip, and four Blood Diamonds (diamonds infused with the blood of powerful beings; in this case a willing offering from the four racial leaders of the Alliance)

  “Well, this will come in handy,” Gryph said as he hoisted the War Stave of the Elven King. He felt a powerful surge explode into him as he held the perfectly balanced staff. He took a few moments to familiarize himself with the weapon. The Mana Store ability was incredible, and Gryph filled the reservoir. If he planned well, just carrying this spear upped his mana limit by 200.

  Below the spear was an intricately carved metallic disk. It was six inches across and bore the visage of a powerful and wise dwarf. Gryph picked it up, and his mind filled with a new prompt.

  You have found Seal of the Dwarven King

  Weight 2.5 lbs.

  Item Class: Artifact - Item Category: Passive/Active.

  Passive Powers.

  Power (1): This seal enables the bearer to take ownership of the ancient Thalmiir city of Dar Thoriim.

  Active Powers.

  Unknown.

  You have been offered the Quest Reclaim the Dwarven City

  The ancient Thalmiir city of Dar Thoriim was long ago sealed to prevent a powerful evil from infesting the world. Rid the city of the infestation and claim the city as your own.

  Difficulty: Epic - Reward: Control of Dar Thoriim - XP: 1,000,000.

  “Holy shit,” Gryph muttered. The XP award for the quest was insane. Ovyrm eyed Gryph oddly, so Gryph passed the seal to him. His eyes also went wide before he passed the artifact back to Gryph.

  “Looks like we’ll be busy, if we ever get out of here.”

  Gryph nodded and tucked the seal into his inventory. There were more pressing concerns. Gryph gripped his new spear again. Hopefully he could take everything with him into the Barrow King’s mind verse. If not what he had planned would be near impossible. They returned to the throne room.

  Tifala had made a makeshift bed out of discarded cloaks and old bits of cloth and laid Wick’s empty body on top of it. She was gently washing the dirt and grime from his face and eased his Maker Goggles from his head.

  She walked up to Gryph and handed the goggles to him.

  “Perhaps this will aid you in your quest.”

  Gryph shook his head. “They belong to your husband.”

  “And they will help you find him. Give them back when you both return.”

  Gryph nodded his thanks and placed the goggles over his head, leaving them to dangle at his neck. Ovyrm shook his hand and wished him luck. Even Xeg seemed genuine when he told Gryph he “no want you go dead.”

  Ready as he would ever be, Gryph picked up the skull, and a prompt popped into his mind.

  Do you wish to change your respawn location to this Respawn Point?

  Gryph tapped the YES icon.

  Congratulations. You have changed your Respawn Point.

  “I’m ready,” Gryph said and pulled down his cowl, exposing the back of his neck.

  Ovyrm drew his saber and walked up behind Gryph, the point settled at the base on his skull. “See you soon, my friend.”

  Tifala stood in front of him, her smile trying to hide the worry in his eyes. Behind her Xeg sat on the throne, chewing on something that may have been a foot.

  “Do it.”

  With a smooth, quick motion, Ovyrm pushed the tip of his saber into Gryph’s spine. Death was instantaneous.

  48

  Gryph only felt the pain for a second before he his soul left his body. Once again, he stretched thin and was pulled through a singularity. He was energy, and he was descending fast. As he approached the pinprick of light, he knew to be his Respawn Point he brought all of his focus to bear. If he was right, this was the critical part of his plan.

  The point of light expanded from a single star into a swirling cloud of interstellar gas. Within the endless nebula were two single points of light. Gryph focused on them. There had to be a way to tell which one was which?

  The first orbited near the edge of the nebula and shone an intense white. Looking upon it, Gryph felt longing and comfort. This was where his soul wanted to be. A realm of life and wonder.

  The other point was a dark mass of seething blue and black. It stood out not due to its brightness, but due to the hole it produced in the light of the nebula. It was a place of rage and anger and every photon of Gryph’s being spasmed away from it.

  This is where he would find Wick. He turned himself towards the darkness and zippe
d faster and faster towards it. His soul screamed at him to turn away, but his mind was the master here.

  The blue-black sphere was all of reality now, larger than the largest star in his own universe. It now was the universe. A universe of anger, hate, fear and pain. Gryph doubled down and surged forward.

  As he got close, he eased back. This time, when he landed he would land softly. He could not risk the painful entries he’d experienced the last two times.

  He hit the surface of the seething black star and passed through with a snap. His mind receded from the universal to the local and, once again, he was in his own body. His landing wasn't pretty, but he stayed on his feet. The surrounding energies dissipated, and he looked about.

  What he saw stunned him. His expectations had been that the mind verse would be some kind of hell realm, like the one through the portal Avernerius came from. But this place was not. This place was a wonder.

  He was in a grassy clearing in an ancient forest that reminded him of the old woods of Europe. In the distance, snowcapped peaks kissed the sky and mountain streams fed down into a thin alpine lake. A tower shot upwards from the far shore of the lake, piercing the morning like a beacon.

  He got to his feet and pulled his new spear from his inventory. This place was just too normal, too nice. Why would the Barrow King’s mind create such a place?

  Gryph did a slow circle, keeping his weapon ready. Everywhere he looked he saw more wondrous nature. Woodland animals hopped and grazed, birds chirped and brooks babbled.

  He walked towards the tower in the distance. He wondered if this was what the Barrow had looked like all those millennia ago when it had existed on the surface, but doubts crept into his mind. This spire was tall and elegant, a natural extension of the surroundings, as if it had grown directly from the land. It sure did not feel like the hellhole he’d spent the last several days in.

  He ran and sent mana into his boots, doubling his speed. Normally, he’d opt for Stealth, but he had no idea how much time Wick had left. He didn’t plan to waste any more time.

  The world zipped by and he refilled the power of his boots twice. After a time, he came to the edge of the forest and the edge of the clearing that sprouted the tower. It was hundreds of feet tall and made of shining white stone. A circular wall surrounded it, creating a massive green courtyard. An open set of gates led into the courtyard.

  Gryph dipped down into Stealth and made his way through the gates. He saw nothing and no one. Was this the right place? Had he chosen wrong when he was floating through the nebula? Had he sentenced Wick’s soul to permanent death with his error?

  He refused to let himself wallow down that path. If he had chosen wrong, there was nothing to be done now. He had to move ahead with faith. Wick was here. He had to be.

  Gryph ducked low and sprinted across the sward of green between the gate and the tower itself. If hidden snipers lurked, this would be their chance to strike. Gryph forced himself to focus and soon his breathing relaxed.

  He came to the base of the tower and crouched at the left side of the heavy wooden doorway. A glance back and forth told Gryph he was still alone. Was it going to be this easy? Was the Barrow King so sure that this private realm, this pocket universe, was secure that he had no guards, no security?

  Still in Stealth, Gryph reached his hand towards the large handle on the door. A moment before his fingers touched the metal ring, the door eased open on well-oiled hinges. Gryph jumped back startled and held his spear in a fighting stance. Almost more unnerving than the door’s movement, was the complete lack of noise. How could such a massive door be so silent?

  The door opened, and Gryph saw a humanoid figure back lit by many torch-bearing wall sconces. His hands gripped the shaft tighter, and he sent mana into the tip.

  “Oh, you’re here,” said a high-pitched voice that cracked as if its owner were on the cusp of puberty. “I’ve been waiting so long.”

  Of all the things Gryph had expected to emerge from the tower, a fourteen-year-old boy had not made the list. But as the figure emerged into the light, that is exactly who greeted Gryph.

  “My name is Simon,” said a sandy-haired boy with the thin, gangly limbs that made the early teens a time of clumsy nervousness. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Um?” Gryph said, standing at his full height and clutching the spear tighter.

  For the next several moments, man and boy just stared at each other.

  “Are you slow or something,” Simon said in the typical tone of the irritated adolescent. “Great, alone all these years and I get an idiot as my first friend.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Oh good, you do talk. I’m Simon, but we already covered that, didn’t we?”

  In an almost comical way, Gryph backed up, looked up and down the tower, and turned around in a 360-degree circle. Something just wasn’t right. Simon stared at him in a way that was both curious and condescending. Finally, the kid snapped, bringing Gryph’s attentions, and annoyance, back to him.

  “Hello, sir knight, would you like to come in?”

  Gryph gave the kid a look that suggested he shut up, and Simon pouted. “You’re here to see him.”

  “Him?”

  “His majesty, the great and powerful Ouzerio.”

  “I don’t know who that is. I’m here to find a friend. He was taken here against his will by an entity known as the Barrow King.”

  “Yup, that’s him, but I always thought that name sounded stupid. I mean of all the names you could choose you go with you choose the Barrow King. Seriously?”

  “Kid,” Gryph said, moving to grab the annoying adolescent by the arm, “time to focus.”

  Simon lurched away from Gryph’s grasp. It reminded Gryph of a childhood friend who never liked being touched. Years later, Gryph had learned that his friend had suffered abuse.

  “Sorry, I won’t touch you. I don't have a lot of time. Is he here?”

  Simon harrumphed with such drama that Gryph was surprised the kid didn’t pull something but, eventually, he tossed his head back in a ‘follow me’ gesture and walked into the tower.

  “Okay,” Gryph muttered to himself and looked around one last time. He was almost certain he was being punked, but further surveillance proved fruitless.

  Knowing that he would regret it, Gryph stepped over the threshold and into the tower. The inside looked exactly as one would expect. A large circular room with a ceiling that reached a hundred feet or more dominated the ground floor. A few doors led off the main chamber and two large staircases circled upwards.

  Gryph felt as if he were in some ultra-modern skyscraper. Something you’d see in Dubai or Singapore. Instead of technology, archaic magics adorned the place.

  “So, he is here, your master?”

  “He’s not my master,” Simon spat. “But yeah, his majesty is here. Just got back, too, so your timing is impeccable. He has a guest and told me not to disturb him except to bring dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Yeah, yah know the meal, lamb, potatoes, turnips, and jellies.” Once again, Simon eyeballed Gryph as if he were talking to a moron.

  “Have you brought it yet?”

  “What?”

  “Dinner?” Gryph said, his voice rose in ire.

  “No, I was just about to. Why, you wanna help?”

  “Yes. Yes, I very much do,” Gryph said.

  “Okay.” Simon shrugged in a way that said he didn’t care either way. “Follow me.”

  Simon led him into one of the side doors to a small room that was unadorned save for a circle of engraved metal in the floor. Simon stepped into the circle and waited for Gryph to do the same. With some apprehension Gryph put one foot then another over the circle. He could sense the power that lay in the ring.

  “I’d stand still if I were you,” Simon said. Gryph became rigid, like a statue, but gripped his spear. A moment later, the world folded and popped. His guts shuddered and nausea poured over him and then the world folded
again and they were in a nearly identical room. Gryph’s ears popped, and he nearly toppled.

  “What the?”

  “Portal circle,” Simon said with a grin. “Guess I could have warned you.”

  Simon didn't wait for Gryph to respond and exited the room. Gryph forced himself to recover. As annoying as this kid was, he couldn't risk losing him. The kid was just entering another door when Gryph exited the portal circle chamber. He clutched his spear as he lost sight of the kid and stumbled down the hall.

  The door led to a large kitchen. Inside was a wonderland of automation unmatched even on Earth. Food items prepared themselves. Moving about, in and out of ovens and pots, as if unseen hands were carrying them. The smell was fantastic, and Gryph’s stomach grumbled. It was then that he realized that the last real meal he had eaten had been the food Doc had brought him the day before this entire nightmare had started.

  Gryph resisted the urge to scarf some food. For all he knew this Simon was the Barrow King, and the food was poisoned. That would be an ignominious way to die and lose his Godhead, poisoned by a bratty teenager because he was hungry.

  Simon snapped, and the food all drifted over to a silver serving cart. A cover slipped over the food to keep it warm and a jug of wine slid over and landed next to the food.

  “Ready?” Simon asked.

  “Hold on just a second. You need to answer some questions.”

  Simon crossed his arms in the condescending way that all teens had of showing displeasure. Some things did not change no matter what universe you were in. Simon stared at Gryph and the stare said ‘fine, let’s get this over with.’

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Si…”

  Gryph cut him off with raised palms. “I know you’re Simon. But who are you and how did you get here?”