“Shut up!” Threadbare yelled, finally losing his cool. “Drain Life!” Black energy stretched toward her... and failed.
“Woops. Looks like you need more practice,” Anise said, advancing on them. “And I know your weakness, little bear. I’ve been studying your breathing, every time you speak.”
He put his hand on his mouth—
And the daemon whirled, plucked up the dagger she’d de-animated between her toes, and sank it to the hilt in his chest with a single twisting toss, nailing him to the wall.
He coughed, surprised, and no sound came out. My voice box! She’s cut it!
“And so you end this, silent and helpless, just like you were so many years ago. Now, then—”
“Drain Life!” Graves shouted, and she shrieked as it tore a red ‘54’ from her. “Will you stop!” She screamed, and leaped after him.
No, Threadbare thought. Not this time! I won’t be helpless again! And with a mighty push, and a ripping that tore him from throat to gut, with a red ’252’ spilling from his body, he heaved himself from the wall. Stuffing sprayed, and oh, it felt wrong.
Your Golem Body skill is now level 26!
CON +1
STR +1
Your Toughness skill is now level 19!
Max HP +2
Anise sneered, and started toward him—
—and stopped, as he ripped two beads from where they’d been hidden in his blingy chain, and smashed them to the floor.
You have been healed for 119 points!
You have been healed for 125 points!
Threadbare’s front zipped back up, the stuffing wisped back into him, and inside, in his throat, he felt whole once more.
Threadbare took a breath. “Testing. Yes, I thought someone might try that at some point.” He had one mend golem bead left, but didn’t think it prudent to tell her that. “Now where were we?”
For just a second, she seemed worried. For just a second, her face twisted as she realized what she was up against.
Then, reality flickered, and kept flickering. Anise and Graves paused. “Oooh, the master’s stepped out,” Anise cooed. “You realize that your last chance to run is now? Thirty seconds, and this dungeon will be gone. Then you’ll have nowhere to hide.” She slammed her foot into Graves again, shattering his shield and sending him back with repeated kicks.
“No,” Threadbare whispered. Fluffbear can’t come in here! She’s far too weak to handle Anise right now!
Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he could handle her. Not at all.
“Corps-a-Corps!” Graves yelled, and suddenly, to everyone’s surprise, he was shoving her against the wall, blade pinning her leg by the ankle.
She blinked at him.
“Get her please!” Graves howled.
Threadbare came in on one side, and Pulsivar stirred himself, leaped in on the other, ripping into her toughened flesh.
And she laughed.
“Getting in close with a succubus? Unwise. Dark Kiss,” She whispered, and then she leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around Graves, flipping his visor open with her teeth and kissing him full on the lips.
With a moan, he withered, flesh shrinking against his bones as he toppled with a crash of armor that was now much too heavy for him—
—and just as he fell, so did the dungeon. Pulsivar retreated, and Threadbare leaped onto Graves. “Innocent Embrace!”
Nothing happened.
Whatever was wrong with him, it wasn’t something healing could fix.
“Time’s up, darlings,” Anise smiled, turning to see who had arrived to challenge her. “Now where’s that dungeon’s... master...” she trailed off as a small figure appeared, leaping from the shallow water of the cove.
“Heavens Blade! Holy Smite!” Squeaked Fluffbear, and with a howling, thoroughly unhappy Mopsy bearing her forward, charged the daemon with everything she had. She rode past, gouging her glowing dagger along her ankle, sending a red ‘43’ up.
But Anise didn’t move.
Anise turned, staring drunkenly at the little black bear, who reined in Mopsy and glowered up at her. “Leave them alone!”
“You... you...” Anise said, shaking. “No... how... no... Amelia!” She roared, her voice mingled with something inhuman and deep, bellowing, filling the chamber, “You fight me on THIS, Amelia? This TOY! You... I...” She fell to her knees, and blood pattered out of her eyes, bloody tears spilling onto the sand of the dark cove under the church.
“Fluffbear,” A woman’s voice said, hissing from Anise’s throat. “Her name is Missus Fluffbear. And you can’t HAVE her!”
Threadbare stared.
For a second, he was tempted. For a second, he though they might be able to end it, here and now. Could he? She was tough, but if she was paralyzed...
She’s not paralyzed, his common sense told him. And hitting her might snap her out of it.
WIS +1
And then, to his great relief and horrible guilt, a voice resounded in his mind.
“I’m safe! Graves has me!”
“Celia. Oh Celia, I’m so sorry..”
“Run! Run before she kills you!”
“What she said!” Kayin yelled, from her own soulstone.
“We’re leaving!” He yelled to Fluffbear. “Go!” He gathered up his dagger and scepter, stowed them.
“But I have to—”
“Go!”
Anise stretched out a trembling hand as Mopsy carried the little armored teddy bear up the stairs, followed by a very done Pulsivar, who’d lost all the lives he cared to tonight, thank you very much.
For his part, Threadbare ran to Graves. “Can you run?”
“No...” Graves held up a hand, trembling, with the glow of full soulstones leaking from within his grasp. “Take them and leave me!”
“No. No one else dies!” Threadbare decided. “Can you hold your breath?”
Behind them, the demon screamed in two voices, but the strange one was already fading.
“Yes?” Graves said.
“Good! Animus! Invite Armor!” Threadbare slapped his breastplate, and under his mental directions, the suit rose and ran into the surf, with Threadbare clutching Graves’ hand and the precious cargo they’d nearly died to protect.
“Amelia, you stupid bitch,” Anise hissed, voice breaking, warbling as she rose, panting, to her knees. “You only delay the inevitable. And as for you—” she turned her head to the toys, and the withered death knight...
...and her eyes widened as she saw only ripples in the dark water of the cove.
She stood, wincing at the damage she’d taken. At least the dungeon’s destruction had dispelled those damnable wards. “You got lucky!” She bellowed. “Run! You have nowhere to go! I’ll find you, and when I do...”
Anise smiled, looking down at the body parts she’d successfully kept intact, throughout the fight. “I won’t be alone,” She finished, looking down at Cecelia’s pale, surprised face. In her other hand, the princess’s heart beat its last.
Underwater, mere dozens of meters away with Graves holding his breath as best as he could as his newly-animated armor carried the crippled Death Knight along the bottom of the lake, Threadbare heard the daemon shout, and only now, with the danger gone, did he sag in defeat.
He would have done anything to have spared her this.
Threadbare had failed his little girl, right when she needed him the most.
And yet... he hadn’t lost. Not entirely.
CHAPTER 13: AND YET SHE PERSISTED
The hunter’s cabin was deep in the marsh, long abandoned, and well-shielded from the sight of the town. Which is why it had been a drop-off point for the reagent smuggling trade, back when Catamountain had still been in existence.
Graves and Threadbare emerged from the shallows near the shack, to find the place quiet. Too quiet.
“It’s...” Threadbare spat the last water from his voicebox. “It’s me. This armored guy is a friend, too.”
“T’ank
goodness.” Zuula said. “Dreadbear. Fluffbear and cats tell us what happened. We sorry. We so, so, sorry.”
Threadbare hopped down from Graves’ shoulder, and held up his paws. Two soulstones glittered between them. “We’re not all lost. Do we have any yellow reagent left?”
“About ten vials.”
“Good. Good... I...” He sagged. “I don’t know what else to do,” he whispered.
And then Fluffbear and Zuula came out of the deep shadows by the shack and hugged him, and Threadbare sobbed, gasping, tearless eyes staring into the night. He couldn’t cry but he could try, and in time it made him feel better.
“Erm,” Graves said. “My helm’s at a bad angle and it’s very dark here. What exactly is going on?”
Threadbare glanced back the way they came. The swamp was thick here, in this little inlet off the lake. Nonetheless, he patted Zuula and Fluffbear until they backed away, then strolled up to the side of the cabin away from the lake before saying “Glow gleam.” His hat lit up, and he dialed it down until it wasn’t blinding, and put it on the porch. “Clean and Press.” he threw in, cleaning the water from it, and getting rid of his own dampness as well.
Inside the shack, Pulsivar and Mopsy looked up from a serious nap session, and glared at him. Did he have no consideration for the hard work they’d done tonight?
To the side, Annie Mata’s cart lay, with the tailgate of the wagon open and a crate stacked high with glimmering soulstones on it.
“Alright dudes!” A cheery, burbling voice called from the shore. “I think that’s the last of— whoa! A soldier!”
“Friendly!” Graves wheezed. “I’m friendly! Don’t shoot!”
“He okay, Dreadbear say so,” Zuula confirmed.
“You can talk now?” Threadbare glanced over, as the fishman doll stepped from the shadows. Made of wood, stuffed with ejectable stones for ballast, and with leather air bladders that let him submerge and rise with a bit of work, the fishman they’d taken to calling Glub had adjusted well to his new existence.
“Yeah. Got tired of you and Fluffy having to do that deadspeaky thing. I leveled when I was trying the thing with the boats. Turns out bards get another borrowed skill at fifth level, so I stuck this thing called “Knack for Languages” into it. I’m runnin’ it now, it’s totally baller.”
Glub had never had an adventuring job option before, and had liked the notion of being a bard the most from what he’d unlocked in his old life. Which was fortunate, as his rejuvenating song had helped Threadbare regain sanity faster while they prepared the defenses and evacuation of the town.
And his aquatic nature and darkspawn trait made him the perfect fit for the last part of plan ‘nobody dies permanently.’
“Dese de last? You sure?” Zuula asked, taking the soulstones from him.
“Yeah. Hey, did Garon and Mads make it back?”
“No. They’re in the stones somewhere. I hope,” Threadbare said. “We need to check. Speak with Dead.”
Immediately a hubbub of voices erupted from the crate, and Zuula’s arms. She sighed, and hopped up on the tailgate, and chucked the stones in with the rest.
“Please, please, one at a time,” Threadbare said. “Garon?”
“I’m here.”
“Madeline?”
“I’m heah.”
Graves started, and his armor rattled. “Mads? From Rack Street?”
“Herbie? Holy shit! Little Herbie, all grown up!”
“Wait, you know each other?” Threadbare rubbed his head.
“Yeah! Back when I was tryin’ ta blend in with Cylvania City’s nahtlife, my gang had this little kid that ran errands for us. Somewahn’s brother. Smart kid, for a street rat. Now heah you are, all... ooh. What happened, man?”
“Long story. A daemon kissed me. And from what my status screen tells me, it looks like it’s a curse. My strength’s currently a three.”
“Oof. Dat bad,” Zuula said. “Can’t do nutting for curses. Need a cleric, ’bout twenty level or so. Or Oracle. Or wait until daemon remove curse.”
“I don’t see that happening, I don’t think,” Threadbare said.
“Hello?” Celia’s voice asked, and the toys froze. Threadbare buried his face in his paws. “Zuula? Garon? You’re here too?”
“Yes,” Zuula whispered. “Yes child, we are. Dreadbear, what is dis? How...”
“She was the one in the steam knight,” Fluffbear squeaked. “Threadbare thought her voice was familiar, but we didn’t know until the fighting got in the town. And we heard the soldiers yelling about Captain Ragandor.”
Garon spoke up. “Yeah. We had to try to talk to her. Mads and I gave up on the divebombing runs and we pulled back to the church so Threadbare could set up the neutral ground, try to defuse the situation. Then that fucking assassin came out of nowhere.”
“Sorry about that, by the way,” Kayin spoke up. “If it’s any consolation the little nasal one and the cultists there did for me, too.”
“She’s with me,” Graves added, hastily. “Or rather we’re with Dame Ragandor. Inquisitor Layd’i turned on us. She was the daemon that cursed me.”
“You’re the one that got me? Eh, it was war, no hard feelings,” Garon said. “That body had problems. Dragon wasn’t for me, as it turned out. No matter how powerful it was.”
“Now me, on the othah hand...” Madeline said, musing.
“Body?” Kayin asked, confused.
“Yeah, we’ll all get new bodies!” One of the soulstoned villagers shouted. “And be born again, for real, not like Hatecraft’s lies!”
“Yeah!”
“Right on!”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Easy, easy, please,” Fluffbear squeaked. “We have to tell the new ones about the deal, to see if they want to do it, too.”
“Deal?” Cecelia asked, warily. “I’ve had about enough of deals for the next few years. Too many daemons.”
“I’ve found a way to put soulstoned spirits into golem bodies,” Threadbare explained.
The clearing filled with silence, save for the muttering of the happy ex-cultists.
“Holy shit,” Graves finally gasped.
“Is it better than being a knife for all eternity?” Kayin asked.
Graves eyes’ glittered in his withered face. “Yes. Most hauntblades and wraitharmors eventually go mad. But if you’re talking a body with full manipulation, sensory abilities like a golem could provide, and a voice for ease of socialization... wow. That has possibilities.”
“You know something about this?” Threadbare perked up.
“A little. There are these guys called Spirit Mediums that are supposed to operate in those areas, but I never got high enough rank to have the clearance to learn about them. That knowledge is in the very restricted section of the archives.”
“I’ve unlocked that, but I can’t take it. I think it’s to do with golemist and necromancer.”
“From the rumors I heard, either animator and enchanter are viable combos with necromancer to unlock it. I was going to go enchanter, anyway, at some point. If you tell me how you did it, then I might be able to learn that job for you, help you out with this.”
“And why would you do dat?” Zuula said, frowning at him. “You was killing some of dese people not too long ago,” she pointed at the crate of soulstones, some of whom were murmuring angrily.
“Yes, and I’m sorry. We thought they were going to call up the old one, and that they were sacrificing children. Your little bear friend set us straight. And when the Captain turned on the Inquisitor, I turned with her. I’m an enemy of the Crown now, the same as you.”
“And the Crown has to stop,” Cecelia decided. “Stop killing its own people, stop helping daemons,stop driving entire towns to rebellion, stop these senseless wars that it started. It has to stop the lies, and it won’t unless WE stop it.”
That got cheers from the assembled spirits.
And for the first time since he’d failed, Threadbare felt hope r
ising in his heart. He opened his mouth, closed it, and decided to ask the question that he hadn’t dared to ask before. “Will... will you let me put you into a new body, Celia? Will you stay with us, and help us save everyone?”
“Of course, you silly bear!” Cecelia said. “I just got you back, there’s no way you’re getting rid of me so easily!”
Threadbare sagged in relief.
He’d done it.
She hadn’t lived through the process, sure, but he’d saved Celia.
And with a soft chime, Caradon’s last gift to him unlocked, and he became nine thousand, four hundred, and sixty two experience points richer.
You are now a level 13 Greater Toy Golem!
+2 to all attributes!
You are now a level 14 Greater Toy Golem!
+2 to all attributes!
You are now a level 15 Greater Toy Golem!
+2 to all attributes!
You are now a level 12 Cave Bear!
CON+10
WIS+10
Armor+5
Endurance+5
Mental Fortitude+5
You are now a level 8 Enchanter!
DEX+3
INT+3
WILL +3
You are now a level 9 Enchanter!
DEX+3
INT+3
WILL+3
You are now a level 10 Enchanter!
DEX+3
INT+3
WILL+3
You have unlocked the Boost +10 skill!
Your Boost +10 skill is now level 1!
You have unlocked the Disenchant skill!
Your Disenchant skill is now level 1!
You have unlocked the Spellstore X skill!
Your Spellstore X skill is now level 1!
You are now a level 6 Duelist!
AGI+3
DEX+3
STR+3
Threadbare sighed in relief, feeling his pools refill. And with a slightly sharper mind, the massiveness of the tasks ahead of them came into focus.
“This won’t be easy,” he said. “We’ll need all the help we can get.”
“We’ll go to the dwarves,” Cecelia said. “In this case, the enemy of my enemy really IS my friend. Beryl named me a clan friend, remember?”
“I think that was before she knew you were the King’s daughter,” Garon pointed out.
Threadbare Volume 2 Page 32