The Monolith

by Stephen Roark

  “Smells sweet, don’t it?!” Gerrard cackled as he threw himself through the stagnant water, causing even more of the heinous, fetid stench to fill the air. I tugged at my cloak, wrapping my nose the best I could in an effort to fend off the horrible smell, and began breathing through my mouth. But that wasn’t much better either. I could taste the sickness in the water, like sea water in a stagnant pond or a swamp filled with dead things. I leapt through the putrid pond on my tip toes, no doubt looking ridiculous, but I didn’t care. Gerrard was moving quickly through the corridor, which was narrowing as the clusters of barnacles grew inward like a scaly fungus.

  “Gets tight here!” he shouted as he slid his slender body between the mounds of winking mollusks. I swatted at them with my axe, cleaving them off in thick sheets that burst when they hit the floor, spilling across my boots with a sickening chatter. They bounced more than they should have, as though propelled by some hidden means of motion, and I felt a wave of nausea pass through me as I cut my way through the cramped tunnel in pursuit of our guide.

  “This is disgusting,” Fujiko coughed behind me as I pressed forward, slashing away at the crustaceans that clung to the wall defiantly as if intent on blocking our passage.

  “Come, come!” Gerrard called out from ahead of us. I looked forward as a thick pod of barnacles slopped off the wall, cleaved away from their perch by the blade of Boucher’s axe. I saw his feet disappear around a corner. “Almost there!”

  “This way,” I called back to my companions as I stepped through the last narrow squeeze of the tunnel and took the turn in pursuit of the cutpurse.

  As I rounded the corner, I was greeted with a face full of leaves that were blown by a fierce wind. The ruins opened on all sides into a clearing ringed with trees the color of dull flames and roasted squash that rose up the slope of the mountain like a thick carpet of moss or rust colored broccoli. Mount Jadanus—it must be. It stood tall and proud, daunting and mysterious before me, carrying with it the weight of Rathborne’s words and Gerrard’s agreement to them. But there was no time to marvel or think as my eyes came to rest on the ambush Gerrard had sprung on us.

  44

  The Woman at the Base of the Mountain

  “What will you do?

  What will you say?

  Yama-Uba sits there

  All damn day.

  What a horrible beast!

  What terrible feet!

  But just what is it

  Upon which she feasts?

  —from the diary of Young Carl of Ebonmire

  A monstrous crone lay in a sickly hunch at the center of the burnt clearing as the autumn leaves blew across her mighty mane of long, unkempt hair the color of cast iron, flecked with grey like wisps of early winter snow that fell before its time. Her frail, yet voluptuous body was covered by a filthy, tattered kimono, its pattern long faded but seeming to hint at pale creatures, sea-like, crouched waiting behind deep violet rocks. Her skin was milky, lush with fat, mounded and heaped upon itself like a twisted fertility statue, and she must have been at least ten feet tall, but it was hard to judge from her position. She was hideous to look at, but what was even more terrifying was what she held in her hands.

  A child, mutated but quite obviously human. I couldn’t help but think of a failed genetic experiment as the mouthless infant fought to cry out and wriggled helplessly in the old woman’s vice-like grip. My face twisted in furious revulsion and Fujiko gasped behind me. Even Altarus sucked a sharp breath through his lips as the beastly thing raised the poor creature to her mouth and bit down.

  Bone crunched and blood poured—deep and almost black, not bright red like it should have been. Her mouth moved like a car crusher, grinding the little thing to bits before she stuffed the rest between her cracked lips, a black tongue the size of a person lapping up the drippings that had begun to spill down her chin.

  “Oh, fuck—” Fujiko vomited. I heard her sick hit the ground behind me and flashed my eyes in anger to the cutpurse, who was fidgeting with glee a few feet to my left.

  “You sleazy little—”

  But my voice stopped in my throat as the giant woman turned toward us. I looked back, focusing my eyes on her.

  Yama-Uba—Level 36

  She didn’t roar. She didn’t cry out. In fact, she didn’t make a sound as she stared down at us like a lion might stare down at a gazelle. Somehow, it was worse. It was as though there was no emotion involved in what she was about to do next. We were food, plain and simple, and she was going to eat us the way she’d eaten that poor deformed child.

  “Rand, we must go!” Altarus shouted, tugging on my sleeve. I didn’t argue.

  “I know.” Grabbing Fujiko by the arm, I pulled her back to her feet and spun around to retreat the way we’d come.

  The ground exploded before us. Black slabs of stone sprang from the ground blocking our path, forming a semi-circle around us and preventing any escape.

  “Gerrard!” I shouted, spinning around to face our betrayer. But to my surprise, he wasn’t smiling, laughing and pointing, reveling in the glory of his treachery. Instead, he was looking at us like a comrade, another member of our group.

  “Together we can get ‘er!” he shouted, waving his hands in the air like a symphony conductor. A golden mist sparked through the air and fell across our group. In the corner of my vision, a buff appeared.

  Gerrard’s Blessing—Provides 50% increase to all stats and cooldowns for 3 minutes.

  “Holy shit!” I blurted out as I watched my health bar increase from 504 to a monstrous 736. My Strength leapt to 39, which was many levels away if I was to raise it normally. The gigantic woman still had 24 levels on me though, and 26 on my companions. Even with Gerrard’s buff, this fight was going to be impossible.

  “I’ll distract the bitch!” Gerrard shouted. “You guys get ‘er!”

  And without hesitation, the cutpurse leapt into action. His sickle caught the giant woman in the calf, waking her from the entranced stare she’d fixed on us and dealing a decent amount of damage. This time, she cried out in pain, and her voice seemed to shake the very ground beneath us. Leaves slid across the ground and the breeze whipped up as she swung out with a heavy fist, swatting at Gerrard like he was nothing more than a gnat.

  But Gerrard was as nimble as he was cunning, and dashed low beneath her fist, letting it sweep the air above him, wafting the fallen leaves into a horizontal tornado that spun above his head as he lashed out again with his weapon.

  As the Yama-Uba roared, I looked back at my companions. Fujiko’s color had left her face, obviously still shaken up from the shocking sight we’d encountered on arrival.

  “Seems we have no choice,” Altarus said stoically, raising his Winchester and taking aim. He fired a Precision Shot that struck the giantess and seemed to splash into her thick flesh. Ripples of the milky fat swirled up her arm as she fought to drive Gerrard into the ground like a nail.

  Fujiko still looked too shaken up, but I wasted no time leaping into battle. If the son of a bitch had chosen to betray us, that was something we’d deal with after the fight. I had to find the Fortune Teller, and if that meant helping Gerrard and going through the Yama-Uba, then so be it.

  Her kimono swung about her thighs as she stood angrily and drove a fist toward the cutpurse. Finally, her knuckles found his flesh with a thick clap and sent him spiraling backwards into a mound of leaves, a decent chunk of his health missing. I raised my axe to swing, but she leapt forward with such unbelievable speed that my jaw almost dropped off. The ground quaked as she landed and planted a foot onto Gerard’s head, almost burying him into the ground with the enormity of the force she brought down on him.

  “Gah, ya vile heffer!” the cutpurse brayed as he squirmed out from beneath the enormous woman’s big toe and gulped down something that was probably Soothing Syrup. I dashed in again, using Shadowstep to get in close before the Yama-Uba had a chance to put any more distance between us, and sank my axe into her creamy calf.
r />   57

  It was decent damage, but nothing compared to what I’d do to something closer to my level, and when I saw her health barely move, it took everything I had to push down the sense of panic that was beginning to rise within me.

  How the fuck are we going to kill her?!

  The Winchester rang out again and I heard the splat of another of Altarus’ bullets find its mark. Gerrard swung out again and slashed the underside of her foot as she tried again to stomp him into dust. The wind seemed to have grown and leaves pelted my face as I slashed out, again and again, doing everything to get my Rally bar to blossom.

  55, 51, 62, 58, 49

  I was getting there when the old woman let out a shout that struck my chest like an invisible arrow, freezing me in place.

  -2

  Only 2 damage?

  But it wasn’t about the damage, I realized as the Yama-Uba turned to face me, ignoring our treacherous companion for the first time. My Rally bar vanished and all I could do was watch, tracing the wrinkle lines on the sole of the titan woman’s foot as she brought it down on my head.

  Somehow, I didn’t die. My health bar plummeted, leaving only 1 health remaining.

  -733

  The pain flared through my entire body and I felt as though my joints were about to burst from within. I tried to move, reach for a Soothing Syrup, but I was still frozen.

  Breath of the Yama-Uba—Incapacitates the target for 4 seconds.

  Shit!

  “Hey! Over here!” Altarus shouted as he fired his Winchester as fast as he could.

  Move, move!

  The debuff ticked down, but there were two seconds left and the prodigious woman was already swinging down to finish me off, her fingers curled back, at the second knuckle, the butt of her palm aimed straight at me like a martial arts strike I remembered seeing when I was a kid. But before she could mash me into pieces, possibly to dine on later, Gerrard’s strong fingers found my wrist and pulled. I slipped out of the indentation in the ground where I’d been hammered and was tugged across the ground just in time. Her palm strike beat the earth harmlessly behind me, but the shockwave sent Gerrard tumbling head over heels. His hands released me and I instantly gulped down my Morphine Lozenge. It tasted like what someone who had never tasted peppermint thought peppermint would taste like, and numbed the back of my tongue as it went down. Still, my health rocketed back up.

  +662

  Thank God for Horticus Humphries!

  I heard the clang of Fujiko’s hammer and looked up as a whirl of green and yellow sprites sprung from her limbs.

  Quickening!

  The color was still gone from her face, but she was swinging with everything she had. Despite that, each blow was hardly even registering against the Yama-Uba, so much so that I could barely even see her health dropping.

  There’s no way we can do this, I realized as I desperately thrust forward with a Blunted Strike.

  IMMUNE!

  “Shit!”

  I tried Crippling Blow.

  IMMUNE!

  She was just too high level and would resist all my skills. I couldn’t even imagine what her Toughness was, or any of her other resists. Gerrard cleaved her with his sickle, and her health dropped a good amount. I slashed out, doing anything I could to get my Rally bar up. If there was any chance of me doing any real substantial damage, it was with Rally.

  54, 53, 61, 47, 58

  It grew and grew, closing in on the end of the meter that would flex and bloom, signaling the onset of “badass mode,” but yet again, just as I was about to reach it, as though she had a sixth sense, the Yama-Uba kicked me. I flipped backwards, somersaulting across the vile glade, damage chipping away at my health until I slammed into one of the tall slabs of stone that had risen from the ground, with only 5 HP remaining.

  Head ringing, body stinging, I looked up as a whistle of strong wind tore through the air. Leaves gathered, spinning together as the Yama-Uba raised her arms and spun them in my direction, her kimono swirling as her powerful magic spat them violently in my direction.

  Killed by leaves…I thought helplessly as the attack closed in on me.

  This time, Altarus stepped in front of me and took the blow, the full force of the giantess’ spell chattering into him like a machine gun, chipping his health away until it vanished and he fell to his knees dead.

  There was no time to think. The woman of the mountain charged me. I popped a Soothing Syrup and hurled myself out of the way. She slammed into the stone pillars behind me, shattering one into pieces, but the way back was still blocked. Time seemed to slow as I swung wildly with Boucher’s axe and found a home in the back of the Yama-Uba’s thigh.

  MASSIVE!

  86

  That was how much damage one of my normal swings would have done against something similar in level to me, but with this woman, it was just barely enough to be considered a decent attack.

  This is hopeless, I thought, Shadowstepping to her other side as Gerrard leapt into her with his sickle. Her fists found him in mid-air and slapped him down like a heavyweight boxer might do to a child.

  I tried my skills again, as they’d come off cooldown. First, Blunted Strike.

  IMMUNE!

  And again, Crippling Blow.

  IMMUNE!

  “Goddamn you, Gerrard!” I howled as Fujiko put everything she had into the force behind her hammer. But her attacks were barely registering. It was like trying to chip down the wall of a castle with nothing more than a nail.

  “We can kill ‘er!” the cutpurse shrieked. “Don’t give up!”

  “You son of a bitch!” I shouted, half ready to just start hacking away at him, but he was level 32—there was just about as much chance of me killing him as there was me defeating the Yama-Uba.

  Gerrard dodged nimbly between her legs and slashed up against her thighs twice, dealing good damage. She was approaching about 75% when something happened. She planted both feet and drove both fists into the air, opened them, palms to the sky, and something behind her flared with blinding light. A sound of chimes rang out as the light pooled, swirled and injected itself straight into the back of her torso and I felt a swarm of despair as her health was restored to full.

  “NO!” I cried out.

  You’re going to die here, Clay, I thought as Gerrard continued his feverish assault. You’re never going to find the Fortune Teller. You’re never going to find Rey. Forget the monolith. Think your way home and go there and stay. You can do nothing.

  The world moved slowly as I watched the leaves swirl in mini tornadoes around the glade, the sun’s orange glow sleepily illuminating the horrible scene. Bodies of mutated children lay in a heap, piled atop bones sucked clean of their flesh, pools of congealed blood and guts beneath them. All the color was gone from Fujiko’s face as the Yama-Uba spun and slapped her away. Her health vanished as her body crashed awkwardly across the ground like a rag doll.

  The anger inside me was like the coals deep in Wilhelm’s forge, but there was no outlet for my rage. The game’s mechanics were against me. Despite Gerrard’s tremendous buff, I was just too low level, and I suddenly realized just how weak I really was and how long my journey would be if I was to really seek the monolith. Yaharan was surely a high level zone—if not the highest. It just didn’t make sense for it to be any other way. That meant there was very little hope I could hope to survive the twisted city and its hordes of screaming beasts.

  You can’t even make it up the mountain! How long do you think it will take to get there?!

  My fist clenched so tightly around the handle of my axe that my muscles tensed, flared with pain and began to spasm. If negative damage markers had begun to appear I wouldn’t have even been surprised.

  Gerrard was still hacking away, dancing nimbly away from her blows, but as her health fell, she simply healed again, sucking light from the tree behind her and restoring herself back to full.

  “You bloody bitch!” Gerrard hissed, slicing away with his sickle
, unable to admit that we were simply outmatched. He’d recruited us as bait, coerced companions in his quest to down the monster of the mountain, but his aim had been off. We were simply too low level to help him, and now he was facing his own death.

  What happens when he dies? I thought. Would he respawn somewhere or be gone for good? The second option seemed unlikely. He’d probably just be gone for a while and then respawn somewhere in the general area, ready to recruit another band of naïve travelers trying to make their way through the cruel, barnacle-infested Ruins of Londorin.

  The tree flared, pulsing its health into the Yama-Uba as she slammed down on Gerrard and snatched him up with one hand.

  “Help, Rand!” Gerrard shrieked, swinging wildly with his sickle. After what he’d done, I had no real urge to help him and simply watched as she raised him to her lips and sank her teeth into him as though he was one of the malformed infants she’d been feasting on when we first arrived.

  Half of Gerrard’s health bled away—possibly more—and his scream shook from his throat like a tortured animal. He slashed up with his sickle, sinking the blade into the roof of the Yama-Uba’s throat, and I heard the sound of a massive and saw a substantial chunk of her health vanish. She cried out and threw the cutpurse aside, decimating even more of his health as he hit the ground. But again, she raised her arms in a sweeping gesture and I watched as her health refilled, sucking life from the tree behind her.

  A spark shook my mind. It was small, but it was there—an idea so small it was probably nonsense but was, at this point, my only option beyond kneeling down and waiting for my death.

  As Gerrard gulped frantically at a Soothing Syrup, I Shadowstepped straight through the beastly hag and sprinted up the slope toward the tree behind her. As it grew closer, I saw tiny white creatures embedded in its bark, peering out through orb-like eyes of black gemstone.