Beastborne

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Beastborne Page 6

by James T Callum


  Unfortunately, his inability to adapt to his new reality on Aldim cost him. The few seconds he could have been looking for threats were now expended.

  And the Corvids were launching another series of attacks.

  Hal picked up his blade and hopped to his feet. He barely rose to his full height before four Corvids crashed into him. He struck one with [Brilliance], the ring of his sword against the creature’s beak numbed his arm but saved him from the worst of the monster’s attack.

  He lashed out with the [Chain of Binding] at another, setting his feet and giving a mighty essence-infused tug, forced the creature to caw in surprise and crash into the third Corvid.

  The sound of their hardened feathers as they collided was like a chandelier shattering upon the floor.

  But it wasn’t enough. Whatever speed he managed to give himself was gone and a deep fatigue settled in his legs despite the infusion of shadow essence.

  The last Corvid struck him in the thigh with its massive wing, just barely missing him with its spear-like spines that erupted all over its body. The crystalline feathers shattered and splintered into his armor.

  He chain-cast Warding on each of his companions. Runic, multi-layered barriers that greatly reduced damage to a single type of enemy. In this case, the rabid Corvids.

  You cast Warding on [Ashera].

  You cast Warding on [Mira].

  You cast Warding on [Angram].

  You cast Warding on [Elora].

  The spell’s description didn’t fully make sense when he first received it and only after his own experimentation did he understand it.

  Warding

  Shield an ally with layered protective runes. Each layer provides a stacking 10 Resistance to a given entity, resulting in a total of 50 Resistance against the first hit from that entity. Each layer of protective runes vanishes from a single attack of the specified entity. Attacks from other creatures do not affect the spell. Additional casts refresh the effect.

  Every point of Resistance was the same as saying 1% less damage taken. Each layer of the spell granted a 10% stacking damage reduction to a given enemy, starting at 50% and reducing by 10% each time that person was attacked by that specific enemy.

  Unfortunately, as with other facets of Oathforger, it only affected his allies. He could not cast the spell on himself.

  When used properly, it was a potent spell that he could use to protect his friends. He hadn’t reacted fast enough before but he was on top of it now. He had the MP to cast it many times, refreshing the layered barrier whenever it seemed somebody was about to take a bigger hit.

  It was all he could do to keep them on their feet.

  Despite the liberal use of Warding, his friends weren’t faring much better. They had gathered around Ashera as much to protect her as to benefit from her healing. But without that healing, those diving runs were racking up a lot of damage.

  None of them were above 75% HP.

  The Corvids could smell blood and it drove them into a frenzy.

  Cawing and squawking filled the air. Blood ran freely down each of their bodies as they struck back and dodged as best they could. But even when one of the divebombs failed, another could explode from the ground below them.

  Perhaps, most devastating of all, were their obsidian-sharp feathers. A single brush broke the brittle things and caused splintering shrapnel to pelt those nearby.

  Gathering strength in his legs again, Hal could see only one way they could make a dent in such a large group. Individually they weren’t weak but as a whole they were overwhelming.

  And his party needed a great deal of healing that was only growing with each passing second.

  As much as Hal had embraced the truth of his person and realized how pivotal Thirty-seven’s words were about the Founder Sigils, he still couldn’t bring himself to use them constantly.

  Knowing that he was so close in history and personality to Rinbast, he felt dirty using the Sigils. The deep, yearning desire to use them – even above Beast Magic – disturbed him most of all.

  Rinbast surely used them to devastating effect and he feared that part of himself that was too much like the Founder. But the truth was, if he ever hoped to challenge the man, he would need to embrace the Sigils as a weapon as well.

  Not doing so would be to leave himself open. Vulnerable.

  And if Thirty-seven was correct that only one of them could have any given Sigil at one time, any Sigil Hal discovered was one weapon removed from Rinbast’s arsenal.

  What essence-infused strength he could gather into his legs was severely diminished from his earlier attempt. Hal didn’t understand why he was suddenly so much weaker but he couldn’t waste any time thinking about it.

  He sprang into the air in a weak facsimile of what Mira had done earlier, knowing it would incense the frenzied creatures to attack him. He needed them out in the open for this to work.

  The bottom of his stomach dropped out from his surge into the air and fear stole over his heart as he saw the crisscrossing shimmering glow of Premonition warning him of countless impending attacks. Dozens of black shapes turned and launched themselves from the high branches directly at him.

  Hal extended his free hand, letting the [Chain of Binding] dangle, wrapped around his wrist. His fingers curled like talons of his own.

  Even under the sleeve of his [Shaper’s Coat], Hal could see the shining glow of his Founder’s Mark with the moonlight glow of the Manatree insignia as he summoned Dominate to ensnare each of the Corvids diving for him.

  Normally, he wouldn’t be able to Dominate this many. But with Shae’kathoth’s Soul, his capacity for domination was doubled. That only made the ability feel even darker.

  But at the moment, he was secretly grateful.

  Well over two dozen Corvids suddenly blossomed as tiny motes of awareness in his mind. He had only a few scant seconds to redirect each of them to stop his own body being impaled a dozen times over.

  Focusing all his willpower onto the unthinking creatures, Hal managed to narrowly avoid killing himself or his new pets. Once they were clear of each other, he set them to attack the wild Corvids.

  He needed to reduce their number as fast as possible.

  The Corvids crashed into each other as he felt a sickening tearing sensation deep in his chest. His HP dropped a third, then a third of that, then again, leaving him with a sliver of HP remaining.

  Hal fell from the sky as limply as Mira had. Blinded by pain, Hal managed to guide a single Corvid to brace his fall as he hit the sharp glassy feathers and rolled off onto the ground at Mira’s side.

  Recognizing Hal as a friend, the feathers didn’t shatter or harm him. If they had, he wouldn’t have survived them.

  In his exuberance to save his friends, to make a difference, he made a grave mistake.

  Unlike normal spells, Founder Sigil’s were powered by EXP. And Hal just tried to Dominate over two dozen creatures at once without enough EXP for even half that.

  The resulting trauma ripped through his body as the Sigil pulled vital energies from wherever it could to satisfy the constraints of the invoked Sigil.

  The bird beside Hal spread its wings to shield both himself and Mira from the Corvids he didn’t have under his control.

  Those above that could still fly dove into their unsuspecting brethren. The cacophonous squawking and cawing that had saturated the air just a moment ago was transformed into screeching and the crackling flutter of glassy wings.

  Crystalline feathers rained onto the forest floor as the two factions of Corvids attacked each other. The wild Corvids were quick to turn on their traitorous kind, granting the group a slight reprieve as all attention was turned to the complex web of branches above.

  Through the strain of it all, Hal managed to have enough presence of mind to tap his Assimilation, draining all of his SP and what was left of his MP to pull himself back to full HP. He reached a hand out to the Corvid sheltering them and used Assimilation on it, killing it and transfer
ring all of its life over to Mira with a touch.

  As one of the few in the caravan that Hal had the Sympathy trait with, he could use Assimilation to share vital resources. And since a dominated creature counted as an extension of himself, he could use the Corvids to heal her.

  In fact, he could heal more than just Mira.

  As the Dragoon began to rouse, her wounds sealing shut before his eyes, Hal wondered about the distance of Assimilation. In his near-death state, he lost [Brilliance] somewhere, but it freed up his other hand.

  Reaching skyward, Hal focused on each of the Corvids he had under his control. He concentrated on them, feeling them as keenly as he could feel each of his fingers. And with a great wave of malicious thought, drained what HP and SP they had – unsurprisingly they had no MP – and directed that into each of his party members.

  Streaks of red, green, and blue light fell like rain upon himself and his friends, restoring each of them to full while destroying well over two-thirds of the Corvids.

  It was a good thing he gained Sympathy with them since leaving Murkmire.

  Those that his use of Assimilation didn’t kill, Hal sent on suicidal diving runs at the remaining creatures not under his control.

  The ground was littered with crashing Corvid bodies. His vision flooded with the prompts of their deaths. Items rained into his Inventory and he found he could not focus on the prompts as consciousness began to fail him.

  You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 24]

  You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 26]

  You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 22]

  You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 27]

  …

  Before several of the creatures made contact with the ground they vanished in a puff of purple smoke, filling him with essence.

  The effort wasn’t without its cost, what EXP they gave was largely taken up by the cost of Dominating them. Though Hal was restored, his strength was spent.

  Darkness closed in and whisked Hal away from the sounds of battle. Even the acid-burn of gaining more essence didn’t rouse him.

  7

  Ashera leaned back, narrowly avoiding a talon attack from one of the few Corvids left after Hal’s grandiose display. His Warding barrier of shifting layered runes still covered her but she wasn’t about to waste its protections by being reckless.

  She swung her mace in retaliation. The cruelly ridged metal blades that lined the thick head bent and shattered with the blow. The head of the mace crumbled as if its very core had rusted away. The entire thing rotted in her hand until she was defenseless.

  A growing trend that was fast becoming tiresome.

  But she accepted it all in stride, leaving the [Stargiver] to become nothing more than a memory. Ashera pulled out a mace Hal had badgered her to get, if only as a backup. “We did pay for all these, you know,” he told her shortly after the caravan left Murkmire. “Might as well select one you like. Even if you never use it. No harm in carrying a backup, is there?”

  She shook her head as she tested the weight of the [Tenderizer]. It was far heavier than her [Stargiver], not to mention it wasn’t even a mace. The Dwarves, it seemed, did not quite grasp the concept of a mace.

  But hammers? Those they understood. The [Tenderizer] was a “maul”, though the Dwarves appeared to think that meant, “really big hammer.” As far as Ashera was concerned it was a tactless weapon that she would have difficulty controlling with any degree of skill.

  Though she hadn’t lost any of the stats from Sin Keeper, where most of her STR came from, she still found the [Tenderizer] unwieldy. It had four large gold-ringed circular hammerheads. Durvin had suggested it for her. “Don’t matter where ye swing it, this weapon’ll hit yer target and make it think twice afore it bothers ye again, lass.”

  A nice sentiment but the additional heads made the weapon heavy and its long handle felt awkward in her grip.

  Relaxing her grip on the handle, Ashera moved her hands closer to the spiked pommel at the base as another Corvid slipped through Angram’s whirling blades.

  Instead of waiting for it to come to her, Ashera took two large strides towards the creature. It opened its black beaked maw, showing row upon row of black glinting ridges disturbingly similar to teeth and yet clearly not.

  With a twist of her hips, she swung the hammer in a backswing. So used to her smaller and more nimble mace, Ashera was surprised by the way the [Tenderizer] tugged at her arms. She couldn’t control the arc so much as hold on and hope it didn’t fly out of her grasp.

  The Corvid lunged for her. She was caught out mid-swing. Ashera squeezed her eyes shut knowing she couldn’t get her weapon back under control to block.

  It didn’t matter.

  With a deep, satisfying crack the [Tenderizer] didn’t give the Corvid any time to realize its error. Ashera opened her eyes in time to see the horrifying creature make a bizarre, gurgling sound. Its beak shattered into a million obsidian fragments.

  The thing’s neck spun around so violently that it didn’t even have time to realize it was dead. It crashed to the ground as Ashera quickly backpedaled away from it. The Corvid’s legs twitched and raked the air behind it for a few seconds before it was stilled.

  Maybe I could get used to this, she thought.

  Ashera looked down appraisingly at the [Tenderizer]. She was beginning to understand why the Dwarves favored these weapons.

  While slow on the windup and fairly unwieldy, the latter didn’t matter if she was committed to every strike.

  Due to her Sin Keeper Fabled Class, Ashera was typically reserved in her combat prowess. The Class required a lot of balancing of both healing and damage, managing Sin by harming an enemy to heal an ally.

  Though she lacked the host of abilities and spells Sin Keeper granted, she was freed of its restrictive rules. Uncharacteristically Ashera waded into the fray, swinging the [Tenderizer] with wild abandon.

  No more reserved and measured strikes. She swung with all her might and every blow that connected put down a Corvid. Those that didn’t immediately perish under the tremendous blow would quickly be ended by the competing weapons of her friends. Be it an arrow, a pair of curved swords, or a spear.

  Though the Dragoon would only lend her aid every so often. Whenever she could mark an opening in their defensive ring around their downed friend, Hal.

  They mopped up the remaining Corvids quickly after that. More often than not, Ashera led the way with a great sweeping swing of her new favorite weapon.

  Had any of the Corvids survived the battle, they may have learned to fear Ashera’s sudden freedom from her restrictive Class and the identity she had misguidedly taken upon herself all those years ago.

  She hardly recognized her own battle prowess until there remained no more Corvids for her to work out her inner-demons upon. Breathing hard from the thrill and effort of such a continuous fight, Ashera barely registered the concerned glances from her friends.

  “Ashera… is everything okay?” Angram asked, edging toward her like she was some feral animal.

  Taking a look down at herself, she could see why. Her dark metal plate mail was splattered in black blood. It smeared across her face from when she hit one Corvid that, quite alarmingly, exploded into a cloud viscera and gore.

  Ashera holstered her [Tenderizer] and turned with a subdued smile to Angram. “I am fine.”

  His stance relaxed, and the observant once-Sin Keeper didn’t miss the way it spread across her allies. Hal lay still and unconscious, unaware the battle had concluded without him.

  Would he have looked at her with such concern and worry?

  Ashera shook her head and forced a smile onto her face. “Unless somebody wants to carry Hal, I suggest we take a moment to make camp and recover for a little until he regains awareness,” Ashera suggested. “It would be well worth the risk of drawing additional monsters. We could take this time to eat and gather ourselves before pressing on.”

  Since nobody objected, Ashera began taking ou
t her pot and kettle to make some tea and a late afternoon meal. Glancing at Hal, she couldn’t help but think that he would not have judged her.

  Out of all their company, Hal would have understood her desire to lash out the most. Her need to free herself from the restrictive binding chains that had kept her safe and yet a prisoner at the same time for so long.

  Elora and Angram set up a campfire away from the bloodstained ground while Mira dragged Hal over beside them. When the campfire was roaring in earnest, Elora sidled up alongside Ashera. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, her voice pitched low so nobody else could hear.

  Ashera shrugged her shoulders, feeling the form-fitting metal plates slide and clink. She kept her focus on the meal, with 22 Levels in Cooking, Ashera could whip up a meal faster than any of them. She made it taste pretty good too with her Practiced Perfection perk.

  Without her healing from Sin Keeper, she would need to rely heavily on her other talents. Aside from Attendant, Occultist was her only other Class. The former was neither strong nor illustrious and the latter was… not something she preferred to use if she could avoid it.

  They would have to do until she could figure out her path forward.

  “Are you sure?” Elora pressed. “I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t using your healing. Is everything all right?”

  Biting back the first snappish reply – Elora didn’t deserve that, the woman had a hard enough time showing she cared, Ashera didn’t need to make it any harder – she shook her head and said, “No, it is not all right.”

  Feeling Elora’s hand grab her own nearly broke her. Ashera stopped what she was doing and turned to face the normally stoic Ranger. She squeezed her hand and fought back the moisture that rimmed her eyes.

  “Tell me,” Elora urged.

  Rip it off quick and clean, Ashera reminded herself. “I broke my Covenant. I lost all access to my Sin Keeper Class unless I recant and receive absolution. I… can’t heal anymore.” Ashera quickly dropped her gaze.

 

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