by Prax Venter
“And it’s impossible for you three now for sure.” She locked her almond eyes on Mark. “You want to come to my rescue, Hero? Escort me through the Utterback Catacombs, and we’ll all end up north of the city walls.”
Mark held up his hand and just held still, forcing everyone to take a few breaths before he spoke.
“Loa, you said we’re safe here, right?”
She looked up at the smooth stone ceiling and then nodded. Her shoulders drooped a little and Mark could see some of her tightly wound, frantic thoughts begin to loosen.
“Good,” he said softly. “Before we go dashing off into any catacombs- that I just know are infested with skeletons, can we please take a moment to rest and ask you some questions?”
“Fine, as long as you end up helping me get out of this city,” the dancer said, one of her eyebrows raised.
Mark looked over at Sasha and, her eyes still focused on something far away. He needed to dig into her past, now more than ever, but he put that aside for now and turned to Jezebel.
The tan, faun-like satyr shrugged. “Given what you’ve said about who Sasha murdered, the property we’ve destroyed, and how intense the security was at the exit… I don’t think we really have a choice. We need to head north anyway and check that other city, Thomellia. The optimal route would be to check there before we head back. At least we got a price point here before…”
“Right,” Mark said, turning to Loa. “We will absolutely help you get out of here. And… I’m sorry we kind of ruined your life.” He looked around her meager ‘home’ hidden deep inside a tomb, then cast his eyes back on the four-armed dancer dressed in a flimsy skirt and half halter top. Mark noticed for the first time that she might have been missing a few meals.
The female Skeema sighed, her whole body going limp. The strap on her bag slipped through her fingers and plopped to the floor.
“I’ve been meaning to leave Reoc’s Hold for a long time… I don’t belong here. You’ve just made the decision for me.” She gazed around at her poor lodgings and then added, “Abruptly.”
“Loa,” Mark said, pulling her attention back to him. “What is this Wrongside I keep hearing about?”
She narrowed her almond eyes. “Didn’t you see that unmissable portal standing in the middle of the city?”
“Yeah, I saw it, but I don’t know anything about it or your people. We’re all kind of new to these lands.”
Loa looked him over and then considered Jezebel and Sasha. With another sigh, the waifish dancer scooped up her three stuffed toys and tried to jam them into her pack. It was a tight fit, and the monkey’s legs were dangling over the edge, but she seemed finally ready to go.
“We have miles of passages to navigate, and I don’t have much food. I’ll tell you everything you want to know as we travel. But as you can plainly see-” she held all four of her palms out and looked down at her fit body- “I’m not actually one of my people.”
- 9 -
Sasha used her strong legs and sharp hooves to kick loose four of the glowing magic crystals embedded in the stone walls of the ancient tomb, and each member of the party took one to light their way through the absolute darkness. The sullen succubus had lapsed into a funk since she blasted a guy in the face for touching her, and Mark hadn’t said it out loud, but he was happy she did. His will had become obsessively focused on growing physically powerful- Lover be damned. He would do whatever it took to destroy anything that even looked at his women the wrong way. What good was being their lover if he could only heal the guy who dared to touch them? More than ever he wanted that phantom weapon ability. If he got it early, he could grow its power…
Mark put his frustrating thoughts on finding a good gift for the Awysai aside and focused on the four-armed dancer called Loa. Right now, she knew essential things about the complicated world around them. Her alluring hips swayed hypnotically in front of him, and he couldn’t help but stare for a few steps. She really did have a special way of moving.
“So, I’m not trying to be an asshole,” Mark began as they pressed forward in a single line through ancient and crumbling tombs. “But please explain how you are not a Skeema.”
“I’m shaped like a half-breed. A freak. A mix between a Stone and a Tree. Neither really accept me as one of their own.”
“Well, I think you are perfectly shaped,” Mark said and then realized how awkward it sounded. He quickly tried to get back to neutral territory. “They don’t mix, then? The big and little Skeema. Tree and Stone, you called them?”
“Trees fight the Wrongside armies. The Stones craft and build. This is the way of things.”
Jezebel spoke up from her position behind Mark.
“You’d think as a healer you’d be able to find decent work.”
Loa turned one of her gray eyes back over her shoulder. “All Trees can heal. All Stones can craft. I got the healing, but instead of a useful trade, I can dance. Skeema don’t value that ability.”
“Why haven’t you left sooner?” Jezebel asked.
Loa shrugged both sets of arms.
“I’ve moved around a lot, but… Ever stay somewhere terrible just because it’s all you know? Just because it’s home?”
“Yes,” the satyr said quickly, distant mental distraction echoing in her voice.
After a stretch of quietly creeping through the silent stone tomb, Mark spoke again.
“Tell me more about this Wrongside and that enormous portal.”
Loa took a deep breath and then let it out.
“Long ago a portal opened in our land, and terrible monsters spilled out. Where they touched, the land withered. Eventually, they came upon the twin Skeema nations of Trees and Stones. The ancient ancestors agreed to work together and formed a pact. Reoc the Stone then designed the great wall to contain the strange, all-consuming invaders from the Wrongside while Trees kept their numbers in check.”
“And they toss criminals through this portal?” Mark asked.
“It’s quite the deterrent,” Loa responded.
“So fascinating- these complex cultures that have developed organically over time,” Jezebel said behind him. “And all of the big, warrior Skeema can heal themselves?”
“And Twigs…” Loa added. It took Mark a moment to put together that “twig” was apparently the derogatory term used for half-breeds such as her.
“I agree with Mark,” Sasha said after being quiet for so long. “I think you are beautiful. You really know how to work what you’ve got, and I know you’ll find someplace where they’ll appreciate your artistry.”
Loa slowed for a moment before she resumed her long strides.
“Thank you,” she said finally. “All of you- for coming to my aid.”
“Mark is a good person,” Jezebel said, with a sigh.
“The best,” Sasha corrected her quickly.
He really hated it when they did that. When they talked about the other him he was supposed to be. Jezebel had known him for a day and a half, and even Sasha’s single-minded devotion was also starting to grate on him.
Mark shook his head in frustration, and the movement caused him to notice a faint blur of a red glow from the darkness in the passage ahead.
“Hold up,” he commanded, and all three women stopped. “I see something.”
“I should warn you,” Loa whispered, “we will need to fight the restless dead.”
“It’s a skeleton,” Mark said, trying to understand what he was seeing. He thought it was a spider at first, but the moving form just had to be an undead Skeema- one of the smaller ones. A child-sized skeleton with four arms. The whole monster was glowing red in the pure darkness far beyond the light cast from the magic crystals they carried, and Mark wondered if this was another new feature of his cursed eye.
“I see nothing,” Loa said.
“Trust me,” Mark responded, ready for the disbelief. He looked to the sullen succubus at the back. “I wish I hadn’t broken my club. Sasha, I need you up here to kick and bla
st these things. If we get overrun, Jezebel, do the vine thing and let’s retreat backward. Loa, you take up the rear.”
The attractive belly dancer turned her eyes to his, passing her focus over his scar and then back to his good eye again.
“I see it,” Sasha said, pushing past Mark and Loa, taking up position in front.
“There is only one,” he said, switching his light crystal to his other hand so he could draw his purple, makeshift dagger. The shard they had found from the glass lion probably wouldn’t be too effective against the bones of a skeleton, especially compared to his old wooden club, but it was better than nothing.
But the moment Mark pulled it from his belt and looked up, all the red glow had vanished. He could barely make out the slow-moving pile of bones shambling toward them. As a test, he tucked the sharp crystal back into his leather belt, and the red glow reappeared over its whole frame.
Mark watched Sasha hop forward and Side Kick the animated monster to pieces, wondering if his cursed eye was broken or if he was better off using his bare fists on these things.
A small flutter of essence entered his body from the kill.
“Nice work, Sasha,” he said, putting his hand on her bare shoulder.
With her eyes still scanning the darkness for threats, the succubus reached across her body to lay her hand over his.
“We need to go straight in this direction,” Loa said from her new position at the back of their formation. “There may be stairs down and then back up, but the tales say these passages connect to the surface again somewhere to the north of the city.”
The green-eyed satyr crossed her arms. “The tales say?”
“Let’s not worry about it,” Mark jumped in quickly. “Either way, we’ll collect some essence and help out a friend.”
Loa considered him, and he felt a spike of interest from her. Mark flashed her a smile then turned back to keep his magic eye out for more undead monsters. The possibility of adding the four-armed dancer to their party crossed his mind, but they didn’t really need another healer.
As he crept behind the vanilla-scented succubus, Mark’s mind finally came to grips with the fact that his whole life had taken a severe left turn. In an alternate timeline, he was in a virtual class learning Programming 101- or something similar, to try and better himself. Maybe get a better-paying job. Now he was escorting a team of supremely attractive monster-women through a pitch-black underground tomb loaded with waist-high, four-armed skeletons.
As they pressed deeper into the thick blackness of the stone tomb, they came across a few more animated piles of bone, and Sasha single-handedly kicked them apart with swift, deadly strikes. When they entered a larger chamber with descending stairs guarded by three of the undead creatures, Mark was a bit more concerned.
“Going left,” Sasha said, calmly stepping forward, her spade tail swishing.
Jezebel reacted by trapping the far right one with her Vines. Its sightless eye sockets turned downward, its jawbone opening and closing as it struggled against her snare.
Sasha handled the middle skeleton with a replay of the incident up on the street by vaporizing its skull with a powerful bolt of electricity. Without a pause, the badass succubus hop-kicked her other target right in the ribcage, sending it smashing against the far wall and into a cascade of still bones.
Mark walked up to the remaining many-armed skeleton trapped in the vines while its jaw chomped repeatedly, biting the air between them in frustration. Mark couldn’t help but notice that its head was dangerously close to crotch level.
“Seven seconds,” Jezebel said with a hint of worry in her voice.
He ignored her, his attention fixed on the uniform red glow covering its bones. Before, the extra color had indicated a weak-point or at least the best place to attack. Would he be able to kick it apart like Sasha?
Mark awkwardly tried to copy her Side Kick and aimed for its ribcage, but the moment he set his leg into motion, the red glow faded. Instead of what happened when Sasha sent her muscled chrome leg out to strike at these brittle foes, two of its four bony hands latched onto his foot.
The animated corpse almost tore off his boot, but Mark was able to yank his leg away before its gnashing, rotting teeth did any damage. The red glow returned for a moment before Sasha’s swift hoof un-animated the skeleton and sent more essence rushing into his body.
“Mark, you shouldn’t…” Jezebel began but cut herself off. He turned back to look at her almost-luminescent emerald eyes and saw concern. Hot anger bubbled up in inside him that he let out with a deep breath. Mark really liked Jezebel. Not only was she built like a mythical goddess, but she was competent and genuinely cared deeply about him. But her constant doubts about his ability to grow stronger really got under his skin.
He had never felt more motivation to prove someone wrong about something in his life.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s keep moving.”
They plunged down into darkness so thick it pressed back against the mysterious light their glowing crystals gave off. The stone stairs ended, and the passage leveled out again. This lower section of the ancient burial chambers was more open and much more ornate. Primitive yet intricately carved murals ran the length of the corridor that angled slightly downward toward the unseen blackness beyond. Two over-sized skulls flanked the hallway at the midpoint, and a horrible realization came to him.
“Did they bury the Tree Skeema down here too?” Mark asked, his voice unnaturally loud in the utter silence surrounding them.
“Yes,” Loa whispered from the back.
Mark shook his head. “Well, at least all of these angry ancestors are solid. We had a run-in with some transparent, untouchable ghosts yesterday.”
“If we find a big one down here,” Jezebel said, pulling her eyes from studying the primitive carvings, “I’ll keep it busy with my Bear Form and take the hits while Sasha wears it down.”
Mark nodded. It was a good plan.
“Okay, yeah,” he said. “If we do find one of those it will probably need room to move- giving us room to surround it. We got this, guys.”
They reached the end of the tall mural hall and found a rectangular doorway with blackness beyond.
“Just so you’re prepared,” Loa said, her voice only a faint whisper. “As far as solid ancestors go… If the tales are true, there are probably wraiths down in the deepest depths of the Utterback Catacombs. They’re why no one comes this way.”
Mark spun to face her. “Wraiths?”
She clarified. “Disembodied phantoms of pure manifested hatred.”
“So, how do we handle those?”
“You’re the Collector- with a battle harem of powerful Enthralled, aren’t you?”
“Oh honey,” Sasha said. “We just started at this yesterday.”
Loa’s almond eyes went wide. “What? But your scars…”
“Movement!” Jezebel called, pointing into the darkness.
When Mark turned to look, he saw two glowing red forms, and they were huge. The chamber beyond the carved hallway must have been cavernous, and their meager light from their crystals seemed only made for narrow passages. Both of the huge rotting corpses lurched directly for them, but Mark was focused on the one to the right. It was a much brighter red than the other one and hovered off the ground. Mark yelled out a warning.
“Two big ones incoming, and that one is probably a wraith!”
“I’m going to vine the wraith, then tank the giant skeleton,” Jezebel called out as she rushed forward. Sasha looked over at Mark before dashing out after the satyr.
Mark sucked in a frustrated breath as he ran out after them. He felt his heart skip when their combined light illuminated the wraith, a sheet-like creature with a vile, twisted face.
A green glow bloomed from Jezebel, and magic vines burst from the floor reaching up past the wraith’s nonexistent legs. The thing was enormous, and it let out an eerie hiss as Jezebel’s spell tried to fulfill its constrictive purpose.
Three seconds passed too slowly, and the giant Skeema skeleton came clattering toward the casting satyr. Sasha seemed torn about what to do and decided to Arc Bolt the giant pile of bones so it would change targets.
A burst of pure blue energy filled the room, lighting the cathedral-like chamber and the electrical attack only staggered the huge, four-armed skeleton, before it charged straight for his succubus.
As this happened, the wraith broke free from Jezebel’s low-level vines and resumed rushing forward like a sheet caught by a gust of wind.
The terrified satyr attempted to shift into bear form, but before she could, the frighteningly fast ghost swiped one of its ethereal arms down through her shoulder.
Jezebel let out a violent scream of agony that tore through Mark’s mind like he was being ripped in half himself.
He clenched his teeth and meant to target the downed and wounded satyr with his healing but saw Loa was already on it, beams of light radiating out of her four hands and all focusing on the motionless Jezebel.
Mark blinked, stunned. He wasn’t even quick enough with the healing- the one thing he was here for. The strange red glow he saw around the wraith flared up before it focused on the exposed back of his bonded succubus, and if he hadn’t been numbly observing it, the answer might never have clicked. His new eye was trying to show him its true weakness, and that meant…
Mark unloaded all the powerless frustration he had felt since picking his Lover class into a fierce, snarling Heal focused directly into the shadowy mass of evil that was moments away from harming another of his Enthralled.
Bright, jagged sparks cascaded over the wraith, and the ghostly creature howled a terrible, otherworldly wail as it faded to nothing. Mark felt a sizable blast of essence enter him, tickling his prostate as a reward for figuring it out.