Neither combatant had seen Syzak creeping up behind the bastion, claws spread out at his sides. The snake-man lunged at the same time the jackal stumbled, and the gambit worked. A full dose of Paralytic Envenomation surged through the creature’s veins, and its body stiffened, freezing a fearful expression on its snout. Kadorax ripped the knife from his leather, threw it to the ground, then solemnly ran his blade through the stunned jackal’s back.
As soon as he was sure the jackal was dead, Kadorax doubled over in pain and exhaustion. Next to him, Syzak was out of combat spells. They both still had a lot of fight left in them, but not without at least a moment’s respite.
In front of the altar, Brinna hadn’t fared well. The jackal had fired off two more magical attacks into her chest. The woman wheezed on her back as she rolled side to side, both of her daggers scattered on the ground at her feet.
To the left and near the opening where they had come from, the two assassins had the armored leader down, and they were taking calculated, coordinated stabs at the only jackal remaining against them.
“Come on,” Kadorax growled through gritted teeth. He could still hear the knights fighting in the first room. “Hurry!” he shouted in their direction.
The spike pit dissipated from the floor, and Kadorax ran forward to help Brinna. He slashed down hard with an overhead swing, fully anticipating a magical attack to meet his brazen assault, but none came. At the last possible moment, when there was already no chance for Kadorax to stop his momentum, he caught a glimpse of frosty white shimmering within the mat of the jackal’s dark hair. Ice Armor.
Kadorax’s blade touched the jackal’s shoulder, and then he was frozen in midair, completely encased in a solid sheet of ice. At incredibly high levels, Ice Armor would last long enough to suffocate a person, a fact Kadorax knew well. Judging by the relatively painless level of cold the spell brought with it, he knew his icy prison wouldn’t survive more than a handful of seconds. Still, even a handful of seconds would likely prove to be too much.
The jackal mage finally showed signs of exhaustion as it cast another spell toward Brinna. A slow-moving arrow of energy emanated from the creature’s finger. Kadorax could just barely see the spell from the corner of his frozen eyes, and despite the blurred details obscured by the ice, he knew what it was. The jackal had cast Pinning Arrow, a complex incantation designed to impale an already immobile target. His mind whirled as he considered the implications of the jackal’s defensive enchantment. The Pinning Arrow had been meant for whoever the Ice Armor had frozen. Had it been single combat, Kadorax would have easily lost.
The arrow was headed right for Brinna’s lower back. The woman was unarmored and too wracked with pain to know to get out of the way.
Syzak saw what was about to happen. The arrow would tear through Brinna’s body, living up to its namesake and pinning her to the cavern floor where she would die a miserable death. He hissed, his bloody fangs bared, and dove to meet the slow, ethereal projectile. The Pinning Arrow caught him in the ribs and blasted him down with enough force to drive the air from his lungs.
At the same time, Kadorax was released from his frozen restraint and landed on the ground with a thud, spinning quickly on his heels. Behind the spell caster, he was already in the perfect position, and all it took was a single horizontal stroke to sever the jackal’s left leg from its body. The creature collapsed to the ground, and Kadorax finished it quickly, sinking his sword through the caster’s hairy throat.
Syzak grunted in pain on the stone floor. His tongue flickered out rapidly over his lips, and his eyes had rolled back in their serpentine sockets. Slowly, Brinna struggled to regain her feet. Her back and chest were both soaked in magical ice, and her upper arms had been singed as well.
“Can you heal yourself, Syzak?” Kadorax asked, dropping to his knees next to his badly wounded companion. His own gut, along with all the muscles of his legs, neck, and back, throbbed with pain. Somewhere behind the altar, he thought he heard another jackal coming to join the fight.
Painfully, Syzak reached a hand down to his belt and tapped his potion. Kadorax ripped it from its pouch in a hurry, barely pausing to uncork it before pressing the glass to Syzak’s lips. The potion went down smoothly despite the taste. A moment later, Syzak regained a bit of his focus, just enough to cast Cure Minor Ailments on himself. Much to his obvious relief, the combination of the healing potion and the magic was enough to seal up the wound on his side to the point where he could get to his feet and perhaps fight a bit.
The two knights had emerged behind them, one a bit battered and the other looking no worse for the wear. They had their weapons pointed across the chamber, directing Kadorax’s vision. Another jackal wore a backpack, and it was scrambling over a roughshod barricade and into a dark tunnel. The assassins had just killed their final opponent with a deft two-blade strike to its abdomen. They were naturally the most fleet of foot, so they both sprinted across the chamber in pursuit.
Kadorax and the others waited for several long, painful moments before relaxing and returning their weapons to their sheaths. The small temple was empty, and they only had to wait for the assassins to return from chasing down the runner. Slowly, Syzak and Brinna both got to their feet. The knights helped them limp out of the cavern and back into the daylight, where they could rest against the low stone wall.
“I’ll go back in and see if there’s any loot,” Kadorax said, though he wasn’t really sure he trusted leaving his wounded friends in the care of two knights he didn’t know who belonged to an organization he’d never trusted. Still, they were allies, and betraying two wounded allies would besmirch the knights’ honor. If there was anything Kadorax knew for certain about the Priorate Knights, it was that they valued their outmoded concept of honor even more than their own lives.
With a sigh, Kadorax returned to the cavern. The knight’s torch sputtered on the ground, so he grabbed it and lifted it high. The room he was standing in wasn’t very large. A few crates were stacked against one wall, and the other corner was full of straw, an old blanket, and other bits of smelly bedding.
Kadorax rooted through the crates with one hand. They were mostly just filled with straw, but he did manage to find a single short ingot that had the daunting heft and familiar sheen of steel. After he tucked it awkwardly into his pocket, he emerged from the cavern to find his friends still alive.
The distant sounds of combat drifted to their ears from somewhere beyond their vision, deeper in the woods.
The unwounded knight grunted and rose from the wall, starting to draw his sword.
“No,” Kadorax told him, sitting the man back down with a hand to his breastplate. “They’re two against one. They’ll be fine. We need you here more than they need you out there. If any more jackals arrive, we’re easy pickings.” As much as he hated to admit it, Kadorax needed the knights, though they did not need him. In times like those he envied the knights in their heavy steel armor. They were far slower than him, sure, but they didn’t take a beating in every single fight, either.
Ten or so minutes later, the two assassins crested a small hill and came into view. One of them was injured. Kadorax couldn’t tell how bad it was, but judging by the expression on the woman’s face as they neared, it was serious. He went out to meet them, slinging the wounded woman’s arm over his shoulders to help her walk.
“The jackal got away,” the uninjured assassin stated. “There was a trap hidden under the brush. We should have seen it. I should have seen it. Or at least I should have looked…”
Kadorax wanted to offer some words of comfort, but none came to his mind. The woman between them was bleeding mightily from her foot. Her boot was torn and ragged, like a set of powerful jaws had torn through the flesh.
“Do you have any healing left?” the healthy woman asked.
Silently, Kadorax only shook his head.
“She’s going to bleed out. I have bandages, but she needs a tourniquet and magic—an experienced medic at the leas
t.”
They joined the others and propped the bleeding woman against the wall. She was barely conscious.
“There’s… nothing we can really do,” Kadorax said softly.
Neither of the knights were carrying anything more than standard field dressings. Bandaging the garish wound would be little more than a waste of good supplies.
“Wait,” Brinna said quietly, still clutching a burn on her arm. “Here.” She drew the talon dagger from her belt and held it aloft.
“Theft of Life,” Kadorax explained grimly.
Brinna nodded. “Have her stab me with it. It’ll work, right?”
Kadorax took the dagger away from her before she could do anything foolish. “I’m stronger. She can take it from me,” he said.
The healthy knight stepped forward, grim determination on his chiseled face. “Let me bear the burden. Even for an enemy of the priory, offering some of my life is the right thing to do.”
“To know chaos is to understand pain,” Kadorax repeated. He thought of Ligriv, his strange warden awaiting him in the chaos, wherever or whatever that place really was. He pressed the talon dagger into the assassin’s hand, then guided the blade up to the outside of his thigh where he figured he could sustain the most damage before being seriously maimed.
“Are you s—”
Kadorax drove the blade in, instantly letting go of the assassin’s hand at the same time.
Bond: 7 flashed before Kadorax’s eyes. A moment later, another message appeared. Encroaching Insanity: Rank 2, it said.
He blinked, and the world was different. His body didn’t hurt any longer; his muscles didn’t ache.
“Chaos,” Kadorax whispered.
“Very astute,” Ligriv said, stepping out from nothing to materialize before him. The trees and other features of the forest began to take shape within Kadorax’s vision, but they were all cloaked in some sort of metallic, shimmering silver that shifted and danced depending on how he looked at it.
“To know chaos is to understand pain,” he said flatly. “I suppose I’m here to recover, right?”
Ligriv seemed pleased. “Perceptive indeed.” The shadowy, inscrutable figure paced back and forth for a few moments. “The assassin, Jaris is her name—she took a lot from you. She will live.”
“And I’m here for my reward for such a noble deed?” Kadorax jested. He didn’t think of chaos as a place where rewards were frequently bestowed upon anyone, noble or otherwise.
The shifting humanoid laughed. “No, I have never favored nobility over any other trait. If that is a path you seek, well, you’re already acquainted with the Priorate Knights, correct?”
“So is this just a day spa? Do you have a few healers lined up to stitch these wounds?” Kadorax asked.
“Not exactly,” Ligriv answered. “Though you will recover at least modestly. While the mind has fled the body, the body is not hindered by the mind, and therefore it can heal much quicker. But no, the purpose of your visit is the same purpose as all bastions who visit here. You’ve learned more of pain, and so you now learn more of chaos.”
Kadorax tried to parse some logical meaning from the being’s words, but ended up only shrugging. “So you’re rewarding me for experiencing a ton of pain, even though I basically brought it on myself?”
Ligriv nodded, and a dark, nefarious smile spread across his entire face.
“Damn,” Kadorax said with a sigh. “I can see how bastions go insane. That’s pretty messed up.”
“Knowledge and understanding are two of the gifts begotten of pain, bastion,” Ligriv went on. “Now you may reap the rewards.”
The strange guide held out both his palms, and a small ring sat on each. The black band on the left held a square emerald, while the silver band on the right glimmered with a sapphire stone in the shape of a teardrop.
“What are they?” Kadorax asked. He could feel the world slipping away as he spoke. Reality was blending back into focus faster than he could think to try and make it stop.
He focused on the rings, but all that would display were their names:
Radiant Band
Chasm Star
Ligriv’s hand was starting to fade from view. Kadorax could see a bit of the sky shining through his translucent palm, completely out of place.
“I’ll probably regret my choice either way,” he grumbled. As chaos fully slipped from his conscious awareness, he swiped his fingers through Ligriv’s right palm and snatched away the ring.
His eyes fluttered open, and then his chest blossomed in pain, his soul rod the epicenter. He was rocking back and forth and at first, the motion made him think he was somehow back aboard the Grim Sleeper in one of the hammocks below deck. But he smelled the familiar scents of the forest lingering beneath the scent of his blood. When he was finally able to focus, he saw that he was being carried on a stretcher by the two knights.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You’re awake!” Brinna said before either of the knights answered.
Kadorax rubbed his head. There was a headache brewing right behind his eyes. “How long was I out?” Slowly, painfully slowly, the memory of offering the assassin the chance to steal his life force came back.
“Only thirty minutes, maybe less,” the woman responded. “But… you lost a lot of blood. You shouldn’t be awake yet. Not for a day at least.”
“Yeah, let’s just say I used a class-specific ability,” Kadorax said. If it weren’t for his headache, he knew he would be able to stand and walk on his own. For whatever reason, being in the chaos had healed him almost completely. He lifted his hands to rub his eyes once more, and there he saw the ring he had taken firmly around the middle finger on his left hand. As an assassin, he had never worn rings for fear of them clicking against the hilt of his weapon and giving him away.
Back in Agglor, he could finally read the entire description:
Radiant Band - Grants the wearer low-light vision, +1 Spirit, and heightens the effects of Encroaching Insanity. Cannot be removed. Passive while worn.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Kadorax said under his breath. He let the knights carry him all the way back to the camp as his headache slowly retreated into the recesses of his mind. The two men didn’t say much between them, and they didn’t complain about carrying Kadorax’s weight, either. At the back of the little train of adventurers, the assassin who had stolen some of his life was still limping, helped along by her fellow Blackened Blade.
Elise met them at the headquarters. A woman Kadorax assumed to be the prior from Skarm’s Reif was with her. He could stand, but his feet were wobbly.
“The temple was eradicated?” Elise asked, foregoing any semblance of decorum or introduction.
The prior was a bit nicer. “You’re injured,” she said, pulling one of the knights to the side and inspecting his armor. She laid her hands on the wound, silently mouthed a few words, and a wave of healing magic washed over the man at once.
“One of them got away, my lady,” the higher-level assassin said. Her eyes stayed focused on the ground.
Elise let out a sigh. “The last time one of the jackals was allowed to flee from a temple, they retaliated. We can expect another such attack.” She turned to the prior with a scowl on her face. “Prepare the defenses.”
The prior smiled as she bowed. Her billowing tunic of blue and gold fanned out in the wind, revealing the embroidered eagle stitched into the front. “The Priorate Knights will be ready, Elise. We shall defend the northern flank if you and yours will guard the east. It will be like the last time. We’ll push them back into the woods, and none shall fall.”
The leader of the Blackened Blades didn’t share the prior’s penchant for platitudes. “If we mobilize the camp in time, perhaps you will be right,” she stated.
The two women didn’t shake hands before the prior left. There was no love between them, barely even respect, and Elise’s expression said she kept all that negative emotion pent up inside her like a tightly wound
spring ready to furiously uncoil all at once.
As the quest officially came to a conclusion, experience points flashed in each person’s vision. Kadorax, Syzak, and Brinna all advanced to their next levels. The other four earned a decent chunk of their way toward leveling, but they were already too high for a handful of jackals to earn them a new talent.
For Syzak, the decision was easy. He selected Rat Trap: Rank 1, an ability that would summon a nest of venomous rats to attack his enemies should they stray too near.
Brinna chose a passive, Faster Recovery: Rank 1, which let her body heal from wounds quicker when out of combat, as well as replenish her stamina and muscles while still in combat.
Since Kadorax hadn’t used his skills enough to unlock the next ranks of any of them, he was presented with three new options:
Sealed Doom (Fate 20): Rank 1 - The bastion may react to an incoming attack, forming a magical bond with the enemy. Upon being hit, part of the force of the attack is shared with the target as though they were hit as well. At higher ranks, the bastion may transfer all of a single attack. Duration: 20 seconds. Cooldown: 1 day. Effect: Moderate.
Chaos Step: Rank 1 - After a 1 second charge time, the bastion steps into the chaos and reemerges somewhere else. May cause the user to experience disturbing images upon reentry into reality. Range: 10 feet. Cooldown: 1 day.
Sleight of Hand: Rank 1 - Hiding objects comes naturally to one possessed by chaos. The bastion can use misdirection and minor sleights to conceal small objects from view. Higher ranks allow more complex sleights and for larger, louder objects to also be hidden. Passive.
Sealed Doom, Kadorax knew, was likely the smartest choice. Being able to transfer incoming damage to an enemy would be wildly useful and help keep him alive, but he also knew the dramatic advantages afforded by any talent that was similar to teleportation. His assassin build had used Dark Jaunt pretty frequently, allowing him to shift through thin walls and other objects as long as he knew the other side was safe. He couldn’t remember exactly how many times that ability had saved his life or allowed him to complete a contract without being seen.
Killstreak Book One Page 17