Barrow King

by C. M. Carney

  “My word,” Gryph muttered in shock. This thing was amazing and insanely dangerous. He placed the second egg into his satchel, sending a silent prayer that the stasis effect contained these seeds of destruction.

  The second air shield blinked, a sure sign that time was up. Gryph knew he'd have to leave the third behind, but there was no way in the nine hells he would leave it alive.

  He flexed his hand on the Ice Dagger and pumped a full charge into it. With a powerful thrust, Gryph plunged the blade into the egg sack. The thing inside the egg screamed in his mind and he winced in pain. He thrust again, and the noise stopped.

  The blinking of the air shield had grown critical and Gryph kicked off from the inside of the wall of solid air and emerged from under the massive body. A moment later the second shield failed and the bulbous corpse collapsed. Gryph smiled to himself, cast Halo of Air again and began a slow, steady swim upwards.

  He was halfway to the surface when the fleshy body of the arboleth shook and rumbled. A second later something lithe and fast shot out from an orifice near the arboleth's rear fin. It turned and darted towards Gryph.

  29

  O vrym sat in meditation, his mind attempting to find ease. It was too late to help the man. All he could do was focus his own mind. The rock of the high shelf dug into him, but he did not feel it. He let his guilt and his fear and his weakness flow over him. Each wave was less toxic.

  Eventually he found peace again. His ancient demons chased back into the dark depths of his soul, for now. He reached out for the aether and spread his thoughts through it.

  Then he felt the elf. Somehow the man was still alive. A shudder of shock and hope flowed through his body. Ovyrm forced himself to focus. “Maybe I can still help,” he thought. He could feel the arboleth's stained and rancid thoughts, focused into a pinprick weapon.

  Ovrym molded his thoughts into a field or warmth and life and hope and settled it down on the drowning man. It wasn’t much, but perhaps it would be enough. Time lost temporary meaning as he became comfort and ease. He pulled his attention away from the battle. He was of no use if he could not remain calm.

  The xydai became warmth and hope and strength flowing into the man. He was only a sprinkle of rain against a raging wildfire, but he was something. Ovrym let himself become one with the aether. He was no longer singular. He was part of the All. Heartbeats passed like centuries, breaths like ages. He was both always and never and still he held to his task.

  Then a pulse of shock and anguish flashed outward, a nova of rage that exploded before collapsing unto itself and disappearing. The arboleth was dead. Ovyrm’s eyes opened in shock.

  He stood and stared down at the water as the last ripples of battle settled to calm. Where was the man? Had he succumbed? Ovrym reached through the water and found the barest pinprick of life distorting the calm of the aether. The man was alive, but drowning. Ovyrm shared his strength, hoping it was enough.

  For a moment, Ovrym feared it was not enough. Then thoughts returned, and the spark became a fire. He stood, waiting to see the man emerge from the depths. Long minutes passed, and he did not surface. What was he doing?

  Ovrym sat again and waited. Whoever this man was he was of an odd character. Was he friend or foe? The shock of the arboleth's presence had so overwhelmed Ovyrm that he had not considered the man's nature. Was he a source of evil or a force for good? He possessed a Godhead. How was that even possible?

  Was he wrong in aiding this latent god? Had his mind been so warped by his hatred and fear of the aetherial abomination that he had overlooked a greater threat? These were the thoughts that raged in Ovrym’s mind as the man finally emerged from the depths.

  He did not look like much, near drowned and so exhausted that he collapsed to his knees the moment he climbed onto the island. He swayed back and forth as he inhaled lungfuls of air. He was shaking. Fear? Adrenaline? Cold? He seemed confused, disoriented.

  Finally, he seemed to gain control over himself as a look of peace came over him. Then he screamed a scream few had ever heard. Ovyrm knew that scream and fear stabbed at his soul. The man gasped and then fell forward onto his face. Ovyrm saw the pulsating slug like creature as it sank spiny tendrils into the back of the man’s head.

  “Illurryth,” Ovrym said in anguish.

  The arboleth larva had infected the elf's brain. Soon it would feed upon it and replace his mind with an aetherial demon sorcerer. The man was dead. Nothing could stop the metamorphosis, the process of consumption that resulted in a sentient being becoming the pure evil of the illurryth. He would be reborn as something else, a malevolence unlike any the Realms had ever seen, an illurryth in possession of a Godhead.

  Before rational thought could stop him, Ovyrm pulled his bow from his shoulder. He nocked an arrow and drew back, focusing both Mana and Stamina into his shot. The arrow burned with the blue aura of thought magic. He closed one eye, and the Stamina flowed into Viper Sting, an Archery perk that increased both damage and the chance to hit.

  "Shall you be reborn at peace," Ovyrm said, putting his heart into the traditional prayer for the soul of the dead. He let fly and his aim was true. The arrow pierced both larva and man at the base of the neck, instantly slaying two minds.

  30

  G ryph swam as his body and mind relaxed. He had survived. He had won. Above him he could see the dim light of the surface. He kicked his legs harder, relishing the thought of feeling fresh air on his face again. Even if fresh was a matter of degree.

  He laughed aloud as his exhalations pushed through the halo to become bubbles of air. He imagined that when they broke the surface, the sound of his laughter would echo around the chamber like they did in the cartoons he watched as a kid.

  The surface was close now and Gryph kicked harder. He was exhausted and wanted to be free of this watery prison. He pumped his arms and legs again, as ease flowing into his mind. Then something punched into the back of his head with a wet thud.

  Waves of pain erupted in his mind and he lost control of his body. Psychic threads of hate, anger and hunger delved into his mind. Part of him was aware of a debuff, but it felt as if it belonged to someone else.

  Debuff: You have been poisoned with Arboleth Larval Toxin. Thought resistance reduced by 80%. Possession: Your body is no longer your own. You are now controlled by an outside influence. 5 minute cool down.

  Gryph filled with terror, but his mind could find no focus. He was an observer. He felt drunk, ecstatic, without a care in the world. As he breached the surface of the water an oily stain of incomprehensible thoughts flowed over him. He tried to focus on them, but they tasted of acid. Through the rancid spiraling a thought came to him. This is for the best. You are becoming greater.

  Inky fingers of wrath oozed from the Other, grasping and tearing at Gryph’s mind. Slowly bits of him were being flayed and consumed. Gryph was becoming something else. He tried to find himself, some core of who he was to cling onto, even if it were for a few moments, but he felt his light dimming. Soon he would be Other.

  What was it doing to him? Fear bit into Gryph and he could feel the alien presence rejoice. Gryph began to disappear. Alien thoughts spread though him, replacing his own. He knew that he should be terrified, but his thoughts were distant as if he were being summoned to a permanent sleep. The Other was consuming all that he was.

  What is fear? the Colonel said from the deepest recesses on his memory. His mind found some measure of calm as the memory of one his father’s earliest lesson came to him. The Colonel despised intellectual sloth and believed in the power of books to expand the mind. He had given Finn a well-worn copy of Frank Herbert’s Dune on his tenth birthday and made him memorize the famous litany against fear.

  He turned his internal gaze to the Other and showed the alien entity what it meant to be a Caldwell. He rushed the Other, fury and purpose beating the infection back into the deepest part of his mind. Somehow he knew he couldn’t exorcise it, but he could lock it away. He sealed the mental priso
n, and the Other howled in rage. It beat itself against the fortifications of Gryph’s mind, slowly chipping away at their protection.

  A spike of pain exploded into the back of his head and a terrible scream erupted from his throat. It was both his own voice and the Other’s. His body pitched forward, but his mind departed before the body hit the ground. An arrow pierced both the larva and brain stem and the distant part of him that still existed sped down the tunnel of light.

  As Gryph’s lifeless body hit the sand of the island a distant voice spoke.

  Thank You.

  31

  Gryph's mind returned with an explosion of shock and pain. He hit the ground hard, his lungs exploding. "Not again." Gryph thought as he struggled for breath. Agony throbbed through him as he assessed the damage. He was hurt, but alive. What was happening?

  Debuffs blinked in his vision.

  Debuff added: You have died and respawned.

  All attributes reduced by 25% for two hours.

  Debuff added: Short term paralysis. Cooldown: 2 minutes.

  Died? Gryph's mind surged with panic. Respawned? What the hell is going on?

  He looked around and realized he was in the small cave where he'd killed the barrow rat. He was back where he'd started. His mind struggled to remember what happened. The last thing he remembered was the Other and the pain. He reached for his neck, but could not move.

  Fucking debuffs, Gryph thought. Is that thing still on me? Fear threatened to drag him back into the darkness of the lake, into the maw of the arboleth. His memory of the Other surged back. Fear crawled into him again and he sought a safe harbor for his mind.

  As if answering a prayer, a gold prompt unlike any he'd yet seen called to him. With nothing else to do while he waited for the paralysis to wear off, Gryph tapped the prompt with a mental flick.

  A Godhead is a mote of creation. It is a nexus of ultimate potential, but that potential must be earned. You have survived a Legendary Trial and slain a Legendary Beast (Arboleth). Your Godhead has evolved to Tier 1. There are 10 Tiers that can only be achieved by completing Legendary Trials. Each Tier will provide 1 Divine Perk Point and Tier specific bonuses.

  Congratulations, your Godhead has evolved to Tier 1.

  The nascent mote of creation inside you has awakened.

  You now have 100% Affinity for all spheres of magic.

  You are awarded +50 to Health, +50 to Stamina, +50 to Mana and +50 to Spirit.

  You are also granted +5 to all attributes.

  All skills (including those learned in the next 24 hours) are increased by one level.

  You now have access to the Divine Perk Tree.

  +1 Divine Perk Points.

  You have chosen to worship the Deity Gryph and have unlocked the Incantations associated with your deity. As long as you stay true to the tenets of belief set down by Gryph you will keep access to your Incantations.

  Gryph - Level 10

  High Elf (El’Edryn)

  Deity: Gryph

  Experience: 116,310

  Next Level: 43,490

  Stats

  Health: 234

  Stamina: 233

  Mana: 218

  Spirit: 186

  Attributes

  Strength: 28

  Constitution: 37

  Dexterity: 37

  Intelligence: 30

  Wisdom: 15

  Gifts

  Health Regeneration: +25%

  Mana Regeneration: +25%

  Night Vision: 120 ft.

  Master of Tongues

  “Holy Crap.” The Godhead had just given him an incredible surge in power. Not only was the +5 bonus to each attribute like getting an instant six levels, the +50 bonus to all four Stats was insane. And 100% Affinity for every sphere of magic. His body surged with power and warmth. What the hell are incantations? Gryph wondered. He suspected that they made use of Spirit, but he had no idea where or how to acquire them.

  Gryph turned his focus to the Divine Perk Points. If he understood the prompts then they were exponentially more valuable than normal Perk Points. He could acquire a maximum of 10, so he would have to spend them wisely. In his excitement Gryph had forgotten about the paralysis debuff until he received the prompt telling him he was no longer paralyzed. He reached a tentative finger up to the back of his neck and found nothing. No parasitic slug, no wound, no scar, nothing.

  Gryph sat cross-legged and laughed out loud. He could barely contain his excitement and joy as he opened his Divine Perk Tree.

  Divine Perk Tree

  1

  Inspire

  Imbue

  Assimilation

  Resurrect

  2

  Devotion

  Consecrate

  Sequester

  Reincarnate

  3

  Transcend

  Divine Crafting

  Illuminate

  Apotheosis

  Well that’s annoying. He’d made educated choices based upon an understanding of available factors. Without full knowledge of the downstream perks, how could he make a wise choice? Guess it is time to have faith, Gryph thought, fully understanding the irony of the statement.

  More frustrating was that each level required more Divine Perk Points. Level one needed one. Level two required two. Level three required three. That meant that even if he maxed out the Godhead, he still wouldn’t be able to acquire every perk on the Divine Perk Tree. He would have to choose wisely.

  Inspire: This perk enables the god to Inspire his followers. Once a day the bearer of a Godhead may Inspire all of his followers. Followers are defined as those who worship a god by selecting them as their deity.

  Imbue: This perk enables the god to empower the weapon of a follower with incredible power. Once a day the god can imbue an item, temporarily turning it into an artifact level magical item for 24 hours. The bearer of the artifact must be a follower of the god.

  Assimilation: Once a week, a god can Assimilate a skill from a defeated opponent. The skill becomes a permanent part of the god’s skill set. The level gained is equal to ⅓ of the opponents skill level. For example. If the bearer of a Godhead defeats a wizard with level 60 in Fire Magic, he will reach level 20 in fire magic.

  Resurrect: Once a week a god can return a fallen follower to life for a single day.

  The perks were amazing. Each one was vastly more powerful than any other power he currently possessed. But which one to pick?

  Inspire sounded amazing although Gryph was still seriously uncomfortable about the idea of being a 'god.' The whole concept went against his personal philosophy of self determination and personal responsibility. He was enough a student of Earth’s history to know how easily religious beliefs could be twisted to zealotry.

  Imbue also sounded badass. He wasn’t sure what an artifact was, but he imagined it was a vastly powerful magic item. Would he be like the Lady in the Lake, gifting Excalibur to Arthur? He didn’t have an Arthur at this point. He didn’t even have a friend, much less a sidekick.

  Assimilation appealed to him. Gryph knew in this world, knowledge was power. If he could take knowledge from his enemies and use it for his own purposes, he could increase his chances of saving Brynn.

  Resurrect made him uncomfortable. Gryph had long ago abandoned any religious beliefs, but a Catholic woman who hadn’t been much of a Catholic had raised him. Despite this, he felt raising the dead skirted into the realm of blasphemy.

  Gryph thought about the perks for a moment. He’d always believed that true power came from the intelligent application of knowledge, thus gaining more knowledge would make him more powerful. Plus he didn’t currently have any followers and wasn’t sure he wanted to be worshipped as a god. This made Assimilation the obvious choice.

  He clicked onto the perk and spent his Divine Perk Point. He expected some massive rush of energy or warmth, but he got nothing. Guess he’d just have to wait until he could use the perk.

  He closed out his sheets and stood. He’d pl
ayed around enough. It was time to figure out a way out of this dungeon. Gryph triggered the secret door and walked into the outer room. There he found a dusky skinned man pointing an arrow at him. The man’s deep red eyes widened, and he pulled the bowstring taught.

  Gryph felt a tingle in his head as the man’s eyed bored into him. Gryph raised his hands and stood still. The last thing he needed after his day was to be robbed by some strange elf. Gryph used Analyze on the man and got a most unusual prompt as a reward.

  Analyze blocked.

  “Don’t waste your time. You are not capable of analyzing me.”

  Gryph's eyes widened. Not only was the stranger right, but the man knew he was right. His mind scrambled through available options. “Who are you?”

  “How are you still alive?”

  “What do you mean?” Gryph asked, his eyes drawn to the man’s bow. Realization hit Gryph like another arrow. “You killed me.”

  A moment of shock widened the strange elf’s eyes, before his incredible control dampened the surprise. Gryph knew he was right.

  “You did. Did you know that I would respawn?”

  Another flash of surprise. The man’s confidence wavered.

  “You didn’t, but you did it anyway.” Gryph raised his hands up higher and pumped Mana into his ring. Somehow the man knew what he was planning and released the arrow.

  The Air Shield was a split second too late, but Gryph had already initiated Dodge. The arrow sliced his cheek as it zipped past his face, siphoning a few points from his Health, but otherwise doing no harm.