Spectres & Skin: Exodus

by RJ Creed

  Excision

  Superb Quality

  Attack: +8

  Dexterity: +3

  +2 DPS — Bleeding

  Req: Dexterity 12

  It was a damn good dagger. Double the damage of mine, and it looked like it added some Damage Per Second by causing the target to bleed profusely. It sounded brutal. It sounded intense.

  I had to have it.

  I snatched it up and instantly levelled up to 2 in Thievery, already. I sheathed it, relishing the sound and feel of such a perfect fit, and then carefully hid it under everything else in my pack, swallowed and allowed myself to let out a breath. Now that that was out of the way, I turned around and tried to pry open the grate to the sewers, but succeeded only in getting my fingers grimy. I nodded silently for Moro to come help me, wondering if the new spell would help me in pushing the grate open so I could slide through.

  She curved her body again in that silent, chilling howl and the grate I was yanking on came loose in my hands and I pushed it up and slid my legs in, grimacing at what was to come.

  I also noticed that a blue bar had appeared near the top of my vision, and it was showing under 50% altogether. The spell was draining a lot from her. I figured that was because my Intelligence could do with a serious increase, and probably Spectral Magic too.

  “C’mon,” I whispered, even though she was able to phase through solid objects. She hopped obediently through the gap beside me and I lowered myself as far as I could before I said my first ever prayer to Titania and let go with my fingertips.

  The grate clattered shut above me and I landed seven or eight feet below in ankle-deep, stinking water.

  My HP had appeared again, with about 10% shaved off, which wasn’t ideal. I took a couple of deep breaths before the smell made me lightheaded and I pressed my forearm to my nose, picked a random direction in the hope that I would find a way to pop back out onto the street, and began to jog.

  My theory was that jogging would minimise the time I spent in the stink — did the programmers really have to add all this stuff in? — but in reality it just meant I was pulling in more air until finally I was beginning to gag with every breath.

  I was forced off the main wet tunnel and onto a side tunnel without ankle-deep water, hoping that the lack of liquid would allow me to breathe a little better. It did, but I was now definitely lost. I had been walking for ten minutes without direction down winding, twisting tunnels and there was no way of knowing which direction I had even begun to walk in, I was so turned around.

  I thought back to the quartz in my bag and had to wonder if there was a Map spell, but thought better of that after some indecision. I had limited gems on me, and I didn’t know how many Moro was even able to learn.

  Looking at her out of the corner of my eye I could see her eyes seemed brighter and full of life, and she was striding alongside me with something of a spring in her step. I didn’t think it was my imagination — did spectres love to feel useful, or did they love to feel more powerful? It didn’t particularly matter to me which it was, but I liked the idea of keeping the ghost happy if I could.

  After my third dead end, I was forced to turn and circle back, now dragging my feet along the stone floor and staring up at the top of the tunnel. There was streaming daylight coming from various grates — luckily none of them right above me as I walked, or I may have received some strange dropped items or liquids on my head — and from that and the ever-present glow of my spectre, I could see quite well.

  Which was why I was concerned when I finally noticed four pairs of yellow eyes on me, because I hadn’t seen them until now.

  Rats. In a sewer. Of course. Not only had I known full well coming down into here that I was in an RPG, but I had also heard first-hand somebody tell me about their experiences in killing rats in a sewer.

  “Damn it,” I said, my hand going to my side, but nothing moved to attack me. Moro sat close by me, and I thought about how exactly I was going to handle it if they attacked.

  Could I..? Should I..?

  I whipped the pack off my back and pulled out the ornate sheath, sliding Excision into my belt on the other side from my boring unnamed dagger. I thought back to the Dexterity requirement, which I did not meet, but the thing added +3 to my Dex score, so maybe it would still work…

  To test it out I unsheathed it with a satisfying noise and zipped the blade through the air. One side was slightly serrated, and the other was a beautiful curve of sharp steel. The more I looked at it, the more I thought it could perhaps be one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

  Would I fail the quest and ruin my reputation with the White Suns if I kept the thing?

  As I was thinking about it, the dagger suddenly fumbled through my fingers and clattered onto the floor and as I stumbled to quickly snatch it back up, the four owners of the watching eyes chose that moment to scurry from their hiding places in the walls and towards me from my left. I scrambled to snatch up the blade but dropped it again and swore.

  As the first rat reached me I was forced to use my dominant hand to blur from my sheath to the skull before it could clamp its powerful jaws around my shin. Three of the rats were the size of terriers, but the fourth was approaching Great Dane size, which freaked me out a little. I didn’t quite have the time to select the big one and inspect it, because it took me an extra second to use my boot to steady the rat so I could yank my blade from it.

  You have defeated Sewer Rat (Level 2)

  You have gained 15 EXP!

  The second rat reached me in that time, and I managed to twist my body and concentrate hard on a Triple Strike, jabbing it three times in quick succession in the furry pelt. It squealed a piercing noise and then lay still, mouth open.

  You have defeated Sewer Rat (Level 2)

  You have gained 15 EXP!

  I sucked in a breath and dashed backwards a couple of steps to put more space between the last small rat and the big rat, who was squeaking and lumbering towards me, allowing the smaller one to get in a hit while I was concentrating on it. It sank its sharp teeth into the toe of my boot and I howled at the unexpected pain, hopping around. The 10% I had lost from my fall had almost recovered, but now my HP bar was down to 85%. That meant that if I had been overwhelmed by many more of these things and unable to fight them off, I would have gone the way of Gellert all too quickly.

  I could not afford to feel cocky for even a minute in this game. Not until I figured out what had happened to Gellert, and if he was still alive somewhere. And, if not, why not?

  I kicked the small rat hard and sent it sprawling a few feet away from me just as the big rat made its way closer, opening its mouth and clacking its long fangs together. Its bald tail slid across Excision, causing the blade to grind against the stone floor, and I winced, hoping the dagger wouldn’t lose any value. That was not a part of the quest.

  I didn’t have time to sit down and meditate on an attacking spell for Moro — and I kicked myself for not sitting and doing that as soon as I could — and I couldn’t dive to grab the much better weapon, since there were two enemies in the way. My stamina had dipped to 60% of full after just two low-level dagger abilities, and I let out a big sigh.

  This fight was going to be harder than it had any right to be.

  The smaller rat had recovered and was mad, launching at me at full speed. I simply held out the dagger firmly. When it reached me it jumped almost impossibly high and hung off my elbow, and I growled and slashed at it again and again with my weapon until it dropped off, squeaked at me, and then rolled onto its back.

  You have defeated Sewer Rat (Level 2)

  You have gained 15 EXP!

  Where was my level-up? I dashed backwards again, losing 5% of my stamina before I stopped, but barely able to resist a peek at my character sheet. I was at 85%, so just a few more experience points before I hit Level 5.

  The rat was moving slowly, tail finally off of Excision, and it was regarding its fallen brethren with impassive yellow ey
es. It suddenly let out a series of rapid squeaks and then dropped low to the ground and dashed towards me with terrifying speed. Just behind me was a trickling, mossy wall, so I had nowhere to go. I shoved the dagger back into my sheath and then waited.

  Just when it was inches away from me, jaw widened and eyes angry, I blurred my wrist and stuck the blade — which looked tiny compared to the long, jaundiced fangs — into the pink roof its mouth.

  The rat squealed and writhed backwards, and I winced a little at what I was about to do. I leaned back and kicked the hilt of the dagger as hard as I could upwards.

  It burst through the roof of the rat’s mouth and into its skull, and the creature’s eyes rolled up into the back of its head. I was panting, sweating, and feeling on the verge of vomiting. I almost didn’t want to pull the blade back out again but I wasn’t sure that I was going to find another weapon soon enough.

  To my surprise, the rat had a few HP left, even after that. I breathed out hard and tried to think while it clawed its long nails at its own jaws. I had nothing else on me. No spells, no weapons.

  To my right was a small pile of crumbling rocks, and to my left was a small hole in the wall that at any moment other rats could pour out of. The rat made a high-pitched noise and, unable now to close its mouth at all, smashed its head against my gut and winded me. I beat my fists on its head but had little to no effect. I brought up my knee and accidentally smashed it into a sharp fang, succeeding in backing the rat away from my body but also managing to drop my own HP by another 15%. Now my leg was bleeding.

  I took the short second that it wasn’t ramming into me and crouched to snatch up a rock, before hurling it with all my strength at my foe’s face. Its lower fangs cracked and the rat squeaked. I pulled another one from the ground and pitched it harder this time. With a crack, the rat was down. Finally. I gagged at the sight and metallic smell, so intense in such a damp enclosed space.

  Congratulations! Improvised Combat has reached Level 1!

  You have defeated Large Sewer Rat (Level 4)

  You have gained 40 EXP!

  Once I had recovered, I wasted no time. My HP was at 50%, and my stamina was at 40. My mana, or what I assumed was the equivalent, had crept back up to full, but it was useless to me until I got the chance to figure out an offensive spell.

  I yanked the blade, with extreme effort, from the rat’s mouth, and shakily wiped off the blood on its pelt. I sheathed it and then retrieved Excision and clipped it back onto my belt just in case something else came for me. Then I covered my nose as best I could with my forearm and began to run again.

  When I finally came to a ladder I had no idea where I was. I propelled myself up and shoved at the square door above me, panicking for a second when it wouldn’t open until I remembered the only thing my wolf could currently do. After a quick nod at her, she emitted that powerful-feeling silent howl, and when I shoved the door again it lifted and I was able to squeeze through.

  The door shut behind me, but Moro phased through it shortly after me, and after looking around to determine I wasn’t in any danger — I appeared to be surrounded by crates of root vegetables in a dark basement somewhere — I leaned back and panted, recovering my stamina before wrapping my bloody knee and toes in bandages. After a couple of failures, I had some workable bandages and managed to get back onto my feet, wiping sweat from my forehead and figuring out my next move.

  I transferred Excision from my waist to my pack, just in case someone saw me with it, and tried to brush my hair out with my fingers and rub my dirty face on my arm so that I might look less like I had been running around in a sewer.

  Now could have been the perfect time to sit down and meditate on an attacking spell, but before I could consider it, a sour-faced woman clomped down the stairs into the basement, setting a torch into the wall and shouting upwards as she stomped: “I’m doing it, ain’t I? You can piss off an’ all!”

  Then she muttered something to herself before turning around, and finding herself just several feet from my wide-eyed and dirty face.

  We stared at each other for a while, and then she stepped back and yelled, “Gregor! There’s some street rat stealin’ from us down here! Bring the sword!” She pulled a dagger from her apron pocket and brandished it at me, stretching her mouth into a grimace. “You’re gonna regret this! Empty out your pockets. What did you take? Speak!”

  I raised my hands pathetically and shook my head. “I ended up in the sewers, ma’am; this is a misunderstanding. I got lost, came up the first ladder I saw. I have no intention of stealing from you. I have food already … I’m from the Collective.”

  She looked at me carefully as I pulled out my pendant with my thumb, hoping that invoking the rulers of the city might give me some leeway.

  “Look,” I added, because she wasn’t speaking, but she wasn’t attacking me or screaming either. I pointed at Moro, who turned and looked up at the women. “This is a spectre — first one the goddess has granted in thirty years. If I wasn’t law-abiding, would she have given me her power like this?”

  She still looked completely unsure, chewing on her own tongue as she looked me up and down, dagger still out. “I dunno what the ghost means, but I ain’t riskin’ my hide just to gut an Initiate. Go. If I see you down here again I’ll string you up, though. Don’t doubt that.”

  “I don’t, ma’am, thank you,” I said, and slowly made my way past the crates of vegetables and up the stairs to the main floor. The sudden daylight almost burned up my retinas and I blinked hard a couple of times before looking around. I was in a food shop of some kind. That wasn’t too surprising considering what I had seen down the stairs. I saw a stunned-looking very small man, staring right at me from behind the counter.

  The woman shot out of the basement behind me and launched herself at him with a strangled yell, proceeding to swat him with the backs of her hands until he shrieked and fell off his stool.

  She rested her hands on her ample hips. “I told you to come downstairs to deal with a thief, Gregor, and you sat up here on your arse?” she cried. “My mother was right about you, ya shrivelled turd!”

  That was certainly my cue to leave. I ducked out of the shop and wandered around the twisting streets of Dawnspire’s market district for what felt like an hour before I found Roark’s shop. I had been intending to use it to then find Balin’s shop, but I decided to stick my head in here first to touch base.

  “That was quick,” Roark said, clapping his hands together when he turned to see that it was me. “Did he make a scene? I haven’t heard a thing yet. Listen, I think while they’re fighting, I’m going to sneak in and paint the logo of the White Suns on his shop wall so everyone knows who made it happen.” He chuckled. “What do you think? Too much?”

  I shook my head. “Sounds perfect,” I said. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you. This dagger … it’s amazing. I figured if anyone would understand, it’d be a thief. I want to keep it.”

  Roark’s brows scrunched tight together as he looked at me and I wondered if I had said something wrong. “You are telling me that, instead of just walking away with it in your possession?” he checked.

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s in my pack. I want to alter the plan.”

  “How so?”

  “I think it’d work if…” I sighed, hating that I was overcomplicating everything. “I’m going to go back and plant evidence that it was Balin or Ronan who was in the basement, right? Then Hrzog won’t find the dagger. He’ll tear their shops up looking for the thing.”

  Roark’s eyes lit up. “That’s true! He won’t let it go. Then when he goes back to see the White Sun blazing on his wall?” He laughed and clapped. “Everyone will have gathered — they’ll know we’re back for sure.”

  I nodded. “You happy with that?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Balin smokes a certain brand of tobacco all day. Grab a few of his herbs, sprinkle them around the basement before the orc goes to check on Excision. It’ll work.” He nodded.

>   “And I can keep the dagger?”

  “I don’t care what happens to it,” Roark said. “Keep it if you want to.”

  Great. I nodded to him, acknowledging the text that explained to me that the parameters of my quest had changed. I read it over to check that it had said what we had agreed, and I made my way to Balin’s shop.

  My stomach was rumbling now that I didn’t feel so sick, so I pulled the food from my pack and ate it on the way, wiping crumbs from my lips as I pushed my way into Balin’s heavy armour shop.

  “Hello, hello, Initiate!” the man said. I had been expecting someone large and sturdy, like Hrzog, but Balin was so short that I wondered if he was fully human. I nodded at him, noting that he had a pipe resting in his hand.

  “Hello, I’m browsing, if that’s alright,” I said.

  “Browse away,” he said. Even his voice was small and light. He grinned widely at me, and I smiled and turned to look at the well-crafted armour sets on display behind glass. Some of them were really incredible to look at, with spiked shoulders and waists and space for a house crest on the chest. But I decided that I liked the range of movement in leather armour, and I felt protected enough so far.

  Still, though, they were interesting to look at, and wandering around gave me enough time to see where Balin pulled his tobacco from before reapplying it liberally to his pipe.

  I just needed to get him out of here. I checked my sheet quickly and saw that I was at a Charisma of 9(+4) and had a Speech of 3, at a pretty enticing 90% towards level 4. I could surely think of a way to talk him away from his tobacco for just a second. Some kind of genius way to get the guy distracted for a second.

  I paused.

  “Hey,” I said, pointing behind him and leaning over the counter, with my hand draping near the box of tobacco. “The hell is that?”