<“I don’t mean to rush you two,”> Elora said, <“but there’s something coming this way and it doesn’t look friendly. If you can’t get to me, then do me a favor, okay?”>
<“We are not far,”> Ashera said, her voice thick and husky. <“We will get to you.”>
Elora shook her head. No, you won’t. I’m so sorry, Ashera. I know this will be hardest on you. She thought she steeled herself for what was to come. But when she spoke again, her voice was as unsteady as a child’s.
<“Just in case, I want you to check on the Gone Goose when you get out if I can’t. Take my share of whatever money we get and if Giel has any surviving family, give it to them. I wanted to find a way to repay his sacrifice, a memorial o-or something but I’m no good with that. If you could… I would be grateful. The same goes for you, Hal.”>
<“We’re coming, Elora. Hold on.”> Hal said, his voice resolute and sure.
She found herself feeling sorry for the man. There was no way he could get to her. The shadowy monsters came on in a thick pack, smaller Shadow Crawlers flanking the bigger Shadow Predators.
Mira looked at Elora. “You weren’t joking, huh?”
As if to answer the elf, Elora let fly an arrow into one of the Shadow Crawlers that had gotten a little too close. The Shadow Predator looked over at its minion but hardly seemed to care.
“Have it your way,” Mira said. Instead of pulling out a backup weapon - as Elora suspected she would have - she raised her arms up. Elbows bent at a ninety-degree angle, her palms in front of her face.
Mira began to chant. Not a prayer, Elora realized but magic. It was the incantation to a spell. One, the Dragoon had never used before. Not even when she was most certainly going to die.
Her fingers worked in complex patterns, shifting and flowing in a complex dance. Elora had never seen its like before.
Green vines began to crack through the stone around them and rise up in complex triple helices. They wrapped around the shadow creatures, creating twisting cages for them and thick brambles that they had to crawl through.
Try as they might, they couldn’t simply phase through those thorny vines. Just as Elora was appreciating Mira’s spellwork, the Elf began to sag. The effort clearly took a lot out of her.
What MP she had vanished, and with it a considerable chunk of her HP as blood payment for the lack of MP. Elora hooked an arm around her and held her upright while she shouldered her bow.
Dipping her shoulder, Elora shifted the much heavier and longer woman in a shoulder carry. It was the only way she could hold onto her. “We’ll talk about your magic when you’re awake and well,” Elora promised the unconscious Dragoon… or whatever she was.
That certainly looked like Druidic magic. Magic that hadn’t been seen in Aldim for centuries.
Elora pushed those thoughts from her head, summoned Windwalk with the last of her MP and pressed on toward Hal and Ashera. They were getting close she could tell and maybe, just maybe, Mira’s spell had slowed their pursuit long enough to rejoin with the others.
Even then, Elora didn’t like their odds. Hal had some useful magic, but he was still a Novice. As strong as she knew Ashera was, Elora found herself hoping they had an exit strategy ready to go. Her heart lifted a little when she saw the dark tunnel ahead.
It didn’t provide much, but the tighter twisting tunnel beyond would at least even the odds in their favor. Only so many of the outnumbering creatures could get in at a time.
* * *
Shocked but undaunted, Hal strode up to the wall. He felt around it, looking for any hidden activator or seams that might hint at a doorway. He was certain Elora was just beyond the wall.
<“I’ve made it to a cramped tunnel now with Mira. She’s unconscious. I do not see a way to get to you. It’s just solid stone,”> Elora said, a thread of worry in her voice.
<“We’re on the other side of a wall, a dead end. Do you see a switch or anything?”> He knew there wouldn’t be but he had to hope.
This couldn’t be how it ended for Elora. He wouldn’t let it.
Hal didn’t like the expression on the Sin Keeper’s face as she came to join him. Noth floated imperiously above them, detached and aloof once more.
Even if he commanded all his Wortlings to try and dig through the smooth, worked stone he doubted they would make much progress.
Not in time, at least.
<“There’s nothing here.”> She sounded resigned. It was one of the only times Hal could remember when the Ranger’s fiery personality seemed doused.
He couldn’t stand to lose anybody else. He was a failure. He hadn’t kept his friends safe. Would Giel have been alive if he tried to climb out of the pit instead of press on? He didn’t even try.
And instead of joining his friends as soon as humanly possible, he screwed around in an underground nature reserve. Giel’s death was on his shoulders. He could have come to their aid sooner.
Even if he wasn’t strong enough to help, Ashera certainly was. If she was there, Giel would have survived. The guilt and the anger welled up inside his chest and yearned for release.
He feared he was about to add to that weight of guilt. Elora and Mira were just a few feet away. And he was powerless to help her.
As one group, the Wortlings took several steps back.
<“Move back from the wall,”> Hal said, a rare bit of steel creeping into his voice. One or another, he was getting through that wall.
He meant it only for Elora but realized that it would be prudent for Ashera as well.
The Sin Keeper backed up in line with the Wortlings. “What are you going to do, Hal?”
“Whatever it takes,” he said. “Noth, can you get through this wall?”
Like all the other walls, there were faint silver traceries all over the smooth walls. And just like the other walls, Noth was incapable of passing through them.
Though for Hal, she tried once more.
Hal expected the shake of her head, knew in his heart that the Founder would have protected against creatures phasing through the stone. But would he have protected the stone against brute force from the inside?
If this was meant to house an army of loyal subjects, there was still a chance he could get to Elora and Mira.
Hoping against hope that this would work, Hal summoned his latest spell, Drill Branch.
Corkscrewing branches formed a drill as wide at the base as he was tall, narrowing into a spiral tip a foot out. The spell levitated just ahead of him. He pressed its narrow tip to the stone and began to channel the spell, feeding it a constant stream of MP. The branches spun in a blurring clockwise rotation.
At first, the spell rebounded off the stone with a flash of light and a powerful wave of energy that forced Hal to skid back several feet. Hal nearly lost his concentration on the spell. A pair of Wortlings came up to brace his back and Hal pressed forward again.
As the spell’s anchor point, Hal leaned into the magic of the spinning drill with as much force as he could muster. The wall flashed and tried to reject the spell but with the aid of the Wortlings, Hal was able to keep the spell grinding away at the stone.
More of his Wortlings came to his aid, each of them bracing the other. And, in turn, bracing Hal and his spell.
His MP steadily drained. At the current rate, he could maintain the spell for nearly a minute. Any longer and he would have to begin pulling from the Wortlings.
He would sacrifice them all. Draining every last drop of their HP if it meant he could get to Elora and Mira in time.
Even with all his will bent toward the spell, the going was slow. His arms began to ache with the effort of keeping the spell tethered.
A fist-sized hole was all he had to show for his efforts so far.
With his MP nearly emptied, he used Assimilation to tap his SP. But that didn’t buy him much more time. And the effects were unpleasant.
With labored breath, Hal tapped one of the injured Wortlings. Steadily draining its SP and MP to replenish hi
s MP.
As his SP recovered a little and he was able to think clearly, he realized even if he drained the two wounded Wortlings until they were no more, that would only grant him a couple of minutes extra.
Their SP and MP pools paled in comparison to their inflated temp HP but every little bit would help.
Hal still didn’t want to destroy one of the creatures. But if it came down to saving his friends or sacrificing every last Wortling, he would do it with a clear conscience. With the Wortling Saplings he now possessed, he could grow his own Worttree.
Not that his sole reasoning was pragmatic. It also felt wrong to abuse something under his control. But he knew, on a rational level at least, that they were unthinking and unfeeling creatures. Controlling them was no different than controlling a machine.
The seconds rolled by and he gained precious inches. His Wortlings continued to brace him as he moved forward, inch by inch.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his Strain bar filling up. What Strain he gained from fighting never seemed to linger for very long afterward.
And though Drill Branch claimed a Strain of 2, it didn’t seem to incur the cost every second. If it did, he would have capped out a long time ago. As it was, he was hovering around 12 Strain. Nearly half.
Another inch, and another point of Strain. Once it raised past 12, Hal felt something shift inside him, a faint twisting sensation.
Strain Affliction Lv.1 (Taxed).
You have taxed your body beyond normal limitations. Channeling Beast Magic has its costs and each use of the magic warps your body in new and unforeseen ways. Using Beast Magic beyond this point risks more than your health.
Beast Magic Efficacy +20% | Beast Magic Damage +20%.
MP Cost +10% | Strain Accumulation +15%.
The branches grew thicker and spun faster and faster. Sparks flew from the magical warding on the wall but debris and rock began to fall away at a steady rate. Hairline fractures spiderwebbed out from the point of the drilling and grew thicker, forming fissures.
Hal could feel the burst of strength coursing through his veins. It was frightening and euphoric all at once. He needed more.
Focusing on the weakest Wortling, he pulled its HP into his MP with Assimilation.
Ashera, catching on to what Hal was doing began casting Cure on the Wortlings that was beginning to look ragged and withered from his draining.
Her face lit up like she just discovered a new spell. “It worked!” she cried. Seeing that Hal was too preoccupied to respond, she added, “I did not know if curing a monster would do anything. Healing magic usually only works on humanoids. I have… never tried before admittedly.”
Propped up by her spells, Hal continued his drilling.
He grit his teeth as another prompt rolled by as his Strain hit 20 and he felt a surge of unbridled rage wash his vision in red. Virulent streams of blue and red-streaked mana rolled off his body, encircled his arms. Empowering his spell.
Strain Affliction Lv.2 (Savage).
Most mortals would have fallen at this point. Few Chimera Knights even reach this pinnacle of savagery. But a Beastborne thrives on the knife’s edge of destruction. It is there that they find both greatness and despair.
Beast Magic Efficacy +60% | Beast Magic Damage +60%.
Essence Tier +1.
Max HP +10% | Max MP +10%.
MP Cost +15% | Strain Accumulation +25%.
Essence Tier plus one? Hal wondered.
Pressing forward, Hal soon had his answer. While his shadow-limbs were certainly useful, they were relatively weak. They could hold him aloft, even holding Ashera at the same time. But they were not powerful in any way.
They certainly were not capable of digging into stone as hard as metal like that around him. But as he bent all of his will toward breaking through the wall and to his friends beyond, he noticed the Wortlings were no longer holding him.
At some point, he stopped giving them a mental command to brace him without realizing it.
Looking over his shoulder, he could see how they stood there like silent carved statues. His shadow-limbs, on the other hand, were anchored into the hardened stone walls and floor.
Hal commanded the creatures to begin digging through the collapsing rubble of the hole he was making. The wall was breaking. Cracking with massive fractures that loosed whole chunks of the silver-engraved stone.
Each time one piece fell, it was promptly cleared away. His control, however, was slipping. It took an increasingly greater amount of his attention to prevent the spell from going wild and destroying the nearby Wortlings.
It wanted to damage everything around it. The magic wanted to be free.
Even with Ashera’s metered healing, one of the Wortlings faltered for a moment and then crumbled to ash. It simply was not enough to keep them at full health. Not if she also expected to heal their friends on the other side of the wall.
A surge of green light washed over him. And then another shortly after as the second creature fell.
You absorb 45 Treant Essence.
You absorb 45 Treant Essence.
A snarl clawed its way out of his mouth. With a final roar of power, the wall cracked and split with a mighty clap that echoed in the air. Hal’s ears popped from the sudden rush of air as the two spaces equalized their pressure.
But he couldn’t let go of the spell. It pushed forward without his prompting and he wrestled for control. The Wortlings darted out of the way at his command. It took everything he had simply to reign in the spell.
<“I can see light!”> Elora said. <“By the gods, is Hal doing that?”>
Neither Ashera nor Hal seemed able to answer. The Sin Keeper looked with more than a little concern at Hal. The Reaper above watched with great interest, which swiftly turned to mounting horror.
He felt himself slipping. Falling into a dark pit within himself. His fingers clawed at the smooth sloped sides and the scene before him stretched farther and farther away.
The wall was breached. But he was still pushing the spell forward with explosive power.
Strain Affliction Lv.3 (Feral).
More Beast than Man, your magic has warped your mind until you no longer recognize friend from foe and your body is no longer your own to command.
Irreparable harm will befall you if you fail to reclaim your magic and your body. Once your Strain Affliction increases to Level 5, you will become a vile aberration. An unthinking, violent force more akin to natural disaster than any living thing.
Beast Magic Efficacy +150% | Beast Magic Damage +150%.
Essence Tier +1 | Beast Magic Tier +1.
Max HP +25% | Max MP +25%.
HP Regen: +25% | MP Regen +25%.
MP Cost -15% | Strain Accumulation +50%.
Unlocked Ability: Essence Siphon
Leech the essential life force of a creature, drawing out its Essence in its purest form.
Unlocked Ability: Diffusion
Expend Strain to empower attacks and spells.
New Quest: The Beast Within.
You have awoken a monster within that has claimed control of your mind, body, and soon, your soul. If you do not reassert control, you will change into an abomination the likes of which even a Shoggoth would fear. This is the first true test of any Beastborne. Reclaim yourself.
Objectives:
Reclaim your mind and body before hitting Strain Affliction Lv.5.
Rewards:
Maximum Strain Increase.
Beast Magic Skill Increase.
Hal watched as the wild magic controlling his body ravaged the stone. The remainder of the drilling was done in seconds.
Ashera gasped as Hal let go of the spell and rushed into the hole, no longer in control of his own body. He could sense a predator about. Brown eyes turned a hellish red regarded Elora and the slumped form of Mira now covered in rock dust.
They were weak, near death. No sport there. It would be easy to kill them and therefore, not worth his time. Not now. Th
ere was bigger game afoot.
Hal’s shadow-limbs were no longer made of insubstantial wispy shade. They were darkness made material. Impassable and hard as steel.
Rolling coronas of red and blue Beast Magic essence rose off his body as he barreled down the tunnel. The [Goblinbane] cleared its sheath and he turned a deaf ear to the shouts of the friends he so desperately wanted to save.
He did save them, Hal realized, sitting in that mental prison. No more of his friends would die because of his weakness and mistakes.
But who would save him?
67
The Beast that now controlled Hal’s body could sense the predators ahead at the mouth of the winding tunnel. The wounded, half-dead women it passed were no threat. The Beast wanted nothing more than to test itself against the best predators.
To prove itself the stronger.
Sitting backseat to the thing driving his body, Hal understood that this was a part of him. Some dark reflection of who he was. It wasn’t a possession.
It was a coup.
He knew, too, that the hole he found himself in wasn’t real. It was a mental construct of some sort, likely the Beast’s. Simple, yet effective. There were no bars the twenty or so feet above him. And at all times Hal could tap into his body’s senses.
The only thing that he could not do, was control himself. But he did have ringside seats to the show the Beast was putting on.
Small concessions, Hal thought bitterly.
Bounding through the cavern, the Beast emerged from a bend and barreled straight into the waiting Shadow Predator.
The creature’s surprise was complete when it saw the red-glowing eyes and the red-and-blue streaked mana that rolled off the Beast’s frame. This was not the prey it thought it had cornered.
Beastborne- Mark of the Founder Page 57