Twilight Templar (The Eternal Journey Book 1)

Twilight Templar (The Eternal Journey Book 1) Page 4

by C. J. Carella

  So, they are dead, but they are stirring? It took him a moment to get it. Oh, crap.

 

  This was not going to be his lucky day.

  Six

  Saturnyx said in a reassuring voice as Hawke heard the bugs. A series of clicks came from further down the tunnel; in a matter of seconds, the sounds multiplied and became a rumbling sound like some sort of machinery coming to life.

  “Fuu….” Hawke said.

  He couldn’t go back. If the undead bugs caught him in a narrow section, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Better to meet them where he had some room to maneuver.

  How big are they?

  Before the talking sword could answer, the first of the critters skittered into view.

  Undead Cave Scarab

  Level 1 Beast (Tiny)

  Health 6 Mana 3 Endurance 16

  The bug was about as long as a shoe, a squat armored shape with six legs and a nasty-looking set of mandibles. It paused for a moment and then came straight at him as another half dozen showed up. Ugh. Hawke had met his share of nasty bugs; doing plumbing in dank basements put him in contact with a variety of vermin. The things rushing at him were on a whole new level, though.

  He stepped on the first one and felt it crunch under his boot, but when he lifted his foot the sumbitch kept going and bit his ankle. He took one point of damage.

  “Gah!”

  He slashed at his own leg. Luck was with him and the sword’s edge crunched into the bug and didn’t chop his ankle off. The Undead mini-monster dropped away in two pieces, but six of its buddies arrived a moment later and he could hear more of them coming his way.

  Saturnyx shouted in his head.

  “Kinda busy here!” Hawke replied. He speared one of the bugs with his sword point, killing it, but another jumped on his outstretched arm and began chewing on it. Two more points of damage, and it hurt like blazes. He used his shield to scrape it off of him, taking another point of damage for his troubles. By then he was surrounded by the damn things. There were dozens of them, biting at his ankles or leaping onto his legs. He was dead.

 

  Maybe the talking sword had a point. He started mouthing the words of the spell while he tried to shake off the bugs. The first thing he realized was that casting a spell while taking damage was a lot tougher than normal. He kept stumbling on the words as the scarabs pecked away at him. They couldn’t pierce his breast plate, and the leggings kept most of their bites from reaching his skin and flesh, but his arms were protected only by his woolen shirt and blood started to flow from half a dozen wounds. One leaped at his face; he batted it away with his shield, losing another precious second of casting. A glance at his status bar told him he’d lost over half of his Health. It felt like he was being fed into a woodchipper feet first.

 

  Not helping! Hawke thought as he yelled the last word of the spell. His Health pool was down to its last nine points.

  The golden aura surrounded him, healing two points of damage per second. The effect the light had on the bugs was something else altogether. All the critters in contact with him began to burn. Disgusting stinking smoke erupted from the squat shapes. The scarabs leaped away from him as if he was on fire. A couple ended belly-up and burned for a few more seconds, their legs kicking feebly before falling still. The survivors ran away.

  Hawke felt weak from blood loss, but the aura was helping deal with that. He should have figured it out without the sword telling him. In many games, life-giving spells had the opposite effect on Undead. From the looks of it, the scarabs were especially vulnerable to it.

  Saturnyx told him in a pedantic tone.

  I did not know that, he admitted.

 

  His Health bar was slowly ticking up; he decided to toss in a couple of Touches of Light for good measure. The feeling of having wounds close and blood being replaced was amazing; the pain didn’t just go away, you felt every muscle in the affected area relax and warm up. Meanwhile, well away from the golden light surrounding him, the rest of the scarabs had gathered together. There were dozens of them. He’d been lucky they’d come at him in dribs or drabs, or they would have torn him to pieces before he could cast the spell keeping them at bay. And they were beginning to creep closer towards him. Maybe they figured that a mass rush would let them kill him before his spell could destroy them.

  He started casting his other aura spell. Shield of Light made him glow even brighter; he finished the casting just in time to meet another charge. The bugs were ready for Round Two. Unfortunately for them, so was he.

  The difference the two auras made was incredible. The bugs that survived long enough to bite him did no damage except for the occasional critical hit. Meanwhile, even a shallow cut from his sword or a good foot stomp did enough extra Light damage to kill the disgusting critters. He took a few more points of damage but the healing aura closed those wounds almost as quickly as they were inflicted.

  The fight – more like an extermination job – went on for a while. Squishing bug after bug felt like an endless chore. He cut and stabbed them with his sword, used his shield rim to crush them, and stomped them over and over. The stench was incredible, like stink bugs, only turned all the way to eleven. His Endurance pool became a worry; as it ticked down to single digits, he found himself swaying on his feet. Saturnyx helpfully reminded him at the five-minute mark to refresh his auras and he was thankful enough he didn’t grumble at the scorn in her voice. Recasting both spells nearly exhausted his Mana, but he had regained a couple of points every minute, so he had enough magical juice left.

  The last bug almost got him. Hawke slipped on a piece of carapace and fell forward, ending up on his hands and knees. The surviving undead scarab was the biggest of the gang, with 13 Health. It went right for his unprotected face, mandibles aimed at his eyes. He dropped his sword and grabbed the damn thing, the aura burning it every second. That wasn’t enough; the mandibles closed on his left wrist, drawing blood. Hawke smashed the bug against the ground. He did over and over, even after it stopped moving, screaming in uncontrollable fury all along.

  He kept screaming for several seconds. Rage like nothing he had ever felt before consumed him. He raged at the undead bugs, at the damn sword that had almost gotten him killed, at whatever god or monster had thrown him into this damn game world made real. He wanted to go home.

  Saturnyx asked him after he screamed himself into a stupor.

  You’d better be worth all of this, Hawke said. You’d better be a gold-level Artifact, Excalibur-grade killing machine.

 

  “Guess we’ll find out,” he said out loud. His throat felt raw but the healing aura was taking care of it.

  He pressed on.

  Seven

  Congratulations! You have reached Level Two!

  You have gained 6 Attribute points to distribute.

  New Light Spells Available.

  Your Sword Skill has been raised to 6.

  Your Shield Skill has been raised to 6.

  Current XP/Next Level: 135/250

  Hawke opened the prompts as he made his way through the tunnel. As it turned out, killing dozens of Undead bugs had netted him more than enough XP to get him to level two, with thirty-five extra points towards his next level. Deciding that a break was called for
, he gulped down another water bottle and tried out one of his iron rations; it tasted a bit like a granola bar, if granola bars were bonded together with Krazy Glue. He did some bookkeeping while he ate and drank.

  Hawke decided to spread out his new Attribute points, putting one each into Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Spirit, Intelligence and Charisma. Charisma didn’t figure into his secondary characteristics, but Hawke expected it would affect how people reacted towards him. If he ever made it out of the tunnels, he would reach civilization, where he would be a stranger. Making it easier for others to like him might pay off in the future. After answering ‘yes’ for the inevitable ‘Are you sure?’ prompt, he felt a rush of power coursing through him. His body changed noticeably. His armor and clothing felt a little lighter and tighter, as if he had gained a couple pounds of muscle all of a sudden. He didn’t feel smarter, not exactly, but his memories of the past few hours became clearer and more focused. Interesting.

  Time to pick up a new spell. He had three choices available. Blade of Light projected an aura on his weapon that did an extra 3 points of damage per level, doubled against Undead, Demons, and Beyonders, whatever those were. Hammer of Light let him throw a magical energy hammer that inflicted 1-10 points of damage per level (also doubled against supernatural nasties) to a target up to fifty yards away. Bulwark of Light was a temporary aura that could absorb up to 10 points of damage per level. He decided to go for Hammer of Light, just to have a ranged attack available.

  Hammer of Light

  Time to Cast: 3 seconds. Cooldown: 5 seconds. Cost: 5 Mana. Duration: Instant. Range: 50 yards. Effect: Creates a hammer-shaped missile of pure Light energy that inflicts 1-10 points of damage per level, doubled against Beyonders, Demons, and the Undead.

  He looked over the revised character sheet while he finished eating his Iron Ration:

  Name: Hawke Lightseeker. Race: Half-Elf (Eternal). Class: Paladin. Level: 2

  Experience/Next Level: 135/250

  Attributes:

  Strength 13, Dexterity 13, Constitution 17, Intelligence 12, Spirit 17, Perception 12, Willpower 11, Charisma 16

  Characteristics:

  Health 33 (Regain 3.7/minute)

  Mana 30 (Regain 3.7/minute)

  Endurance 28 (Regain 3.7 minute)

  Identity: 20

  Skills

  Dodge 4, Lore 1, Shield 6, Spear 3, Stealth 1, Survival 2, Sword 6, Tracking 1

  Languages

  Common Fey, Vulgate, Lesser Celestial

  Perks

  Dark Vision, True Sight, Undying, Unlimited Potential

  Spells/Abilities

  Aura of Light, Hammer of Light, Shield of Light, Touch of Light

  Not bad at all. With his increased Health pool, he could take a lot more damage before keeling over, although he wasn’t sure how that worked in real life. Maybe magic made his body tougher somehow. Raising his Strength let him do a little more damage per attack; his Rusty Sword now inflicted 8-11 points of physical damage per swing. Next time he might put more than one point on an Attribute to see what happened.

  Hawke returned the empty water bottle to his inventory and headed towards the magical sword.

  * * *

  There truly was no truth in advertising.

  The tunnel led to a huge natural cavern, over two hundred feet wide. A water stream poured into a small pond, and stalagmites and stalactites dotted the ceiling and floor. Some of them had been broken off, their jagged edges showing where some powerful impact had broken the stone. He saw signs of a battle that had taken place centuries ago. Bits of metal littered the cavern, along with gigantic bones belonging to some sort of humanoid creature with long curved horns protruding from their skulls. Demons, he guessed. The three intact skulls he could see looked demonic enough, kind of like a mix between a horse, a ram, and a human, except for a set of canines that would do a sabretooth tiger proud. He wouldn’t have cared to meet a live version of those things.

  He found the sword lying next to a solidified pool of golden metal. What was left of the sword, that was.

  That’s not a sword. That’s just a handle. Where is the blade?

  <‘That’ is a hilt, guard and pommel, you ignoramus,> the voice in his head replied.

  Shut up.

  He leaned over the inanimate object that had led him there. The leftover piece did look pretty badass, he had to admit. The cross-guard was made of black metal with golden veins running through it, shaped in a shallow ‘u’ to protect the wielder’s hand. The handle appeared to be made of ivory; it had been sculpted into the likeness of a dragon while still remaining practical to hold. It was long enough to wield one- or two-handed, what most games he’d played called a ‘bastard’ or hand-and-a-half sword. The pommel at the end was a multifaceted red jewel. In the golden light of his auras, he saw a shadowy eye in the middle of the jewel.

  The eye blinked at him and he staggered back and fell on his ass for the second time that day.

 

  That’s great. Where’s the rest of you?

 

  And...?

 

  While the sword went on and on about how awesome it was, Hawke used True Sight on it:

  Saturnyx Demons-Bane (Legendary Artifact): Soul Sword. Level ?? Damage ?? Special Abilities: ?? A Soul Sword’s specific abilities depend on the level of its wielder and the quality of its blade. Must be Soul Bound to use.

  Okay, I’m impressed. Only problem is, where do I find a blade for you?

  Hawke heard an exasperated sigh in his head.

 

  Okay.

  Hawke picked up Saturnyx. The bone hilt felt warm to the touch. Holding it in his left hand, he drew his Rusty Long Sword with his right. Its cross-guard was bronze, with worn spots where nicks and cuts had been sanded off over the years. The hilt was wrapped in leather, and its pommel was a simple steel ball. It was a functional weapon, and in medieval times would be worth more than what a peasant could ever afford to pay. Compared to the work of art in his other hand, however, it looked like, well, crap.

  What do I do now?

 

  The talking sword was turning out to be a delight to have around.

  Hawke slowly moved his hands together until Saturnyx and the Rusty Long Sword came into contact. Nothing happened for several seconds. He was about to make a snarky remark when the enchanted hilt began to glow. The light it emitted wasn’t
the same golden hue as his Paladin spells; it was silver with black motes that moved in strange, almost hypnotic patterns. There was a blindingly bright flash a second later. When it dissipated, he was holding a new sword. The blade was three or four inches longer, and the guard, hilt and pommel had been replaced by Saturnyx’s.

  the talking sword said. Hawke examined his new weapon:

  Saturnyx Demons-Bane (Legendary Artifact). Soul Sword. Level 2. One- or two-handed. Damage: One-Handed: 16-21. Two-Handed: 17-33. Requires Sword Skill.

  Special Abilities:

  Enhanced Attributes: +2 to Strength, +2 to Constitution, +2 to Dexterity.

  Enhanced Skills: +2 to the wielder’s Sword Skill.

  Dragon-Bone Hilt: Provides Damage Resistance: Elemental (Fire) 30% Elemental (All Others): 10%.

  Elysian Steel Cross-Guard: Reduces the Mana cost of spells by 1.

  Demons-Bane: Triple damage to demons; double damage to demonically possessed or influenced beings.

  Sense Evil: Can detect the presence of Demons, Undead and Beyonders within a hundred yards. Note: Powerful entities may be able to mask their presence.

  Special Powers: Choose one from three available Sword Boons.

  A Soul Sword’s abilities are modified by the level of its wielder and the quality of the weapon it is affixed to. Must be Soul Bound to use.

  “Holy crap.” The sword made WoW’s heirloom weapons look like hot garbage. He could do double the damage he had before and even more if he used it two-handed. And those bennies were just what he was getting at level two; no telling what else the weapon was capable of. Then there were the Sword Boons, whatever they were.

  The weapon sniffed.

  “I get it. You’re overqualified to be a noob’s weapon. Sorry I’ve disappointed you.”

 

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