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Bloodsworn ch. 42
🕑 Added 2024-11-30 21:19:39 +0000 UTC42.
Erak Bloodsworn lvl. 17
Strength: 50
Vigor: 25
Durability: 25
Perception:22
Processing: 21
Erak gasped as the flood of power staggered him as he walked up the steps. The increase to his strength was a sudden flood that made his mind reel. The smaller boosts to everything else took the slightest edge off of the effects of the fight.
Erak pushed that all back as he found the room he had lost his sword in and grabbed that and resheathed it.The Fury's knife had been wedged part way into a wall and he tugged it free, the forearm length blade of bronze uncommonly sharp. He looked at it and the designation popped up and he had to resist a small smile.
Hellflame Bronze Dagger
Uncommon
Forged with Hellflame this dagger requires no sharpening and is more durable than most blades. Durability for blade is a 1.2x multiplier to holders Durability stat.
Erak stared at the extra information bobbing in his vision and huffed in annoyance. He didn’t need the extra knowledge. He mentally flicked Pomp for giving him the extra luggage. He dismissed it all and tucked the knife into his weapons belt, trying to remind himself to go and get the demon’s sheath.
There was a new skill for him to take as well. The normal aura abilities were available and so were the skill attacks. Shield bash and a new attack called sword sweep, but the after effects of the last time he had improved his Essence capabilities were still fresh in his mind.
Bond Construct
Using Essence form a physical body for your bond.
Increasing skill levels will increase durability and duration of construct.
Erak could understand immediately where having Pomp as a physical creature would be helpful. He selected the skill and had an internal sigh of relief when he saw he didn’t need to improve his Essence stats.
He went back down the steps and looted the Fury’s body. The blade’s sheath was cleverly tucked into the small of her back and he ripped it free and repositioned it to sit on his hip. She had nothing else of value on her, the whip destroyed and the shield missing after their tumble through the sky.
Erak walked out of the building and back on the streets and had to take a few minutes to figure out where they had crash landed. They had fallen in the general direction of the red light district where Sword’s mantle holder was supposed to be. It was still a few miles away and the only light came from the out of control fires throwing red illumination across everything.
Erak started forward, eyes sweeping the crevices all around him, alert for an ambush. With every step further forward the tension mounted, the dancing and twisting shadows around him, the impenetrable ceiling of smoke that rippled with the passage of winged demons. Nothing challenged him as he walked.
The distance melted away and soon he could hear the clamor of battle. The sizzling hiss of flesh burning under caster fire, the screams of men and women as they were consumed by demon’s, the general chatter of people and demons organizing. Erak moved faster and left the tightly packed housing district as he moved lower into the Imperial city.
The hills that formed the corners of the valley that the city sprawled across pooled here. Workers had dug and reinforced the ground and soon ancient stone and weathered wood rose above Erak’s head. There was a sense of antiquity here, beneath the squalor and spray paint and neglect. It was one of the original parts of the city and its age showed in the neglect and tight corridors of twisting and poorly built structures.
The road had condensed from wide boulevards to narrow streets, hardly wide enough for three men to walk side by side. Shattered glass crunched under his feet, turned to dust under his weight. Corpses were sprawled out, white and pale in death, the beginning of the bloat setting in.
Something skittered above him, a dark shape moving across the close rooftops and Erak froze for a moment. He shifted his grip on his spear and shield and then pushed forward. The battle ahead called to him and he needed to bring back the mantle holder sooner rather than later.
He rushed forward and heard something hit the ground behind him, flesh on stone slapping in rapid cadence, and he spun around, thrusting the spear in a smooth motion. The creature leapt, bloated and pale, and the spear ripped through its engorged stomach with the sound of a waterskin tearing.
Blood splashed out in a wave, slopping across the pavement as the creature yowled in pain. It twisted and landed lightly, hissing as it slashed out with three inch long claws. Erak used his shield to deflect the strike, but the power behind it staggered him, causing his eyes to widen as the creature roared like a lion.
It had a mouth full of jagged teeth, bloodstained black, and a long tubular tongue that lashed the air. Its nude body was sexless and flabby, rolls of skin hanging off it as crimson eyes rolled in their round sockets. It lacked any hair and its scalp was raw and bleeding, scabs all over it as it slashed at Erak again.
Lesser Blood Leech lvl. 18
A black alchemy experiment that has produced questionable results
Erak shrugged off the attack, bracing his feet and stabbing it again. This time the spear tip didn’t rip skin, but punctured through its sternum. It froze and then screamed again, gurgling as clotted blood rolled out of its mouth and down its short thick throat. Erak ripped and tore the spear free and the creature finally went silent as it slumped to the ground.
He looked about and there was movement everywhere. In the abandoned buildings, across the rooftops, in the alleys, across the street. Dozens of the nude figures running about with their red eyes reflecting the flames.
Erak ran, turning and pumping his legs as he raced deeper into the red light district. He was in a bad position to fight all of them, there were simply too many and he was too exposed. His spear flashed and he cut down a lunging figure. He kept going, twisting his body to slap another leaping figure out of the air with his shield. The crunch of bones and the splat of it against a building brought a grim smile to his face.
Erak left the main street, darting through an alley and emerging into the middle of fierce scrum. Bodies, demons and humans, were intermixed fighting and slashing, crushing and killing, in a mixed frenzy of rage. Erak looked about the tight confines of the street and something was wrong.
The Imperial citizen’s eyes were wide and fierce, spittle covered their mouths as they attacked anything that moved, ally or demon. Clubs, glass, bricks, and balled up fists were being used with impunity, regardless of the damage attacking with them caused.
Erak felt something tug at him, in his gut, where that ball of rage sat since the beginning of all of this. The injustice, the murder, the dishonor. All of it came rising like a burning tide up his gut and filling his heart and mind as his vision clouded red.
Cold froze it all. From his shoulders and spine a chilling frost rolled down him, containing that inferno of hatred. Erak gasped as he regained himself and glanced backward to the alley he had just emerged from. None of the leeches had followed him, but there was still movement on the tightly packed rooftops.
Erak looked back over the fight, scanning and trying to see what was out of place. The scrum of flesh was hard to see through but he saw something standing still. Where everything was kinetic and violent, the immobility of one was impossible to ignore. Erak turned and started to muscle his way toward the newest demon.
