Battleforged
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Chapter 51 - A Lich's Curse: Part 5
🕑 Added 2022-05-09 08:45:54 +0000 UTC“Eric, get up! We have to move now!”
Eric groaned. For a second, it was all he could do to fight the urge to hurtle all over, before finally stumbling back to his shaky feet. Yet a quick look at his character sheet made it clear that his reserves were back up to full, and he shouldn't be feeling any pain at all.
If anything, he was awed by how much he had grown, absorbing it all in the blink of an eye before racing to Morlekai's side.
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Eric Silver - Level 9 Conscript
(You are currently at 10.4% of maximum core density)
Physical Characteristics
Strength – 20 (89%)
Vitality – 21
Finesse – 21
Quickness – 17
Appearance – 10
Mental Characteristics
Scholarship – 12
Perception – 18
Willpower – 20
Charisma – 13
Potency Pools
Arcane Potential – 14
Spiritual Energy – 16
Soul Reserves – 29 (26) - You now possess Multiple Blood-linked Artifacts. Every 25 pounds of blood linked artifacts, or 50 pounds of Blood-linked possessions you have formed bonds of familiarity with, will reduce Effective Soul Reserves by 1 additional point.
Stamina – 250 Points
Health – 320 Points.
Resistances & Recovery
Physical Resistance – 1
Physical Regeneration – You recover 1 Health Point every 13 seconds.
Elemental Resistance – 0
Qi Resistance – 0
Mental Resistance – 3
Physical Age = 17 Years (+228 Days & 14 hours forever lost!)
Interface Recognized Skills
Acting – Rank 3
Bardiche (Glaive) – Rank 10 (Cleaving Blow)
Bardiche (War Blade) – Rank 10 (Cleaving Blow)
Blade and Shield – Rank 7
Bow (All Types) – Rank 12 (True Strike)
Crossbows – Rank 14 (True Strike)
Dagger – Rank 3
ESS Manipulation – Rank 8
Find Weakness – Rank 4
Negotiation – Rank 5
Repair – Rank 1
Saber – Rank 12 (Doom Slice)
Spear – Rank 11 (Piercing Strike)
Stealth – Rank 9
Swimming – Rank 2
Unarmed Combat – Rank 5
Necromancer Affinities & Skills
Blood Mastery – Rank 14 (Blood Claimance)
Spirit Mastery – Rank 10 (Path of Dominion)
Rituals of Summoning and Binding – Rank 10 (Path of Dominion)
Flesh Sculptor – Rank 9
You are now an Initiate of the Path of Blood!
You are now a Journeyman of the Path of Dominion!
You are now an Apprentice Necromancer!
Necromancer Spells
Unorthodox Abjuration – Rank 1
Damage inflicted upon undead: EXTREME. / Cost: 300 experience, 50 temporary health, 100 mana, ½ of Soul Reserves. - NOTE! This attack WILL affect Bronze tier targets!
Interface Enhancements
Full Neuro-Linguistic capabilities
Extradimensional Storage Space
Essences Claimed:
Fire (Rank 1, White Tier)
Wrath (Rank 1, White Tier)
Dominion (Rank 1, White Tier)
Essence Related Skills:
Burst of Strength: Rank 7
Infravision: Rank 6
Heat Surge: Rank 7
Unformed (Trash Tier) Cultivation Technique (Flame Origin) – Novice – 3%
Titles Earned
Necromantic Prodigy – Adept tier Necromantic paths are now open to you!
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He was actually quite surprised by how much he had grown in an extremely short period of time, no doubt due to having chosen maximum potency to skill rank conversion, which itself depended on things like Contender Status, Race, and Nodes, two of the three variables being things he didn't understand at all. Yet it all still felt to him as real as a solid year of extreme hardcore training… even if, in reality, only days had passed since his last level up.
Besides steady improvement in multiple Journeyman skills, he noted improvement in hand-to-hand after using everything at his disposal while fighting hoards of undead in extremely close combat, where smashing with a shield, punching with the hilt of his weapon, and powerful jerking draw cuts that could have as easily been spinning backfists had been as important as any fancy footwork with his blade.
So too, Blade and Shield was new, no doubt representing his increasing ability to use shield and weapon separately or in coordination to force weapons off-line while darting in for the kill, or hooking blade with blade and using the rim of extremely hard lizard scale shield itself as a weapon, having caved in at least one zombie’s face with the maneuver, before following up with a flaming blade. Fortunately, it didn't in any way take away from his saber ability. Rather it highlighted just how useful the shield itself could be as an extra tool in combat, and was probably why swordsmen in actual warfare had almost always had shields in their offhand.
But none of that really mattered right now, Eric thought, as he caught Morlekai’s anxious gaze.
"Eric! Thank god. I had..." The man swallowed, visibly shaken, and that alone filled Eric with a sense of dread.
“Please tell me things aren’t a complete disaster, and that we’re safe here, at least?” He gave a frustrated shake of his head. “Fuck, Morlekai, we’re supposed to be heroes! But that giant titan was fucking massive!”
His friend sighed. “I know,” he said, flashing a bitter smile of his own. “And the only reason we’re having this conversation in this house instead of in our escape tunnel...”
“Wait, we have an escape tunnel?”
Morlekai silenced him with a glare. “Is because a certain hunter had the courage to lead that undead titan away.” The man shook his head, a glimmer of awed disbelief showing in his cynical features. “And had I not heard the man give his very oath to Mayor Stibbs… and the look of sad acceptance in his eyes when he seemed to glow with the quest, pulling out a bundle of crimson thread even I felt drawn to, swearing he could pull away any undead… he brought us time.”
Eric swallowed, gazing at the moment for long moments. “Is he...”
Morlekai’s jaw tightened. “The mayor cried out when the quest was forcibly… failed.”
Hard, desperate eyes locked with Eric’s own. “He brought us an hour. Enough time for a fraction of our city to be evacuated, and no more than that. Now? The alarm bells have rung. We have less than five minutes before the horror returns, with who knows how many walkers beyond the ones we are desperately trying to contain with John Smith's cleaving bardiches as best we can, as the spears proved utterly worthless."
Morlekai gave a frustrated shake of his head. "And still, we've lost over half our town guard, with another ten deserted. Not that I blame them, even if everyone still fighting to defend our home are only there because they have been promised a gold eagle each, so long as they stand tall no matter what."
He flashed a crooked smile. "And considering that all that fleeing will do is by them a few panicked moments or hours of self-loathing before hoards of undead butcher them all, most of the guardsmen, and all the town militia we have since risen, know that they will either stand and fight together, or die alone."
Eric slowly nodded, taking it all in. "So. Exactly one hour has past, and five minutes till go time."
His friend flashed a bleak smile. “More or less.”
Eric flinched at the imploring look in his eyes. “Eric, I...” Morlekai swallowed, shaking his head. “I know its madness to ask this when my sister, Louise, Drake, will be out for hours, after nearly losing their lives.” He paled and shook his head. “I should never… my sister… daring to use lightning against the undead when her nature means she’s most suited for drawing in life to recharge her mana, not the corrupted essence of centuries-old revenants.”
Eric's friend gave a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "And I, with my nature… so deadly against the living, all but worthless against the undead. The main reason, perhaps, why so many of my kind walk the Path of Dominion, or at least the bone-raiser's path, desperate to turn their greatest weakness into a strength."
Eric nodded. “Whereas you chose the Path of Blood.”
“I did,” Morlekai sighed and shook his head. “There was a limit as to how many directions I could focus. And less than a year ago, I was far better served learning a few blood talents to the peak of my ability, mastering them so well I could use them even in the densest populations centers of the planet, long before our world became saturated with so many additional forces and fields that now make magic as easy as unleashing one’s will, at least for some.”
Eric nodded. “We got flooded with arcane power, through the roof. Enough to swamp and short-circuit all the high-tech programs and equipment our entire world depended upon. And the very few of us able to survive the pods were implanted with interfaces that now seem designed to set us up to fail.” He caught his friend’s gaze. “My Conjuration and Summoning skill hit Journeyman level, by the way.”
Morlekai blinked in disbelief, before slowly shaking his head. “There’s no way in hell any initiate should have it above Rank 2 so quickly. Perhaps Rank 3, and that’s only if you had a skilled master actively teaching you his craft. And with your lack of any background at all… “
Eric flashed a bleak smile. “I know. Point is, the System tried so damn hard to entice me to take an Abjuration specialist class, even offering it to me as an Advanced Tier combat class that I could take immediately. No pod necessary. Besides making undead especially vulnerable to my spells, it would grant me access to basic arcane feats and countless warriors perks, as well as seven character points to play with per level.”
Morlekai gazed at him for long moments. “That’s over double the level-up points most of us receive with the Conscript classes. And few can hope for earning anything better than a Standard class, eventually, assuming they can even figure out the prerequisites to anything beyond what they already have. To be handed the opportunity to immediately graduate into an Advanced Tier class with access to both weapon and arcane feats... There are any number of adventurers out there that would kill for such an opportunity. You do realize that, don’t you, Eric?”
Eric flashed a bleak smile. “I don’t doubt it. And my spells would have been especially effective against the undead. But there would have been a cost to such a boon.”
“A powerful System recommended class, instantly given, without even needing to access a pod? I don’t see how it could possibly be otherwise,” Morlekai said with a hard smile.
Eric nodded. “It would have been at the cost of my necromantic affinity in its entirity. I would have had no access to my blood magic, or the soul-bound artifacts I can now summon in the blink of an eye. And Morlekai?” He locked gazes with the intent-looking man who might or might not have been an actual vampire, but most definitely had the natural grace and charisma of the Hollywood A-lister he himself could never manage to be. “It would have utterly prevented me from the very real abjuration I somehow cobbled together that let me turn the whole bottom floor of Walkers into blazing hot pyres. And that’s the only reason why I actually made it to the rooftop on time.”
Morlekai chuckled softly. “Instead, you would have a had a class for which you’ve had no training in how to make sufficient use of at all, probably with standardized fully orthodox abjuration rituals you’d have to master and level up independently.” His gaze narrowed. “Even if the cost to use those spells wouldn’t be anywhere near as steep as the one I sense you paid for the sake of my companions and myself. And for that, Eric, I owe you yet another debt.”
Eric grinned. "Don't sweat it, Morlekai. I'm there for my friends. Same as you. Unlike this Interface in my head that I might need to help me survive and quantify this madness, but I can't even trust it not to throw these curve-balls that could have cost me my life, and my friend's lives. It's an awful feeling, like a favorite butler that's vital for running your manor, but on any off day, he just might stick a dagger in your back."
Morlekai chuckled softly, shaking his head with a wry smile. “You’re no fool, Eric. Surely you’ve figured it out by now, haven’t you?”
Eric’s eyes abruptly widened as the hot flush of feeling like he was playing the fool transformed into a shiver of insight.
“Fuck, Morlekai, I think I get it! The advice the Interface gives is good. Fucking life-saving, at times. Maybe. Except in one key area. Classes! It's recommendations might be just fine for your average zero resource survivor to pick a safe class that will at least allow him to survive and prosper, especially compared to someone with no classes at all. But sure as shit, it isn't revealing any secrets to any hidden classes, or the prerequisites we need to follow to have access to them. And if our Terran ancestry gives us access to unorthodox classes that the System only lets us pick because it's part of our racial heritage, only then will it offer anything beyond standard fare to entice us to follow a more orthodox path!"
He chuckled bitterly. "But the minute you choose a class, skill specialization, or other option it was so strongly implying would have dire consequences just seconds before, it immediately changes its tune back to its standard informative self. Because you just know that the whole System is rigged. Rigged to favor powerful clans with access to elite resources, or just in the know about the best classes to take and, perhaps most importantly, how to meet the prerequisites to take them! Such that they can ignore with a chuckle all the Interface's efforts to get you to adhere to a low-risk, low-reward 'Standard' path."
Eric flashed a bitter smile. "Because those heirs to power and resources already know that every other facet of the Interface is designed to help everyone 'in the know' as much as the System will allow, which means that when they pick something unorthodox, the Interface immediately assumes it's one of the elite that made that choice. Not one of the clueless unconnected rubes it successfully nudged away from a path that might have actually made it a threat to the elite scions eager to claim this world for themselves."
Eric nodded to himself, almost certain he understood better than ever how this only superficially egalitarian System worked. "If you're in the know, you already know what path is best suited to your proclivities and the resources you can avail yourself of. You can probably train up basic prerequisites and get a class beyond basic Conscript pretty easily, if you know exactly what you're doing. Hell, even I got several half-decent looking options before that zero-tier psycho pod maliciously crossed out every option save our trash tier class. And when you're getting close to level 10, I'll bet almost everyone on established worlds already knows to make sure you’re doing it with a group willing to carry you through that final level nine push, when you basically go comatose for countless hours as your Interface prepares you fore core compression. Which is fine if you’re a scion of a powerful clan or coven, or even an adventurer from a well-to-do family in a world already long integrated into the System.”
He locked gazes with a cool-eyed Morlekai. “But for us newly integrated savages on as of yet unplundered virgin worlds, we’re basically forced to be Conscripts with no direction in how to become anything better. Which means we’re easy pickings for all the would-be conquistadors, settlers, and powerful alien forces eager to claim Earth’s prizes and either wipe us off the map, enslave us, or ignore us as irrelevant. And as near-powerless Conscripts, what the fuck can we do about it? Save work desperately hard to ingratiate ourselves under the banners of alien classers so much more powerful than ourselves. Our only hope being that if we’re good little tools, we might beg enough crumbs from our future master’s tables to be able to gift our own children with the wisdom they need to pick far better classes than our own.”
Morlekai nodded. “It pleases me to see you understand the true dilemma humanity faces. A dilemma my master will do everything he can overcome. Because if everything goes as planned..."
“You and your merry men will have secured yourselves a fucking fortune in gold bullion. Enough, perhaps, to earn access to an entire library filled with all the knowledge and lore that might help you pick some truly elite classes that are both powerful, and an excellent match for your strengths.” Eric shook his head, flashing a rueful smile. “As much as you play the handsome badass rogue, you’re really in it for a hell of a lot more than just lining your own pockets, Morlekai.”
Morlekai warm chuckle sent shivers down Eric’s spine. “Oh, don't get it twisted, my young friend. I'm most definitely in it for the gold. But if I can help secure my coven a heritage library that will earn our respect on the world stage, and just might help humanity as a whole, then why the hell not? Certainly, no one would dare disparage our crooked paths then."
His bemused smile turned solemn, passing Eric a lake-chilled bottle of ale. “But that’s a matter for another day. If we can help countless thousands, perhaps millions, in the future? Then so be it. But there are some very real people counting on us right now. People for whom we might make an actual difference."
Intent eyes gazed into his own as Eric gratefully chugged down the ale. “Eric, I know it’s only been an hour since we last dodged death together, but I know as well your incredible recuperative abilities. What do you say to us playing hero one more time today?”
Eric blinked, putting down his drink, finally understanding why Morlekai had let him run off the mouth for countless minutes while the town was still under siege. He making sure that Eric's head was in the game, and that he was ready. And as much as Eric hated to admit it, he was almost certain he knew exactly what Morlekai was hoping he'd be ready for.
It was all Eric could do not to break out in bitter laughter. “Let me guess, you want us to take on that fucking massive titan from hell? Jeezus T.H., Morlekai! That thing is beyond the pale!” Then he froze, even as his friend sighed and nodded, flashing a bitter smile.
“I understand. I told Mayor Stibbs we had no choice but to flee for the passage we have done our best to keep clear. Even so, it will be a running..." Morlekai frowned, furrowing his brow. "Eric?"
But Eric just shook his head as his mind raced on a tangent that he knew was pure madness, and yet…
“I see the quest blinking in my interface just now,” he said, licking still-parched lips, happily slugging back the flask of ice-cold water his friend wordlessly passed.
Morlekai flashed a thin-lipped smile. “One of the perks of Mayor Stibbs’ station, even if we never did get the chance to solidify our claim to this territory before the ever-growing hoards positioned themselves to tear it from us, as will happen in just a handful of minutes.”
Eric swallowed. He couldn't believe what he was about to say. "Morlekai? I think there might… I mean…" He sighed, hating himself for even saying it. "I can see the red light blinking on my Interface map. It shows the incursion origin."
Morlekai nodded. “I know. Our noble Hunter friend scouted it out before he perished on a quest for which no one here will ever forget to honor him for daring.”
Eric swallowed, taking another quick glance at his character sheet. Because for all that his numbers said he was at full… “I still feel like shit, even though I should be at 100%”
Morlekai flashed a humorless smile. “I know. Whether we dare the path of the pure Bloodmage, Necromancer, or a hybrid, we both walk a crooked path. And for our sacred art, burning pure life force or experience points places a terrible strain upon us. All the more so, if you pour all your heart and soul into it, if you know what I mean.” His friend gave a curious tilt of his head. “And I think that you do.”
Eric nodded. “I have 29 in Soul Reserves. You’re damn right I know what you mean.”
Morlekai blinked, genuinely caught off guard by that number. “I… well, no wonder, I guess.”
Eric quirked an eyebrow. “To what?”
“To a great number of things.” The man’s bemused smile grew intent once more. “Now tell me your plan. Better yet, let’s make our way to the gates with all haste. Because if you’re serious that you can help us… then we have absolutely no time to waste.”
Eric winced and nodded, quickly following his friend.
But not before making the alterations to a certain multi-ton bulwark, now just the shape he needed it to be, if the first part of his plan was going to work, grateful beyond measure that a Rank 9 in Flesh Sculptor and what was now Rank 8 in ESS Manipulation made the alterations almost as easy as simply visualizing them.
Because even if it was madness and doomed to fail, even if he could do no more than plug a leak… at least he could buy them some time.
