《Eldritch Night》Chapter Sixteen: Night Turns to Day
Advertisement
Tiller and I stood on a raised concrete platform that was overlooking the river. I was covered in sweat, and my arms and head hung down loosely in exhaustion. Tiller looked little better, bent over with his hands on his knees and gasping for breath.
“You doing all right there, old man?” I yelled.
“I seem to remember landing more shots than you did.” He said, pausing between words to suck in breaths. “And I’m two years older than you, tops.”
“I just needed to hit you once, your puny…”
“Enough, both of you save your breath.” We both stopped and looked up.
Catayla sat on a railing, one leg hanging loosely over the edge with the other pulled up to her chest. She looked like any casual movement could send her toppling over the rail and into the rocks and water below. Behind her the sun was beginning to set beneath clouds dyed crimson and orange. It was an image that made her seem both regal and bored.
When Tiller and I had approached Catayla for tips on how to increase skills she surprised us by insisting on training us herself. That was three days ago. Three days of twelve-hour training sessions under a grueling tyrant. If we weren’t sparring with each other, we spent every minute of that time engaging in calisthenics that I was sure had been developed as part of an advanced level torture program.
At first, I wasn’t sure why she had agreed to train us, but now I suspected that this was her idea of entertainment. After we had arrived the scout had spent the first two days in closed door negotiations with the leadership of New Charleston, but now she had little to do but to wait for a reply from her superiors. While waiting she would torture a couple of locals to keep the tedium at bay.
“Good,” she said. “Tiller you’ve already got a solid grasp on how to lead your shots but try aiming a little lower when your opponent is evading. The concussive effect of your shots can trip them up even on a miss.”
With a twist she launched herself from her perch sending herself several meters forward until, with a flip and a perfect landing, she was standing between Tiller and myself. She turned to look at me before continuing.
“Finn, you still need to put in more effort. Never stop moving against an opponent like Tiller. His ranged attacks are quicker than yours and they interrupt your casting, but you refuse to close the gap. Try taking him up close and you neutralize one of his only advantages against you.”
We both nodded and walked back to our places across from each other.
“Again.”
We both reacted in an instant.
Tiller rapidly began firing his revolver at me. I was charging towards him in a zig-zag pattern, but prior experience had taught me that he could hit a moving target almost as easily as a stationary one. I flung myself to the side and activated my mana shield. I was able to dodge the first bullet by anticipating when he would fire, but two more shots followed it hitting me square in the chest. Each shot exploded in a flash of blue energy, the concussive force of the two blasts causing me to stumble backwards.
Advertisement
I dropped and hit the ground rolling, but Tiller was ready, already sending two more bullets into the ground right where my feet had been. The blast knocked me to the side, but I was quickly on my feet and rapidly closed half the distance between us.
I knew Tiller only had one more shot. After that he could still fire bullets made of pure mana, but they didn’t have the same stopping power as physical rounds. Perhaps two-thirds at the most. He also lacked the high level of mana to keep up such a barrage for long.
I baited him by beginning to cast arcane missile, an attack I knew he had trouble with. The swarm of self-correcting shots was almost impossible for him to fully dodge.
Predictably, he sent a round aimed right at my center of mass. I used an ability I had been practicing with but had held back from using in our spars. Using my Mana Manipulation skill, I was able to shape my Arcane Shield into a curved plane in front of me. This thicker and more focused shield was able to tank most of the force of the blast from Tiller’s shot. This let me keep my footing as I pushed off on my right foot, launching myself straight at tiller.
I made no attempt to evade or present a difficult target, instead relying on my reshaped shield to protect me. As I charged forward I drew my sword, aiming to press it against Tiller’s chest and declare victory for the round.
I was knocked off balance as two shots exploded behind me. Tiller had anticipated my move and adapted, firing behind me rather than trying to pierce through my shield. It was enough to cause me to overextend my thrust and tiller used a baton to guide my blade around him in a perfect parry.
I felt the barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of my shoulder. My Arcane Shield no longer protected my back. If it had I could have gone on fighting, but as it stood I had no choice but to concede the fight.
“All right,” I said. “You’ve got me this time. Mind lowering that peashooter? Or are you just excited to see me?”
“Cracking jokes won’t change the fact I just kicked your ass, kid.”
“Kid? You’re like…”
“That’s it for the day,” Catayla said interrupting my response. “Do a dozen laps and then get some rest. I’m heading down for some grub.”
She began walking away before looking back. “Don’t even dare join me smelling like a couple of wild tjornacs. That rust bucket still has running water, I suggest you avail yourself of the luxury.”
“Good job,” Tiller said. “That trick you did with your shield almost took me by surprise. If you’d been a step faster, you’d have skewered me.”
“I just wish I could keep up with that reaction speed of yours,” I said. “Those last two shots nearly knocked me on my ass.”
Advertisement
We bantered for a bit, but a look from Catayla as she walked away sent us both running.
As I ran I began going over my gains in the past few days. The constant practice trying to avoid, or tank Tiller’s shots had granted me a Dodge skill that I had quickly brought up to the third level. It didn’t make me faster or more nimble, but it did seem to give me an innate sense of where attacks would hit me and how best to avoid them.
The constant barrage of bullets had also increased my Arcane Shield to its forth level, and I noticed a reduced pull on my mana when it was active. Arcane Missile, Sword, Physical Fitness, and Mana Manipulation had all increased by a single level as well.
Most interesting were the abilities I had gained after completing the Hedge Magician feat. I had gained three new spells, Tanglefoot, Wild Growth, and Barkskin.
Wild Growth and Tanglefoot both required me to be near living plant matter and were useless in my spars with Tiller. The raised platform was too far from the ground and I had been unsuccessful in reaching through the concrete. I had managed to increase each skill to its second level during my evening walks by practicing on the grass and weeds that grew between buildings and in the cracks between pavement. These skills were situational, but I had high hopes for their potential.
Barkskin, too, was disappointing and had proved unable to stop Tiller’s bullets. The growth of bark was too thin to stop bullets, and while it was unnaturally elastic it still restricted my movements somewhat. This detriment would lessen as I improved the skill, however.
This deluge of FP I had gained allowed me to complete the Autodidact feat, gaining an additional two intelligence and a slight increase to my learning speed. This would prove useful in breaking through the soft cap on many of my skills. At least I hoped.
Additionally, I had opened three new feat paths- Illusionist and Circle Mage were most likely opened by completing Hedge Magician feat, and Erudite was obviously a continuation of the Autodidact path.
Each of the three new feats required an intimidating twenty-five points to complete. It seemed the cost between tiers increased significantly past the first two levels of each tree.
I had poured all eleven of my remaining FP into Erudite and was rewarded with an additional four intelligence at the tenth point. Despite these gains I was barely able to keep up with Tiller, easily losing as often as I won.
Rather than focusing on a single stat tiller had split his gains between perception and reaction. The combination gave him an impressive boost to reflexes and an almost preternatural ability to judge where his shots would land. This, combined with the area-of-effect nature of his attacks, had let him juggle me almost at will until I had adapted my tactics. Even then I would have been unable to compete with him at all without the use of Arcane Shield.
It was humbling as I had started to believe that my gains were unique. The truth is many of the survivors had experienced much more combat than I had over the last few weeks. Some of them, including Tiller, even had combat training from their prior lives. This was a gap I was still trying to close.
After finishing, Tiller and I agreed to meet up at his office after getting cleaned up and finding something to eat. I stayed, catching my breath, while Tiller left toward the small shack he shared with his sister and uncle.
I took a long drink from a plastic water bottle and sat on the railing looking over the waters of the cooper river as it flowed into the harbor. The skyline was divided by the Ravenel bridge, still standing despite everything. A testament and lasting legacy to what we had once been.
After watching Tiller leave I decided to take a quick walk around the water to clear my head. The sun was still going down and the sunset over the water was one of my favorite things. The night was beginning to grow dark bringing with it a cool breeze that I found refreshing after the day’s exercise.
The oranges and reds of the sunset were quickly replaced with twilight as the sun set behind the bridge. I turned back towards the ship, intending to take a shower and find something to eat when the gradually darkening sky once again lit up.
A purple sun had risen to the east even as the last dim rays of the sun set to the west. I could hear shouts and feet on pavement as people began running. I climbed back up the platform Tiller and I had used for training to get a better view of the sky.
To the east rose a large pillar of purple light. The light was blinding to look at and illuminated the world as clearly as if it were day. Above the pillar was a spinning vortex of dark clouds that overtook half the sky.
After staring at it for a moment I quickly looked away, rubbing at my eyes. The vortex was in the same direction as the dungeon, and I was willing to bet anything that it was the epicenter of this light.
“Shit,” I said. The noise of running and screaming drowned out my voice, leaving me alone as I once more watched my world change.
Advertisement
War Games
One day, Sam and Xander wake up to find themselves in a different world. They find out that the place they were in is called Origin and they became Warlords. They then get set along to a different world, one that might not be able to handle the massive change that they bring with them. The goal of Sam and Xander is to establish themselves in their world before two years since that was when the War Games are taking place. Sam and Xander would be put against other warlords of a different world. As both of the armies clashed, one might lose everything while the other gets stronger. My goal is 6 chapters a week. The story will include kingdom-building, war, and military strategy. The story is a working progress so any feedback is appreciated. If you find an error, please point it out in the comments and I will correct it as soon as I can.
8 269The Spell Crafter
The War is over and the Union of Kingdoms is at peace... Yet conflict casts a long shadow and not everyone can let go of the years of blood. Amidst rumours of necromancy and against a backdrop of suspicion, Kanick of the Battlemages is called from retirement to investigate the mysterious death of an old friend. As the case begins to unfold, Kanick and his new apprentice realise that not all is right with the Kingdom and personal tragedy threatens to blossom into a crisis that could consign the world to centuries of darkness.
8 440The Heavens System Subsidiary (I Was Chosen By The Word)
Vincent Gate, A Middle-Class man with a below low-class life. His mother was a rape victim in coma. To bring his mother out of her coma, He tried all he can but one day all his efforts went to nought and not too long after he followed. He expected to find himself in Satan’s embrace or God’s grace, instead he woke up in a queue of long souls with an Identification No [77777]. He was judged to be passed on but had complications so he couldn’t, hence he had to be reincarnated but with an ability only . By why does he find himself with an overpowered ability and a system to boot? In a new world, new dimension, new danger. How can Vincent Gate expect to survive with an ability to make all that exists his [Sandbox]? ‘’By the Power of [@#[email protected]!], [Devour].’’ ‘’By the Power of [@#[email protected]!], [Rewrite]’’ ‘’By the Power of [@#[email protected]!], [Kill Yourself] Read and find out
8 128Grahlgar the Ogre
Is it wrong for an ogre to be kind? Is there some unspoken rule that they must be bloodthirsty savages? Will they ever be able to find those who can accept them? In a world of discrimination, a gentle ogre seeks the answers to these questions and finds much more than he bargained for.
8 389desire | lucas sinclair
y/n is on the hawkins volleyball team, she is a pretty, popular, and smart girl. she's friends with the popular basketball player, lucas sinclair. she wants to be friends with lucas's friends, but they won't let her join their party. how will everything work out with y/n?----- she/her pronouns for y/n- contains language and violence ----#2 - lucassinclairxreader #8 - lucassinclair----
8 109ESA (Ranboo x reader)
The store looked sketchy, a place Mark definitely would have preferred to avoid. But his platonic husband Tubbo was dragging him inside, saying that the magic lady wasn't a hoax.×××"You need an emotional support animal (y/n)! Your parents refuse to believe you have any mental problems, and you can't afford a therapist. This is the next best option!"I looked at the cat, and back at Jack."Fine, but you have to name it," I demanded. "Catboo, it's officail," he shouted triumphantly.NO ART IS MINE
8 121