Falling In The Grey

The rushing wind of my descent flitting through my burned fur was almost comforting and the false sense of freedom from the oppressive hand of gravity felt liberating in a way. In that moment, I knew the tranquility so often spoken of in those who know they are going to die.

Is that what I’m going to do here? Simply lay back and let the minor fact that even thinking about movement hurts prevent me from even attempting to save myself? Am I just going to die here? Like this?

No.

I grit my teeth, threw off the veil of comfort, and angled my body for the wind to push me upright; every tiny motion sent lightning bolts of agony dancing across my nerves, but I pushed through on wings of fatalism and spite.

Pain Resistance +1

I knew a rat could survive a fall of roughly fifty feet without dying. I also knew this pit was much, much deeper than fifty feet even if it didn’t end in a river of molten stone. My memory of terminal velocity came to a simple little phrase when it came to such falls; an ant doesn’t notice, a mouse survives, a rat dies, a man breaks, and a horse splashes.

I am a rather large rat and I would rather not die.

My remaining claws are chipped and broken; I wouldn’t fully trust them to carry my weight even if I wasn’t currently falling to my death. Said rapid descent towards fire or impact based death would normally have my mind rushing, panic driving me to poor decisions as it had so many before; but now, my mind was so burnt out from overwhelming rage, terror, and exhaustion that I simply didn’t feel much of anything. Even the possibility of dying here and now was more of an annoyance than the burning terror it should have been.

My mind, clearer than it had been in a long while, latched on to a single memory; a memory of grey mud and spreading corruption. I have very little idea what the Blight actually is, but what I do know is that it softens stone.

I focused, drawing up that ineffably grey feeling from deep within; pulling it to the surface took focus, but not truly effort. The sensation did not offer up any resistance, seeming indeed to revel in the opportunity to spread. I pushed the sickly grey feeling into what remained of the claws on my left forepaw; holding back a shudder at the all too comforting sensation not so much traveling as awakening across my body. I shook the instinctive dread off, I didn’t have time for existential warnings to hold me back.

I gave no mighty roar or defiant cry as my eyes opened and I beheld the near glowing grey my paw had become; I merely leaned forward, and gently placed the tips of my claws against the wall.

The very moment contact was made, the already grey-ish black stone turned into the depthless, soulless grey I had seen radiating out before. A thin grey trail followed my descent, growing wider the further away it went and even beginning to radiate grey veins into and around the tunnel.

I watched for a moment, slowly applying greater force with my claws as I descended. As expected, the infected stone gave way far easier than its untainted form, providing just enough give even at the very point of contact to sink more and more of my claws into the wall.

The relatively soft stone created by the Blight spread just the tiniest bit in front of my claws; less than a quarter inch. My descent slowed to a still slightly too fast halt, only jolting my foreleg enough to make me think it had been severed rather than actually ripping it from it’s socket when I plunged my claws in as deep as I could.

HP -1

I simply hung there from my paw, too exhausted, too hurt, and too close to death to do anything but limply hang. Exhaustion is one thing, what I felt was on a whole other level; where before the very thought of moving filled me with debilitating pain, now merely existing was a strain.

I breathed slow and deep, trying to give my body much needed oxygen so it didn’t simply shut down on me. I know I’ve taken more damage recently than I should have been able to survive, so I can only assume the healing I noticed took place while I was unconscious was in action.

I decided that, so long as I’m stuck here unable to move, I may as well check my status and see if I can figure out what’s going on. I opened it up…

Name: Whitetail

Race: Black Eyed Shadowy Plague Rat (Blight)

Level: 8/30

Cultivation: Restless Darkness

EXP: 20/30

HP: 2/20

SP: 0/12

MP: 19/19

Strength: 21

Agility: 22

Endurance: 97

Wisdom: 13

Intelligence: 30

Charisma: 2

Will: 14

Perception: 22

Fortune: 35

Points: 0

Perks:

Blighted: Your very essence is infused with pestilence. While this soul deep corruption influences your mind towards darker pursuits and actions, it can also be brought to the surface to add the Blight to your magical and physical attacks. It corrupts your flesh and blood, making your every cell deadly to consume. Godsblood runs through your veins, and now it has noticed you. He is watching.

Sociopathic Tendencies: You have muted emotions. Resistant to emotional attacks.

Unnatural Empath: You have been bathed in the projected feeling of others and have picked up the ability to detect the emotions of others to an extent. Increased vulnerability to emotional attacks.

Paranoid: You are suspicious of everything, even yourself. Total awareness of your own condition and access to the passive skill: Paranoia. Stealth bonus to enemies nullified; you cannot be taken by surprise.

Cast Iron Stomach: You can digest almost anything with no repercussions.

Shadowy: Fur appears as if made of shadow and even in direct light your outline appears blurred as if you were hidden in shadow. Improves darkness affinity.

Black Eyed: Your eyes are pitch black and capable of piercing even supernatural darkness as if it were bathed in the light of dawn.

Skills:

Death Roll: Lvl 1: Can shake bladed attacks to inflict wider wounds and cause bleeding. Increase wound size and damage by 5% and adds a 10% chance to inflict bleed. Blade must be embedded in target flesh for 1 second to activate. Costs 5 SP

Night Vision: Lvl 10: You can see perfectly in near no light conditions.

Dark Vision: Lvl 10: You can see perfectly in absolute darkness.

Piercing Dark Vision: Lvl 10: You can pierce even the strongest mystical darkness effortlessly.

Stealth: Lvl 5: Increases your ability to move quietly and conceal your presence. 200% damage bonus to unaware enemies.

Bend Shadow: Lvl 1: You can exert slight control over existing darkness, primarily to further hide yourself or distract others. Cost 2 MP per second of use doubled by every foot of Shadow manipulated.

Scent Scrubber: Lvl 10: You can mask your scent for one hundred minutes.

Scent Killer: Lvl 1: By scrubbing yourself down thoroughly you can remove your scent completely. Lasts ten minutes.

Observe: Lvl 5: You can see basic information about a subject simply by staring at and observing it.

Throat Ripper: Lvl 1: Attacks aimed for the throat and neck deal 10% more damage and have a 25% additional flat chance to cause bleeding.

Gnaw: Lvl 1: Rapid bites that gradually tear away at just about anything. Allows you to bite twice for every actual bite at a cost of 1mp per bite.

Sprint: Lvl 1: Increases running speed by 25% at the cost of 2 SP per second.

Tunnel Sense: Lvl 2: Allows you to somewhat orient yourself whilst in tunnels and kinda remember where you've been.

Paranoia: Lvl 14: Passively gives total awareness of space fourteen feet around you.

Pain Resistance: Lvl 7: Your sense of pain is lessened noticably and you are able to operate as normal even when under marginal duress. Does not affect other physical senses such as touch.

Poison Resistance: Lvl 1: You have a one percent resistance to all poisons.

Fire Resistance: Lvl 8: You have a eight percent resistance to burns and high temperatures in general.

Danger Sense: Lvl 3: Allows you to sense threats in the area and get some impression of how dangerous they are.

Hate Engine: Lvl 1: Allows you to empower your body with the flames of rage and hatred, driving you forth even through debilitating injury or exhaustion. Energy boost lasts one minute and leaves you cripplingly exhausted for ten minutes after.

Titles:

Cannibal: You have consumed the flesh of your own kind. Others of your race will feel uncomfortable around you but you now gain a permanent 10% bonus damage against your race.

Giant Slayer: You killed something at least thrice your size and at least two evolutions above yours. 33% damage boost against those higher level than you and those larger than you.

Self-Named: You chose your own name. 10% damage resistance from all sources and immunity to mind binding magic.

Saboteur: You killed something by strategically destroying the environment. 20% increased damage to secondary effects and shrapnel.

Deathwalker: You have died before, and came out the other side colder. Your soul is forever chilled by the void and your hold on your body is much tighter yet much more distant than ever before. You can survive being below 0 Health for some time before the void reclaims you and you actually die. Your body is forever colder than natural. Grants an affinity for the Void.

...and felt my burnt out veins fill with ice.

Zildan paused midstep, ignoring the worried words of the back alley, likely gang affiliated surgeon he had managed to conscript.

He had never been the most adept of his brothers at sensing disease, but there was not a single field agent that couldn’t sense the Blight within a mile of themselves. He could feel it now, just as he felt it in those bleak tunnels and just as he felt it in that abandoned lake at the mouth of the sewers.

It had been rumours of all life fleeing the local lake reaching an agent amongst the common folk that had gotten him sent out here; for even the barest rumour of the Blight must be investigated by an operative of sufficient standing. He had found the lake, more of a swamp truly, devoid of life and slowly turning the distinctive grey of the Great Enemy. Luckily, the corruption had not yet reached the shores and began corrupting the plant life that could not so easily flee as the fish and insects could.

He always found the silence surrounding Blighted lands to be an eerie, unnerving thing; even the wind seemed to abandon places lost to the sickness. It was especially unsettling when one could hear the whispers of the Great Plague, the lack of other noises making the siren’s song stand out all the more.

Purging a lake was difficult, but the Order had long since devised methods for such. It wasn’t enough to simply blast the water with extreme heat even if one had the means to do so; Blighted water is still water, evaporating it has a nasty tendency to simply make things worse. One must cordon the place off and cast it all into the Void; a rather lengthy and hazardous process if one lacks a Void affinity as he so unfortunately did.

He was stirred from his thoughts by the doctor’s tugging on his remaining arm. For a long moment he debated rushing off to find this source of Blight immediately, but a shot of pain throughout his rotten, burned body changed his mind.

The Blight spreads quickly, but it will spread much further if he dies on the way to fix it than if he stabilizes himself and does it properly.

He allowed the weasely little man to drag him along to his surprisingly pristine surgical table. As he lay down, the doctor prepared a mask emblazoned with symbols of Sleep and Lightning twisted into numbness. Where a back alley surgeon had acquired such a piece, Zildan couldn’t fathom; while most kingdoms nowadays simply used chemicals to knock out and numb patients, the various mage orders were rather stingy with their magical equivalents. For some random hackjob surgeon to have one was… unusual, to say the least.

Normally he would have prevented an unknown and untrusted doctor from using any sort of magical device on him, let alone one ment explicitly to render him helpless; but he knew he was in no condition to survive the extensive surgery that would be required to save him if he had to hold himself still while the doctor routed around in his guts and peeled off his skin or whatever he would have to do. Besides, if he didn’t send a report within a week, Nevermore himself would investigate and the Grandmaster was rather notorious for dealing harshly with those that hindered his Order. If this fool of doctor made the poor decision to do anything untoward to him while he was unconscious, this whole city would pay for it.

As the mask settled over his face and consciousness rapidly slipped away beneath a veil of numbness, he decided that if he woke up from this, he’d investigate this new surge of Blight as soon as possible.