《Of Ghouls and Ghasts》Book 1, Chapter 30: Chaos in the catacombs pt. 2
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Morice – Greatest apprentice (only and self-proclaimed) of Vlad von Carstein.
He could hardly believe his eyes, Vlad and Morice had just finished exploring the muscle fibres, as he called it, in the leg of a ghoul. It had been fascinating how he thought even though he was younger than Morice in terms of his time as a necromancer his mind worked so differently to those in the few rare books Morice had managed to sit down with. He seemed to think of his creations not from the view of a simple conjurer as most modern necromancers did but as pieces of a whole. Something to be moulded and improved upon. He approached it from the same view as a builder or researcher, perhaps a blend between the two with a bit of artistry added in?
But now this strange man from another world, yet to be utterly broken by the horrors he had gone through was writhing on the ground in clear agony. His skin writhed as if the very bones underneath were trying to break free of the muscles holding them together. It was everywhere, his very skull even seemed to writhe beneath his face, a face fixed in a silent scream of such horrid suffering that Morice could barely stand to look upon him.
Then the sounds came the sounds of breaking bones and bones reforming. A sound he was familiar with due to trip to the forest yesterday, what was going on inside Vlad's body?!
Morice flinched when sharp bone claws the size of his middle finger snapped out of Vlads fingertips, they were nothing like the claws that seemed to grow out of his nails. Was this an evolution or mutation of his abilities? Morice had never heard of such a thing being so… intense before.
The last one he had heard of was of how a warrior gained the toughened skin ability which had mutated into armoured skin. His mutation had only caused him to not be able to move for a few moments and then he had to increase his strength just to be able to move properly again due to how stiff his skin had become.
Then Vlad arched his back and the loudest series of bone-breaking snaps rumbled out from his body before as sudden as the attack came it ended. He fell down unconscious and limp, Morice could only stare on in near horror as Charon came running in from one of the hallways and looked from his fearful face to his master. “What happened.” He asked with that otherworldly voice of his, sharp short sword-like blades jutting out from his enlarged forearms.
“I-I don’t know he just suddenly collapsed!” Morice almost screamed as the undead began to advance towards him and then stopped, giving him a chance to explain what happened.
He seemed to calm down at that and then moved to pick his master up, carrying him like a sleeping child upon its fathers back. It would be comical if Morice wasn’t so utterly terrified of the undead Vlad managed to create. Their intellect seemed so keen, much different from his own who seemed to be operating on base instincts though muted. How he did it, he hadn’t said but Morice suspected once he had mastered it Vlad’d teach him. He hoped.
“I think we should find a safe place until my master awakes.” Charon said sternly as he looked at Morice and then nodded to him as he weakly nodded to his words. Mentally calling out to his minions to come to him and he watched Garm and his pack come running alongside his dread wolves.
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Morice felt he owed Vlad, he didn’t have to take him in as an apprentice though it seemed they were more akin to study partners than anything. Still he was grateful, he was the only necromancer that Morice had met that even bothered to look past his wares in the market and at himself. At his own value.
It was silly really, his thoughts swimming like this as the two made their way into a small sepulchral room off the path they had been traversing. “Charon, can you tell if he’s ok?” Morice asked as Vlad was put down on top of the stone sarcophagus in the middle. Just a little way’s away from the undercroft of the church where Morice had suspected the Necroshade to have been buried.
“I can’t truly answer that. I feel he’s… angry for some reason but not at either of us.” Charon began to say and his hesitation made Morice cock his head a little. It was strange how Charon's dead face didn’t show much emotion if any at all yet his confusion could read from his tone.
“How so?” Morice pressed.
“Morice… Do the names O‘Malley, Sutekh and Verona mean anything to you?” Charon asked only to get a shake of Morice's head as a response. He suspected that perhaps it was this undead council as he had been described by Vlad but he hadn't told Morice their names, he didn’t want to make assumptions just yet. Charon looked down at his master and then seemed to almost scoff, though Morice thought it came out more as some sort of dry wheeze of a single breathed laugh.
“He seems rather annoyed at the latter two while he’s angry at this O‘Malley… He seems so distant now.”
“What do you mean distant?” Morice asked curiously as he waved a hand at his dread wolves to take up guarding position just outside the room. He sent two of the five out to patrol the corridors so they’d at least have a bit of forewarning if anything happened.
“Just a few moments before I felt his distress and that he was in pain it would be akin to now.” Charon said looking at Morice. “How you can feel your creations, so to do we feel our creators. Their general locations and even proximity if the bond is strong. But now...” He stopped to allow Morice to ponder what had been said and he realized what he meant a little bit.
Morice's wolves were extensions of himself, like a limb not attached yet one can control just the same. He didn’t know how else to explain it. When Charon spoke again he realized he had been choosing his words and not giving him a chance to think on what he had said. “I feel as if master Vlad is right before me yet impossibly distant as well, like how you can feel the suns warmth upon your face yet never even hope to reach out to it.”
Morice raised an eyebrow and looked at Charon dubiously, the dead man seemed to notice that and scratched at the side of his face. Was he embarrassed? Well, that’s a whole new level to Vlad’s innate skill or just how his thought process was suited to necromancy Morice felt. He wasn’t jealous though what he felt might be similar… Envy?
“I do not mean that to the undead he creates he is like the sun. It is the only analogy I could really think of to explain it. It is hard to put into words really.” Charon then explained and Morice let out an almost explosive exhale as he ran his hand along the side of his head, combing the hair there back.
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“I still have a hard time seeing you guys as dead.” Morice sighed as he sat with his back against the stone sarcophagus.
“I agree.” Charon’s words caught Morice by surprise and he looked up at Charon. “Vlad moulded raw soul energy to create an entirely new soul which he then implanted into us… higher undead? I guess you could call us. We were then granted the knowledge he possessed about our purpose as well as what the souls that made up our new one could offer towards it. It is a strange thing… There is more to him than I suspect even he knows of.” Charon said as he stood close to both Morice and Vlad’s resting form.
“You speak as if he’s a god or something.” Morice said with his eyes furrowed at Charon, he wouldn’t be surprised if his undead viewed him as a god, to them at least. Yet Morice felt Charon was trying to say something else.
Charon laughed and shook his head. “No, he isn’t a god, nothing of the sort. Perhaps he took something along with him when he gained new life?” The way Charon spoke made Morice think that even his own high undead as it where didn’t know how he did it. Maybe Vlad himself didn’t even know himself how he did it. What sort of world must he have come from to have a mind like he did, there was nothing of the usual way he viewed the myriad of races upon the surface of Imerith. Well, not entirely he seemed to have a much harsher view of humans than even most other elves, who had suffered at their hands.
The way he spoke about them it was like he was talking about some sort of pest or plaque. Morice felt Vlad might have some insight that others didn’t. Despite that, however, he surprised Morice with how he treated each individual human he met with caution yet fairness.
“Hmm, perhaps we should just ask him when he wakes?” Morice offered and watched Charon look at Vlad strangely before nodding. Then he bolted up. One of his wolves had just been destroyed. Charon looked from Morice and then towards the doorway and both tensed up as Morice ordered his other wolves into the room.
Garm jumped up and stood over his master with his pack arrayed defensively around him behind Morice and Charon. Charon’s bone short swords jutted out of his forearms and the bone ropes slid out from his palms as he got ready.
Morice on the other hand just looked down at his breastplate and the padded cotton and leather armour underneath that he wore as he pulled out a short sword and hand-axe. he gulped a little, he wasn’t used to this type of situation. His work as an adventurer mostly consisted of guarding the short travelled trade caravans that came from Bedelev and into the nearby towns a day or three away.
Morice gulped once more as his wolves began to growl as he saw the figure coming down the straight passage that connected in a four-way intersection with the one opposite being the short hallway leading to the small sepulchral room they were in.
The figure seemed much more ghostly than substantial but Morice couldn’t mistake it for anything. The tattered robe tied with strips of leather as if trying to mummify him and doing a horrid job at it. The amulet hanging just bellow the white beard coming from the seemingly empty hood giving the shade the appearance he was mocking the priests who had imprisoned his spirit. “Hmm? What have we here? Rat’s scurrying around in my domain?” The raspy, almost croaking voice came from the Necroshade as it walked towards them. His hands behind his back while a horde of ghouls snarled around him, their beady eyes fixated on Morice but they didn’t dare to advance until their master gave the order.
“Why have you come here hm? To stop me perhaps?” The Necroshade laughed, it sounded like someone was using his throat to saw through a piece of wood. His cackling continued until he was only a few steps from reaching the intersection.
“Well?” He demanded of them as his empty hood stared at them, with only the ghostly beard flowing out of it any indication he even had a face. “Answer me you arrogant little pups!” He then roared and Morice saw that the other two hallways were already filled with ghouls waiting for the command.
“It is you we are searching for.” Charon said stiffly as the dots of blue ethereal flame he had instead of eyes seemed to shrink a little as if he was narrowing his eyes at him.
“Oh? You’re looking for me are you? Well I’m flattered, what kind of undead are you anyway? I’ve never seen your type before. Then again that death knight I saw two days ago wasn’t normal either.” The Necroshade answered.
The Necroshade seemed almost confused but Morice saw that he was very interested in Charon. “You mean Abhorash?” Charon replied and the old shade began to clap.
“Oh So that’s what his name is, He was made from some solid materials… Hmm, but there were flaws in him as I can see in you. Your maker who is he?” The Necroshade asked as he looked from Charon to Morice and then at Vlad's unconscious body behind them. “Him?” He asked, seeming to be either in disbelief or disappointed, Morice couldn’t be sure.
Then his eyes flicked down to the Dread wolves and his voice took on an amused timber. “It seems there are two of you with some talent. You’ll make good minions to take over the city above.” He had begun to talk to himself and stroking his beard before he simply waved his hand.
“Kill them, but leave their corpses intact, I require the materials.” He said before turning around and walking away. He seemed to have no interest in interacting with either Morice or Charon.
“Maybe he isn’t as insane as Vlad had feared but I’m rather certain he’s not got a full hen house up there.” Morice quipped as his knees shook. The sea of beady little eyes staring at them outside the room had his heart tightly gripped while it tried to box its way out of his chest.
“Keep them from getting a good foothold, I can deal with them at range if you can deal with those that get inside.” Charon said as the bone ropes drooping down from his palms suddenly moved up like a pair of snakes.
Swallowing and nodding to him, Morice took up his position with his Dread wolves around him. Right as he stepped into his position the ghouls advanced like the very edges of the hallway’s they filled were dam's that burst open allowing the flood of teeth, nails and claws to come forth.
The rabid creatures let out their snarls and shrieks as they clawed at both the ground and walls before them and even at one another all in an attempt to get at flesh before them.
Reading himself and hammering down with his axe into the first ghoul to manage to get through the veritable storm that Charon’s bone whips managed to create before Morice. Right as he looked up to see the claws of two ghouls lunging for him. They had somehow managed to get past Charon’s flicking and rather deadly bone ropes.
The last thing he saw before his wolves came to his rescue was one of the claws raking down across the left side of his face.
Morice screamed in pain as he backed off and fell on his rear, dropping the short sword to grip at the ruined part of his face and the cuts now on his left ear. He screamed along with the few ghouls who got through Charon’s cordon who were ripped apart by both the bone wargs and dread wolves as well.
Their screams blended together as Morice forced himself to manage to bandage up the side of his face with a ripped off cloth from his undershirt. However, he had lost track of time in his agony and by the time he had finally stood up his dread wolves had been all but slashed to near shreds and they had backed off from the entrance. The entrance which by now was utterly filled up with corpses which let them have a few moments to breathe.
He could hear the ghouls outside, tearing into the flesh of their fallen to get at them. “We’re trapped.” He croaked out as he began to wrap his face a bit better, tightening the ripped up undershirt around the head wounds. Morice was glad he still had his eye, despite the carved ear he could still hear. Morice felt like it was a blessing from some deity that was looking out for him.
A caw turned his head over like a whip, his neck almost feeling like he tore something in it with how fast he had done it. There on top of Vlad’s still form were his two bone ravens, no just one. His vision had doubled after the blow he had taken and the suddenness of turning his head.
Once more the raven cawed at Morice and Charon, it’s eyes shining with a pale ethereal blue.
“I will unleash the ones within my ring.” A voice suddenly came out from the raven. A smooth yet a deep bass as if this crow had seen the world’s very birth and wished to feast on the carcass at its death. A ring was wrapped around it’s middle left talon and from it sprang Abhorash, Vashanesh as well as the other forces that Vlad had left within it.
Vashanesh had created a large staff with a small column of skulls, like a light great hammer or something of the sort. Then the skulls morphed and turned to a large axe blade with two skeletal hands going along the blunt part of the blade to come together to grip what seemed like a dagger or pick. This edge came out behind most likely to give the halberd its armour piercing point. The skulls forming in the blade as if it was containing the souls he had slain.
Abhorash stood tall, his armour now similar to almost bat-like wings across his shoulders ending in a tattered cloak he did not have last time he had seen the undead warrior. An almost imperceptible flicker of blue flames licked along the blade of his large red steel greatsword. The two and a half meter tall warrior didn’t say a thing but the two empty armours on either side of him moved in unison. Silently moving toward the crumbling stopgap in the hallway.
With great snarls of joy and hunger the ghouls moved and ripped through the bodies of their dead only to be met by the stride of the three full-plated warriors who began to hack away at them. Their claws and teeth breaking upon the hardened unnatural steel that covered them while great swings from Abhorash sent the ghouls flying backwards or sent them crashing into the ground.
Swiping their blades up and down along the hallway the three knights of death turned the hallway and the small open area outside it.
Before long the three juggernauts had sent the ghouls fleeing, screeching in terror at the three metal men who had just gone through their number like scythes through wheat. Behind them Vashanesh sent out the occasional screaming blue fire skull made with a soul of one of their number, setting the ghouls very soul alight, leaving the corpse left to be harvested for the Necrotechs purposes.
Raising his hands the Necrotech seemed to begin to draw in something, it began with slight distortions around the corpses before shadowy tendrils shot out and began to coalesce within the undeads palm. “I cannot believe his dreams spoke the truth.” Vashanesh breathed almost in awe as he gathered the souls of the masses of killed ghouls into a singular rhombus-shaped near diamond though it wasn’t shaped much like a diamond. It was jagged, with spikes coming out of its sides yet all were angled either up or down depending on where they came out, with the equator of the crystal controlling the angle it seemed.
Morice was awestruck at the sight before him. Vlad had made something that sent shivers down his spine in excitement. He hoped so much that he could make such minions for himself and through that bring about such power.
But at the back of his mind, he knew he had to become something much more than he already was. He’d require a self-made rebirth of sorts.
With a deep breath he sheathed his own sword and wade forth to speak with Abhorash. “Thank you for your hel-” His voice was cut off as a metal-clad fist wrapped around his neck and raised him up into the air. The blue flames serving as Abhorash’s eyes piercing and unrelenting.
“What happened to my master?” He asked with such venom that Morice’s body almost went rigid with fear. The warrior had his legs scrambling against the floor trying to get his legs under him to prevent him from chocking from the steel grip around his neck.
Morice feared he’d be killed at that moment if it wasn’t for Charon’s hand upon Abhorash’s arm which caused the warrior to lower Morice down enough to stand at least. “He kept the master safe while...” He stopped and gestured towards Vlad still lying form. “That happened to him. Neither of us know what is wrong but… search your link with our master. It is strange is it not?” Charon’s voice saw calm and both undead stared into one another’s eyes for a few moments. The air around them pregnant with tension.
Morice drew in a deep breath as the iron grip around his neck was released and he fell back on his backside. He coughed as he rubbed his neck, the pain flaring in his neck and the wounds upon his face and the three tears in his ear. “This is strange.” Vashanesh’s voice came from behind him, turning his head he saw Morice looking over Vlad’s body with the air of a scholar looking over a conundrum.
“What...” He coughed. “What is?” Morice managed as he moved back to Vashanesh, not wishing to get near the temperamental Abhorash. The warrior was still staring down Charon, the two still like statues.
“He should be awake but something is keeping him under.” Vashanesh said as he waved his hand around Vlad’s head. “Something that formed a bond with him before any of us was made.” He said before he brought his hand back up to his chin as he seemed deep in thought.
Morice stared a little before coughing a bit more, his airway still felt tight. “Do the names O‘Malley, Sutekh and Verona mean anything to you?” Morice repeated the question Charon had asked him, given that Vashanesh was a much more mystical and magically orientated minion he figured he might know.
Vashanesh hummed a little, tapping his index finger against his jaw as he thought. “I feel I should know those names, they feel rather familiar but I can’t quite place the names.” He soon turned his hand from his chin and jaw to begin scratching at his scalp.
“It doesn’t matter, this place is crawling with these… things.” Abhorash said as he strode into the chamber and kicked one of the ghoul corpses to the side, sending it skiting across the floor to impact with the right-hand wall. “We need to clear out any threats towards our master.” He then said as he almost slammed his sword down onto the ground and stared both Morice and Vashanesh down with his cold blue stare.
“Hmm that is a good idea...” Vashanesh said as he looked towards Garm and his pack, who still surrounded the coffin which Vlad lay upon. “Garm, could you loan Abhorash two of your pack?” He asked courteously and got a nod from Garm, two growls later two of his pack stood on either side of Abhorash.
With a sharp barked out order Abhorash left two of his knights on either side of the entrance along with the archer to stay behind in the chamber, leaving those three with Vashanesh, Morice and Garm and two of his pack.
Taking the two lesser Ushabti, the two skeleton warriors and the two skeletal trollings with himself. While ordering Charon to take with him the two lesser Ironflesh Ushabti as well as the two Ghostly squires and two Ghostly howlers.
With that they split up to clear out the hallways of ghouls, Abhorash simply nodding stoically as Vashanesh asked him to bring back all of the corpses he made immediately so that he could take the souls before they departed.
Charon on the other hand simply nodded to Morice and left with his force. Both squads got a single of Garm’s Bone wargs for company.
Morice let out a deep breath as both left. “You know it’s like he gets more intense the longer he’s around.” He sighed as he gestured with his eyes towards where Abhorash took his troops.
Vashanesh chuckled with mirth. “It does seem like that doesn’t it.” He said, his emaciated leathery like face cracking a smile. “I feel he is simply trying to do something in the situation. Much like me, he is powerless to help our master as neither of us knows what is going on. It is rather frustrating, perhaps he is simply trying to do what he can to protect our master.”
With that Morice and Vashanesh returned to Vlad’s side and while the undead Necrotech fussed around with Vlad’s still form, Morice simply sagged against the stone sarcophagus Vlad lay on.
He let out a long exhale as he almost tapped the back of his head against the sarcophagus while he thought. Then as his mind worked with what he could do he eyed the corpses of the Ghouls and remembered what Vlad had taught him, along with the time they had made the dread wolves.
He only had three of those left now and he grimaced at how badly damaged they all were. They wouldn’t last much longer. Standing up he commanded them to charge down the third and last hallway that neither Abhorash or Charon had taken. With the express orders to kill anything, they come across in their search of the Necroshade’s lair.
With that done he looked towards Vashanesh. “You can shape bone right?” He asked and then when the Necrotech nodded at him he gestured towards the ghoul corpses. “Then I’d like to ask for your help. I want to make more minions to help out but I feel I’ll need your help to combine or shape some of the bones for what I have in mind.”
With that the two got to work, Vashanesh elongating and moulding the bones as Morice described what he wanted to try and create. Morice, on the other hand, moved to strip flesh and muscles from many of the ghouls. As he opened up one of the ghoul's bellies he noticed the intestines and thought back to how effective Charon’s bone whips had been.
However, Morice didn’t want to simply copy Vlad’s creations so he decided on something else, stringing the intestines of four ghouls together with flesh crafting he moved on to apply the muscle fibres on the two skeletons that Morice had made.
The work was time-consuming and Morice and Vashanesh had to take breaks every so often when their internal mana was empty or in Morice’s case his stamina ran out. It must have been almost two hours or so when Morice raised the two creations up with both him and Vashanesh smiling at the result.
The two stood on four legs, reminiscent of spider legs though each leg ended in a sharp point as the bone came out of the flesh around it. From the waist up the creatures had a spine and ribcage made up of the very same components blended together from three ghoul corpses. The belly was wide open and two spindly arms came out from the belly, holding onto what looked like bone hooks.
From the broad shoulders came two arms ending in four fingers that held sharp bone claws coming out of the fingertips.
On top of the shoulders was the repurposed skull of one of his fallen doom wolves through the maw opened down the middle of the lower jaw. Allowing for almost a mandible like bite though each of the bones was much denser than they should normally be, the muscles themselves were as dense as Morice could manage with flesh crafting while still making the creature's flesh seem almost spindly.
Looking at the broad chest he smiled, inside was the intestines that connected to the bone hooks held by the two small spindly arms coming out of the belly. With that, it should be able to hook in an enemy and pull them close to the four much stronger clawed arms coming out of its shoulder socket and the shoulder blade socket Vashanesh had made.
These were abominations focused on brute strength with claws for fingers and stakes for legs, as well as a rope-like attack to draw in its foes. Morice was proud of his work though when he tried to actually raise the creatures he found he wasn’t powerful enough.
Both him and Vashanesh were disappointed at that. Both groaning a little in frustration over not being able to see these creatures in action. “So I guess I’ll have to make something smaller huh.” Morice groaned as he looked up at the nearly three-meter tall creatures he had made. Using both doom wolf corpses up entirely in creating these ones.
“So it seems, perhaps you could make something that would accompany or even swarm around these two?” Vashanesh asked as he tapped on his chin. Morice stared at him with a raised eyebrow.
“And how would they look?” He asked with confusion. He couldn’t really wrap his mind around it before Vashanesh pointed at one of the ghouls and then brought his index and thumb fingers up, slowly bringing them together but stopping halfway. Morice began to laugh. “So smaller ghouls huh?” He chuckled.
The two got to work soon after, finishing up the process an hour later as the doom wolves, Abhorash and Charon’s squads as well.
Morice had managed to put his new forces into his storage ring as he had yet to raise them all. Once they had all gotten together, Abhorahs and Charon having brought along quite a few ghoul corpses. They got to work pealing skin, undoing flesh from bone and sorting bones to be placed in storage rings, satchels and bags that they had access to.
Dust even helped, though after his first time speaking he hadn't said a word, simply perched on top of Vlad’s chest the entire time. He simple flapped his wings a little to jump over and began to put all the materials into his ring.
“So what now? I know Master wishes to utilize the Necroshade for his own purposes but what are we to do with him in this state?” Vashanesh asked with both worry and frustration in his voice. Much like Morice, he had forgotten his worry and frustration of helplessness while they worked but now it all came back once they had to make a decision. At least so Morice thought.
“We have cleared out quite a bit of the ghoul population around this area.” Abhorash said as he looked at the corpses that had been separated into materials.
“That is rather strange though.” Morice said as he thought about it more clearly now. “A ghoul population of this size would require quite a bit of corpses to feast on otherwise it would spill up towards the streets as they did when they attacked the black market.” He said as he remembered the small number of ghouls that had gotten to the surface during that time.
“Perhaps they are at that threshold and the Necroshade has only been keeping them back until he’s ready to strike?” Charon asked and they all fell silent at that thought.
“He shouldn’t be now, we have already ripped through much of his ghouls I suspect.” Abhorash said with an almost scoff.
“Perhaps, or that these are the chaff.” Vashanesh pointed out and they all looked from one to another.
“If what you say is true then we have to take out those forces.” Morice began to say.
“Why? So the mortals in the city above can be safe?” Abhorash almost spat.
“No, So that Akasha will be safe.” Morice said almost venomously, he hadn’t even realized he had such venom in him. “Vlad took her in, do you think he’ll be happy if she dies because none of you stepped in to try and prevent her death?” He asked and all the undead seemed to fidget a little, clearly uneasy at the thought.
“Then you shall go and kill him.” A cold voice came from behind Morice and he froze. Turning around he saw Vlad had raised himself up but something was off.
His eyes didn’t hold that mischievous or joking air the used to have like he knew a joke that would make you laugh but didn’t want to tell it. No, now those eyes didn’t even seem to hold any emotion left as he rose up and stood up fully.
Without anyone moving he gripped the soulstone Vashanesh had created and moulded off a part of it which he then used to create a stylized dragon’s head as the pommel of his long sword. He then turned his eyes at his minions and Morice. “Have you found him?” He asked and the lack of emotion made Morice swallow in unease.
This wasn’t the Vlad he knew, this was something else, something cold, cunning and calculating. Something that would not only go through what Vlad had told Morice he was planning on doing but would burn the entire world if it meant it would only get the job done that much faster.
Then those eyes softened a little and Vlad placed his hand on Morice’s shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for me and Akasha. Now I’ve slept long enough, lets get this Necroshade out of my hair so I can get out of this damned city.” He said as he moved out of the sepulchral room a sudden urgency in his movements.
Yet when he reached the intersecting halls he looked down the one where the Necroshade had gone down and began to walk, almost leisurely towards it. A whistle coming to his lips, a haunting tune as Vlad descended into the halls of the catacombs.
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[Participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge] Dungeons. Everyone's heard of them. Sprawling maze-like places where you can find special objects that can't be found anywhere else in the world, train to become a great warrior or wizard, and slay dozens of monsters. Drops! Loot! Glory! What more could you want? Dungeons are places of danger and adventure, full of thrills and maybe even romance, where people enter as your normal and everyday person but leave as a hero. Even a child knows what a dungeon is! A dungeon is controlled and ruled over by its Dungeon Core, a mana crystal that's gained sentience, and with it a mind just as twisted as the home that it makes for itself. Dungeon Cores all have very simple wants and needs: to expand and to devour, and to that end, they'll do absolutely everything and anything within their power. Everyone knows that. Sometimes, though? Sometimes the Dungeon Core doesn't know that. Sometimes they wake up all alone, confused and with no clue what they should do, and find themselves quickly becoming the home to a family of badgers and other creatures. The Dungeon Core can be left struggling to figure out their role in the world and how exactly they're supposed to achieve it. They're really doing their best, and you shouldn't judge them for it! The badger thing was a complete mistake but there's just no way they can turn back and fix it so they're just trying to make do, okay?! What would you do in their situation?! Cover art was made with pixel assets from Szadi art and 0x72.
8 262The Elements: Silver Coin Saga - Book 1
Death comes with the Harvest. Salvation lies in the Valley of the Moon, along the path of Martial Magic. Xan always assumed he would be apprenticed to an herbalist in the sleepy village of Mogu and follow the Path of Peace, just like his father before him. It is the way—has always been the way. But when his village is sacked by a raiding force of vicious monsters, corrupted by dark Qi, life as Xan knows it is over. Family dead. Villagers slain. His home burnt to ash. Now, all Xan wants to do is figure out why his people were targeted and get revenge on the merciless creatures sweeping across the continent like a plague of locusts. Spreading their vile corruption. His only hope at salvation and retribution lies in the Valley of the Moon, at the fabled Xing Yi School of Martial Magic. If he is to succeed, he will need to learn to cultivate the energy of the elements, hone his martial and crafting skills, and complete the school’s harsh tests and trials. It will take more than a passing grade at this school, though, and not all that fail survive the experience…
8 103ANTIMATTER D
My appearance is off-putting, my power is creepy, but I want to be a hero. Dyzxalaxyzk, or "D" for short, is in his last year of school. After getting his first taste of saving people, he wishes to become a hero. However, this task is hampered by his appearance: he wears a threatening hood and scarf, which lightly obscure the pure black void with two big round white eyes he calls a face. At 17, he is at the last possible age for him to develop his powers. One boring day, while shopping at a small grocery store, an incident occurs...
8 85Star Ocean
A space cadet crash lands onto a world unknown to him. Join his struggles as he tries to find a way home------------------------------------------------------------------------------Authors note: I decided to continue this concept. I'm not really good at writing. I just have some few ideas that I want to bring to life. Also, patience is not my virtue so I tend to overpower my characters too quickly. Please feel free to leave comments of your thoughts so that i may avoid this.
8 211The Dancer || PJM ✓
[Depressing, Abusive and emotional]"pleasing everyone... who pleases you then?"THIS STORY HAS VERY SHORT CHAPTERS AND HAS SENSITIVE TOPICSA Park Jimin Fanfiction ❤️Started: 1 January 2020Ended: 10 February 2020
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