《Ephemeral Cycle》----- Chapter 18
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(I’ll preface this chapter will letting anyone reading up to point that the name Ulfer was changed to get away from too many blatantly obvious references, Ulfer->Alfre
ie: the joys of adding unplanned content *Sigh*
While it isn’t anything big, it’s something I feel the need of letting you know about, basically it’s just chap 15 that’s affected, but to those that snuck in I’m sorry :/)
Getting so far as to end of the nearly fluorescent glowing ore, Andrew turned back around. Idle curiosity is what largely drove him at this point. However, it was something he wanted to check out.
Returning to the door, he checked his inventory screen, withdrawing the arrows for his bow. Leaving them floating in mid air for the moment, he looked towards the door and pressed his hand against to cold, hard inky metal.
With a simple thought, he tried to store it into his inventory, before a notification flashed in front of his face. Placing it, he sighed loudly before turning around.
The object you are currently trying to store is considered locked. In order to store this object you must first unlock it.
Rounding the corner he found is target. A small, slightly bent latch that was currently covering the doors frame. With a simple twist of his wrist, he unlocked the door and placed it into his inventory.
Knowing only that it was hard enough to stop his ax, he decided it was worth it in exchange for a couple dozen stolen arrows. As he thought about looking it over in his inventory he heard the arrows fall and the goblin calling out for him. Putting it off until later, he moved forward once again.
Meeting up with the goblin who seemed confused about his sudden disappearance, Andrew just shrugged off any questions that were called out out to him.
Completely outside of the white glowing ores, they were subjected to the dull orange torch light from the ores embedded in the ceilings. With just enough light to see, but not enough to make out the finer details, they walked past hoping their eyes would adapt to this lighting once again.
With the cavernous room in sight, Andrew started to think about the way back to the surface. While it was all hypothetical and largely unlikely to come to fruition, it was the only thing he could do to not become agitated because of the situation.
A few steps from entering the room, Andrew felt an impact, and then another. And finally another until Taryk stepped to side of him raining blow after blow unto the inukshuk hanging from the ceiling.
With the intense pain caused by what is essentially three straight mace blows to the chest, Andrew became furious. Not entirely from the damage, but also the notification that forcibly opened up in the corner of his vision before disappearing again.
The current chest armor, Wolf Fur Half Cuirass of the Western Wind, has lost all of its durability. As consideration to the Player it may still be used as clothing for a short period of time, however, upon removal it will cease to exist. All bonuses attributed to this piece of armor have been removed.
Literally taking the mace from Taryk’s still moving hands, Andrew kept pummeling the head and shoulders of the creatures until it turned into a fine floating mist of dust. As the legs could no longer attack from such a position, they moved from the ceiling to the floor seamlessly. Charging at the man, they moved forward in an attempt to tackle to furious target.
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With one hand grabbing the mace and another stopping the charge with his bare hand, Andrew held it down and started hammering at the struggling statue. As dust and sludge flowed from the statue, it eventually came to a halt. But Andrew, on the other hand, did not.
With every hit from the dwarven mace the rocky casing cracked and split. When the cracks became too deep they shattered and fell off the body - only to become the next targets in his fury. With no trace of its existence and deep holes in the cavern floor, did he finally stop.
“I just got that armor like eight hours ago and now it’s ruined,” seethed Andrew, before giving a serious look to Taryk speaking, “Taryk, as soon as we get back to the camp we are going to send an expedition to kill even single one of those fucking things. Nothing less than complete extermination. Maybe you’ll become some gob’ general in the process, but it will happen.”
Although Taryk say the grim determination in Andrew’s eyes, he knew it was only a matter of time before it would pass. Without a target in front of him to exact his anger on, it would likely dissipate soon for Andrew.
Agreeing somewhat reluctantly he said, “Yeah, sure Boss,” however, he didn’t look Andrew in the eye.
Still fuming, Andrew recalled the room, “you know those statues, who is to say they didn’t have a part with the women before they were converted? Or hell, they could just be the dogs brought back to life themselves. Surely such a thing is alright to leave alone, hey?”
Stunned by his words, Taryk nodded with determination and hatred coursing through his eyes as he took a long pondering side-glance at the fine dust.
After kicking the dust that was once a animated statue, Andrew and Taryk left to see the centre of the room. Looking around with a intense glare, he tried to locate the two that caused him to lose his eye.
With a malicious smile creeping on his face he spotted them on their stomachs. A quick kick to the side propelled one up into the air. Seeing it fall further away from him, stalling momentarily, he sighed. The other wasn’t any different. Unfortunately for Andrew, the two captives left the world with a pool of black and brown blood.
Peering to outskirts of the cavern, Andrew searched for a way out of the room. While he immediately remembered the crack in the wall, another trek of that proportion isn’t something the two would like to sign up for. As this was a base of operation, Andrew figured that there must be a convenient way either up to the surface or merely someway to move to a higher floor of the mine.
Pacing through the room in at least three revolutions at this point, looking for a clue or secret exit. After the forth, however, he did ignore his pride, asking the goblin, “Hey, know any way to get out, secret stairwell, ladder, elevator maybe?”
“Evelator? What the hell? Why would I know where something is if I don’t know that something is? Boss, did that last bastard hit you on the head or something?” Questioned Taryk in genuine confusion.
“A. Way. The. Hell. Out. That’s all I want, well, obviously there’s more though that’s priority number one,” sighed Andrew intentionally using slow, concise words as his sarcastic personality surfaced more over the last few days.
“Oh, why didn’t you just say so,” spoke Taryk as he tilted his head, shrugging his shoulders after a brief moment of silence, he continued, “I thought you wanted to go back for the two rock kitties, anyways just between the white and orange light. Ah! You’re half blind, right? That makes sense then!”
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“Why are do you seem so happy about that…? Whatever, let’s just go.”
This time following Taryk, Andrew intentionally tapped the walls every now and again in hopes of drawing out another statue. However, they never came. With the two trudging over towards the laboratory for a few minutes, they reached border between the two lights.
Sure enough, as soon as the two made it to the border of the light Andrew came to see the small passageway between two half-rotted wooden joists. Being a few feet wide and leading the two into a small, rickety ladder.
Although somewhat hesitant to use such an old device, the two quickly got over such a feeling. With the simultaneous rumbling of their stomachs, matching the ever-present rumblings of the cave, they store their gear in Andrew’s inventory and moved upwards.
With the goblin in the lead, Andrew kept climbing for about a minute’s time until he went too far in the growing darkness.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, one don’t stop without saying anything; two, you really need to wear clothes now, I’ve decided for you. A lesser man would have already thought to kill themselves if they headbutted a goblin’s asshole,” spoke Andrew dramatically, irritable still, he was longing for the cool, clean breeze of the outside air and bountiful sunlight so he wasn’t truly anything more than annoyed.
“Hey, I ran into something up there too.”
“Then open it up?”
“Tryin’ ‘ta, just won’t go,” spoke Taryk as he demonstrated a knock on the wooden barrier.
Sighing slightly, Andrew grabbed Taryk’s mace from his inventory before handing it up to the goblin wordlessly. With a few taps - that quickly became full force blows - the wooden barrier was reduced to splinters, cascading over the two as it fell.
What finally greeted them was the sweet smell of the summer air and the starlit sky casting a deep sense of finality for the two, both muttered at nearly the same time, “it’s over…”
While Taryk’s voice trailed off listing the near endless list of food would eat at the next opportunity and investing in a small bag to bring snacks along, Andrew stared off into the starry sky from his position on the ladder.
After roughly thirty seconds of the goblin's unmoving body and complete nonsensical babbling, Andrew got fed up with his position underneath the goblin and simply shoved him out.
Flying about five metres in the air up and away from the vertical shaft, the goblin screamed, “WHY?!”
Indifferently speaking, “you took far, far too long. Instead of planning these little food endeavours just do it, well, it was mostly because you were blocking me as well.”
Seeing the indignant behaviour of the goblin after he spoke, Andrew laughed happily. Stretching out slightly, he noticed a small fire slowly reducing itself to embers far in the distance.
Out of curiosity, he left the goblin who was still muttering something or another and paced over to the campfire - with his ax now in his hands.
As a precaution, he hefted the massive ax up unto his shoulder and continued his walk towards the fire. On the way he saw a few critters, which we could likely shoot down at a moment’s notice, however, he put it off for later.
As he approached the two make-shift bed rolls, he noticed the fragrant smell coming from the campfire. At this point, he completely disregarded any pretense of stealth or caution in favor of checking out the food that seemed to be on display.
With a slight stirring, that Andrew disregarded, he crept closer and closer to the small copper pot. However, as he was about to reach it he felt a soft thud on his arm. Confused, he looked down to see an elven arrow sticking out of his forearm and a quivering elf who seemed half angry and half terrified.
Speaking in a low, deep voice, “Now, why would you do that? Please elaborate, or I can always test this ax out of you too.”
As he pointed the ax towards the elf, clearing any distance she may have had to the advantage of, he noticed her tears pour down. Stuttering, “I-I-It isn’t like that, I swear! I-I just thought you were some bandit, not a demon - nope, not at all! Like, y-you can do whatever you want to me, but leave the boy! He’s only a child!”
“That one, oh I was under the impression that he was about fifteen or sixteen, not some ‘child’ as you seem to put it,” spoke Andrew while maintaining his icy facade.
“H-How did you…?! GODS SAVE ME FROM THIS BEAST!” Crying out pitifully she fired arrow after arrow at Andrew, who simply sidestepped, blocked, or leaned away from each projectile.
After her quiver was empty he spoke with a light-hearted smile, “‘tis a shame, you know? Ending such a skilled archer, the -”
“ANDREW WHERE YOU AT?!” Called Taryk, who completely broke Andrew’s attempt to mess with the poor Lisia. Laughing loudly he waved his massive ax in a small greeting, scaring the elf even more, until she came to.
“Andrew…? It’s been half a day and you’ve turned into some monster… How the… No, I refuse to think about it. It’s you, right?” Tried Lisia through an adorable pout and indignant exasperation as the tears slowly stopped pouring out.
“Yeah, please make me some - well, a lot of - food for when I come back,” laughed Andrew as he set off once more.
“Wait, you’re leaving already?!”
“Yeah, some unfinished business to do.”
Without another word he swallowed the entire vat of lukewarm soup still on the embers, burning his hands and mouth somewhat, and set off towards the mouth of the mine.
Seeing Andrew leave Taryk began to follow, however, the now completely empty pot caught his eye and he himself ran into the forest.
Lisia, completely stunned, didn’t know what to do so she simply sighed and picked up her fallen bow and began plucking the arrows she fired at Andrew only moments before. As she finished up her task, Andrew entered the pitch-black cave.
Giving himself a moment to adjust to the darkness, he left the caves mouth and started for the storeroom.
In just a few minutes he opened up the latched door and greeted the blind old man.
“Hey, how are you old man?” Spoke Andrew jovially as he leaned his ax on his shoulder.
“I’m good, or well as good as one can expec-”
Before the blind, old man had a chance to finish, Andrew cleaved through his body with the massive ax, leaving two halves twitching on the ground and a pool of blood expanding quickly from where he lay.
“Bastard, all I wanted was some treasure and you had to try to kill me - indirectly, admittedly, but still,” said Andrew with a satisfied smirk on his face.
It was at this point that a notification forced itself into his sight, reading:
Congratulations, you have completed a Hidden Quest.
In retaliation to the less than desireable outcome of the quest, in which Alfre the Blind had inflicted unto the Player due to his information, the Player had decided to end his quest line with his life as the catalyst.
Title Granted: the Wayward
Due to killing a main quest supplier, the Northern Territories will no longer have an ability to transform its citizens into a force that can reasonably resist against the waves of the future. Be weary when travelling this area as hidden dangers may now appear at any time.
As the Player killed the Mage who inflicted great pain and suffering on the local creatures, he may be seen as both a hero and a villain for what is to come. As the Mage was beginning his path of redemption, his life was cut short. His death will deal a large blow to the fighting strength of the creatures in the North.
Additionally any creature he once created in now forever stricken; bound to their fate for generations to come as the knowledge of the “Gaia” spell is seemingly lost from the world.
In the future the Northern Players’ actions will determine the course of the future. Without a local driving force to prevent their future few will survive. Pray that they will stand with the citizens to combat the future hordes. Should they not…
Title Granted: Renegade
Title Merge: the Wayward Renegade
Scoffing at the notion that the blind old Mage was that important for the future, Andrew merely looked over his body. As his body was severed from his head to tail-bone, no clothing was even remotely salvageable. However, Andrew saw a small silver key glimmering off in the distance from his body. Taking a quick glance at it, he was reminded of the cages in which the goblin women, dogs, cats, and all other manner of critters now lay abandoned or deceased.
Even so, he did pocket the key should it it turn out to be important later on.
Feeling his irritation surge he tried to press it down, but he could not. Venting out his agitation on the thin wooden walls covering the interior of the storeroom, Andrew swung his blade.
It took about five minutes of methodically smashing, cleaving and otherwise destroying the small room to calm down. When he did, however, he was greeted with a strange sight.
Behind the wooden walls of the desk, now turned into mere planks covered with iridescent flames from the shattered oil lamps, stood a inky black door.
Completely disregarding the reason why a blind man would need light, Andrew jumped over the small flames to front of the door. Instead of testing the key he just received, he cleaved through the walls beside it.
After a few more swings, a dark room was revealed. Although the flames cast small shadows dancing around into the room, not much else could be seen in his cursory glance. Sighing slightly, he walked further into the room and waited for his eye to adjust to the new lighting.
Within thirty seconds he was able to see the complete room. Similar to the size of the room he just devastated, it only held one object.
A large silver chest lined with inky corners and a dark keyhole lay in the centre of the dark room. With dust, blood, and sludge coating the once pristine key when he put it into his pocket, he simply inserted the key and turned.
Given that he was expecting gold, silver, jewels, or at least weapons, he was sorely disappointed. However, it still didn’t stop him from reaching into the chest.
That is, of course, until he saw the contents laying on the bottom of the chest. At that point, he pulled his hand back and merely tossed his bow next. Withdrawing the entire chest into his inventory, he turned to leave - grabbing the second door on his way out. Advertisement Support "Ephemeral Cycle" PayPal Patreon Previous
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Chapter RSS About the author 3 Fictions 65 Posts 2 Threads Ambush Follow Author Monday, January 4, 2016 11:22:15 PM Canada Shy Penguin
Bio: Chronic Inability to Finish Stories; CIFS for short. A major affliction that has gripped me in its steely maw for weeks, months, and (shivers) shows no sign of stopping.
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