Niko and what was left of the defending teams stood together along a freshly cobbled together defensive structure. It wasn’t much more than spare bricks and wood, melded together wherever possible by geomancers and whatever alchemical compounds were on hand for construction. It wasn’t anything that Niko would call stable, but then, the carts from before weren’t exactly great to use for defense either.

The gathered combatants weren’t looking outwards, though, instead they looked inwards, eyes drawn to a many-hosed contraption that linked several tanks together that was being sealed beneath slabs of granite and metal. It looked almost like a flower, what with how the metal base held concentric rings of canisters just below a series of broad nozzles. As the last piece of stone was set into place atop, though, Niko thought it looked something more like a furnace with a chimney sticking out of it, albeit said chimney had many, many holes in it. Only one small part of the contraption had nothing covering it, a protruding foot of sorts that extended outwards and had what looked to be wooden handles. It was connected via a large hose that vaguely looked like it was made of rubber to Niko, and ran the length all the way uphill near to their position higher up in the tunnel thirty meters away and towards their defenses.

There, the alchemists lined up around the device, with Mithel taking position at the end of the line, given her unique pattern that allowed her to enhance her alchemy. If it worked on the poison, then their plan would be even more secure.

Niko privately hoped it didn’t work too well. He had no idea what kind of gas they were planning on using, but considering what he knew of the Dawr Goblins, they couldn’t afford to have them remain under the city.

“Beginning activation,” Mithel called aloud, and to Niko’s eyes the gathered alchemists began to glow with a steady stream of essence. It left their bodies, trailed down through their hands and into the wooden handles before traveling further into the machine downhill. To everyone else, nothing was happening, but Niko could visibly see the essence as it filled the tanks and began to react with what was inside. It looked like the essence had changed color, going from an amber tone to something dark red and flecked with what almost appeared to be black diamonds. It was beautiful in a way that seemed ghastly.

“Yup, that looks pretty feathering dangerous.” Niko said, halfway trying to make light of what he was seeing, halfway horrified at what that might do to something.

“I don’t know what poison we’re using,” Ronald said quietly, “I think that’s on purpose.”

“For something along the lines of plausible deniability, you think?” Dachna asked, “Because I don’t personally know of any poisons that can keep a stretch of the underground clear like this is supposed to.”

Skye whispered, “There’s a few that I can think of, but none of which I would hope are in those canisters.”

“So, what, can you just make horrible stuff like this in any lab?” Niko asked, noting a similarly trepid expression on Sasha and Thokk.

The others were quiet at that, either uncertain of the answer, or unwilling to voice it. Niko hoped that making this stuff wasn’t easy, but if there was anything his past life had taught him, it was that horrible things could be achieved with a quick trip to a home and garden store.

“Alright, the mixture is… stable.” Mithel said, hesitating briefly as she swallowed hard. Now that Niko was looking more at them, he realized each of them had grown somewhat pale, maybe even a little ill. They used a considerable enough amount of essence, but not so much that they should be experiencing any side effects.

‘Then again, if whatever that is feels anything like it looks, I’m sure they’re not so happy to be anywhere near it.’ Niko reasoned as they began to regulate how much essence they fed into the thing.

“Alright, I’m going to spark the reaction, everyone else let go and back off.” Mithel called out, and the alchemists with her backed away with what Niko was going to call ‘Professional Relief’ for how quickly they complied with her command.

‘Sweet Alterra, it’s being treated like it’s radioactive or something,’ Niko shivered at the thought, as he watched Mithel standing on her own.

“Beginning Enhancement, notify the forward team that they need to start evacuating.” Mithel called out loudly.

“But they were only going to start leaving after half an hour?...” One of the younger alchemists started, but then trailed off, seeing the grave expressions on his other, older compatriots.

Mithel looked back, before meeting eyes with each of the Wyldwalkers. Niko hadn’t ever personally seen the expression on anyone, but it was what he’d imagined someone might look like when they were about to do something they knew wasn’t conscionable. If it weren’t for the dire necessity, they wouldn’t do this at all.

“I’ll do it,” Ronald said.

Mithel nodded to him as he began to connect through his communication crystal, a direct link to the forward team. While he did that, Mithel took a deep breath, and Niko saw the pattern in her body light up brightly. Almost as if in opposition to that, Niko watched the dark red energy consume the black diamonds, the umbral shade rippling throughout the color. In seconds, it stabilized back into a bizarre vermillion that was brighter than both the original colors. Whereas the previous energy seemed to churn sluggishly, this mixture rolled around like an underwater cloud of satin and silk, smooth and more than willing to blanket outwards.

“Turning on the sigils,” Mithel called out, “From this point onward, do not approach this tunnel for any reason, even if the alternative is potentially life threatening.”

No one said anything as the few visible sigils on the outer shell of the device flared brightly for a second. Additional sigils that were carved into the walls came alive, and Niko noticed that the draft was blowing just that much more strongly into the tunnel, ‘A backup… ? Just in case a wayward draft were to blow this back in our face?’ Niko guessed, but before he could inspect anything further, Mithel spoke again.

“Initiating deployment,” Mithel declared quickly, before Niko saw her pulse her essence, shoving a larger quantity into the mixture. The moment she did so, she fled backwards at a dead sprint.

Whatever delicate balance had been maintained before, it exploded now. Agitated by the sigils, the compound fountained outwards with the addition of the last bit of essence. A vermillion haze of gas flooded out of the chimney, spreading rapidly. For a second, Niko thought it was going to surge right up the tunnel towards them, before the sigils on the ground flared once more and slowed the gas. It almost looked predatory as it pushed against the sigil-made forcefield and breeze towards the only living things in proximity to it.

But as the vermillion gas lost more momentum, it began to be pulled more towards the other direction, the leading plume spreading out. As it did, Niko heard crackling sounds, and was startled to realize that the gas was reacting with the stone of the tunnel walls. Reddish crystals formed rapidly like thin nails, first, and then fanned out into seashell-like formations. It picked up speed as it went, and in the time that Niko was observing the surroundings of the machine, it had already slipped out of sight around a bend in the tunnel.

“It looks… Pretty?” Skye frowned, “Mithel, do you know what that stuff is?”

Mithel stood up, pale and shaking, before shaking her head vigorously, “No idea. I just pushed the efficacy higher. Just… seriously, don’t go down there. For any reason. I don’t even know how long that stuff will stay in the environment.” Mithel shook as she spoke, “I feel disgusting.”

Dachna stepped in to hug her, and Mithel leaned into it. Niko turned back to the sight down the tunnel, more and more gas flowed onward, seemingly at a faster rate, even, as the chemical and essence reactions chained together. Whatever was happening, even the essence in the area was being changed in color, and when it did it suddenly stopped moving, crystallizing into the formations he could see all along the walls.

“The team is getting out, I’ve told them what we’re seeing here, and they seem to think that there’s… nothing that is going to be able to get at us on this side.” Ronald cleared his throat, “The townspeople are being evacuated down here as we speak. We’re to hold this position to ensure that the machine isn’t damaged and to let the forward team in through the other tunnel. Any Dawr Goblins that remain are going to be hunted by the relief teams as they get down here.”

“Good… I’m beat,” Skye sighed, “I feel like my arms are going to fall off from all of the arrows I’ve shot today.”

Niko squawked, “My everything feels the same.”

“Man, I’m going to take a loooong nap after this.” Dachna said, “Or stuff my face first. Maybe both?”

“Both sounds good,” Mithel groaned, “Maybe–”

Screeching and shouting from the waterways interrupted Mithel, “Oh, piss, shit, and pox!” Dachna groaned, “Really? Again? Can’t they just leave us be!?”

Ronald took a deep steadying breath before stepping forward, “Everyone in position. We have all hands now. Alchemists, prepare any area-control solutions you have, we don’t need to win, we just need to hold out. The forward team will be coming around soon. Geomancers, I need a few of you sitting on the left-tunnel cap to let the forward team in when they get there, but everyone else, get ready for a fight. Try to loosen up the essence in the earth around here wherever you can, or take whatever building materials weren’t used. Everything else is routine, I don’t need to tell you all how to kill goblins,” Ronald planted the butt of his glaive into the ground at the middle of the wall formation, essence primed for another wall, but holding off until it was necessary.

Niko dragged himself forward, feeling no small amount of wrath towards the goblins. “Really, though, could they have just not?”

“Goblins are like that,” Sasha groused.

“It’s not like they have another exit,” Thokk extended his claws, “Now I can enjoy some of the fun. All of this construction is dulling my claws.”

Niko rolled his eyes, “You could have swapped.”

Thokk shrugged, “I was asked to help, help was given. I don’t like most humanoids, but these ones seem passable, at least.”

Niko stopped talking as the first of the goblins came charging through the waterway halls. This time, he saw no rhyme or reason to which ones came first. Goblins, hobgoblins, champions, they all moved together. If there was any upside, it was that there were only eleven champions that Niko could see.

What was not an upside was the screaming voice that drove the goblins forward, “Kill them! The Great Warrior commands it! They wish to stop the slaughter! Kill, eat, maim! Break them!”

The voice was frenetic and panicked, so much so that Niko wondered if they were under some sort of threat. ‘Then again, with this Great Warrior nonsense, maybe he is? I mean, obviously, either way we’re going to try to get rid of them. But it almost sounds like death isn’t what he’s afraid of. Right?’ Niko shook his head, ‘Ugh, for all I know that could be exactly the case.’

“The forward team is on its way,” Niko heard someone to his left say in a low, comforting tone, “We just have to hold out.”

Niko didn’t need to look to know that he wasn’t the one that was being spoken to. They were all tired, having been fighting all day long, whether against hornets or goblins. If nothing else, the above ground teams could evacuate in earnest now, so long as the gas machine didn’t go down. Honestly if someone didn’t have heavy ordnance, he didn’t think that the machine was going anywhere.

Just then, Niko’s head snapped upwards, following the sound of roaring and the bright surge of light. A fireball streaked over the goblins’ heads, and just before it hit the wall, a trio of projectiles from the defensive line intercepted it. An icicle, water bolt, and what looked to be an arrow that distorted air around it, fragmented the fireball. Instead of evaporating, though, it expanded, throwing trails of fire all across the ground and ceiling of the waterways in which it detonated. Goblins shrieked at the touch of the fire that sent cascading plumes of steam up from the water it touched, leading to even more chaos.

“Tier four!” The ice mage shouted out, face pale even as she continued, “The shaman has to be tier four!”

Niko heard Ronald curse under his breath beside him, and Niko couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. In a flurry of movement, steam, and screaming, the first goblins neared the barricade under a barrage of arrows and essence-projected strikes. Ronald was no exception, layering his shield in front of him and linking it tightly into the wall itself. He himself stood a meter behind the wall, a pale glow emanating from his glaive. With rapid stabs, he struck at the air in front of him, but on the other side of the wall, his gleaming barrier erupted outwards. A weapon much like the glaive that Ronald held in his hands, formed from the same gleaming white essence of the barrier, swiped and stabbed at the goblins in front of it. Rivulets of essence flowed from Ronald with every strike, empowering his barrier even further, but oddly enough the essence didn’t bleed away with every investment.

A second glaive joined the first, darting in and out of the shield like a spear-fisher striking at fish in a river. The goblins clamored against the barricade, only to realize that the barrier itself was making even that a far more precarious prospect.

‘That’s just dirty.’ Niko couldn’t help but shake his head in dismay, before realizing that the side closest to him was beginning to be overrun. Everyone here had an essence pattern, but not all of them were meant for repeated use throughout the day. They were effective, but efficiency in this sort of situation was a harder goal to reach for. The Wyldwalkers were odd in that, as Niko had watched them use their essence abilities all throughout the day. Others tried to use theirs sparingly, for good reason. Every activation that Niko saw, whether it be an empowerment to a weapon strike, or to a shield, bled off a large amount of essence from the user.

Such was also the case for a small team that Niko was moving to help. He could see that they were running on dregs of essence, and every faltering use of whatever abilities they had was taxing them beyond their means. Niko darted forward, empowering his Sharp Strike and slicing through the neck of a hobgoblin as it tried to mantle the rest of the barricade at the top. Even as it fell backwards, Niko had to duck a counterattack, a pattern erupting along its arms as a powerful swing carried its club through the air where his head had been.

“Sasha, Thokk, help me out here!” Niko didn’t dare try to grandstand, already seeing a pair of hobgoblins replacing the first, along with a half dozen smaller Dawr Goblins straining the team.

A snarling ball of blue-tinted fur struck atop the wall, dragging one goblin by the head in her jaws, while a second was hooked on raking claws. The pair of hobgoblins, on the other hand, suddenly found themselves sinking part way into the barrier. They screeched angrily, essence in their arms roiling as they tried to empower themselves enough to tear away from the cloying earth that was a part of the barricade they scaled. Before they could, though, the lumbering Hind Bear slammed his clawed paws down on them, crushing them against the barricade and snapping bones.

“There are many goblins,” Thokk rumbled, “I grow tired of fighting enemies whose greatest strength is numbers.”

Niko slashed another goblin, this time cracking its skull as he did so just to be certain it was down, “Well, just wait for the champions or the shaman to show–Ah, and speak of the–” He started saying, just as a champion mantled the barricade. It virtually ignored the stickiness that Thokk had conjured across the earthen wall, and much faster than Niko had expected, landed almost squarely in the middle of the group Niko was reinforcing.

“Champion!” One of the guilders shouted as they struck out with their sword, an essence pattern that felt similar to what Niko had for his beak gleaming to life in his arms. Niko didn’t think that would be nearly enough to bring it down, and was moving to follow up with the strike. The champion braced its arm, ready to accept the hit on bare flesh, confident in the bloody haze and regeneration it seemed to be provided with.

Thus, when the man’s strike barely tapped skin, all three of them were momentarily shocked. Niko could see the guilder’s essence fully deplete, and the moment when the man’s body sagged downwards like a puppet with its strings cut felt like the longest second of Niko’s life. The champion didn’t respond immediately, almost confusedly looking at its arm to see that it was utterly undamaged. Then it lifted a massive cleaver, a triumphant grin on its face as it turned its hungry gaze upon the fallen man, conscious, but utterly powerless to stop what was going to happen.

Luckily for him, Niko had already engaged his leg pattern, and blasted fully into the champion’s mid section. His beak tore through skin and fat, but the tough meat on the champion kept him from boring a hole into anything vital. Still, he scrambled atop the champion, slashing, biting, and forcing the creature off balance. A rattling blow rocked Niko’s skull as a meaty fist crashed into it, but that only increased Niko’s furious attacks. The champion tried to leverage its cleaver against Niko, and recognizing the threat, Niko tilted his head down towards the weapon’s hilt and struck with a heftily empowered Sharp Strike.

He severed several fingers, just enough that the champion lost its sturdy grip on the cleaver. Enough that the nearest guild member was able to slap the weapon out of the champion’s hand with a hammer blow.

All the while, Niko heard the champion bellowing curses as they scrambled across the ground. Niko was heavier, but not by much, and while he had his own patterns, the champion did, too. A fist crashed into his head once more, rattling his brain, just long enough that it was able to grab ahold of his neck. Niko felt its essence pattern flare to life, strengthening its arms and the rest of its body.

‘It’s trying to choke me out,’ Niko realized as he felt his throat struggling to stay open. Defiantly, Niko did his best to empower his own neck muscles, trying to compete enough to not allow the champion to simply break vertebrae. Snarling, the champion punched with its mangled right hand, hitting Niko in the body twice before the Phorus planted his clawed hands against the biceps there. A quick glance upwards told Niko that no one was going to be able to come help him–the entire barricade was being besieged at once, and fireballs were continually being intercepted, no longer doing as much damage to the goblins, but also keeping their scant few mages tied up in dealing with the tier four’s attacks.

Instead of fear, though, Niko felt a rush of adrenaline and outrage at the champion beneath him, ‘You picked the wrong bird to grapple with.’

Niko mobilized his essence as he pumped power into his legs and began to slash into the champion. It grinned at him, essence flaring across its skin as it hardened itself against attack, but Niko was unperturbed. Breathing was becoming harder, but Niko didn’t allow that to distract him. All he needed to do was keep pouring in essence, and keep kicking. Every scrape carved away more of the champion’s defensive pattern, seconds went by as the bloody haze that encompassed it shrank. Niko pressed on, and more and more haze vanished, before nearly ten seconds later the champion began to realize that something was wrong.

Niko’s patterns were essence efficient of course, but beyond that, his leg pattern was still his most prized creation. Almost all of the essence he poured into it stayed within the pattern, and with his much greater reserves than other creatures, the champion did not enjoy the advantage of essence longevity.

Niko relished in the look of surprise and then feral aggression when the champion realized that it was losing. The bloody haze fragmented as Niko’s talons scraped across flesh, and after three more seconds, cracked through the defense.

‘I guess that’s why you don’t just hold a defensive pattern up. If an attacker doesn’t have a reason to stop attacking, then it becomes a war of attrition… And, well, if you lose that, you’re just screwed.’ Niko thought back to what Camille had said about why defensive patterns were ironically one of the biggest double-edged swords you could use. As Niko felt his talons rip through the champion's stomach, his legs burning with exertion and struggling to push through every hit, he distantly thought that this would be an excellent point to bring up to Ronald later, in case he ever thought to just outlast someone.

Then the pressure on Niko’s neck relented, and he realized that he had been feeling exceedingly lightheaded. For a second, Niko blanked out, still slashing, while his Sharp Strike seemingly activated on subconscious instinct alone. He struck down with his beak, his eyesight blurry and black at the edges. It took Niko another few seconds before he simply stalled out, too exhausted to continue, and for conscious thought to fully check back in on his surroundings.

‘Oh, wow, that was… pretty close, actually.’ Niko swallowed, wincing at what he was certain was going to be a bruised neck. Though he was certain enough, Niko checked over the champion beneath him, and confirmed that the creature was very dead. He himself was filthy with gore, and disappointingly not a single shred of essence had flowed into him.

“Am I going to have to forcibly draw essence in every time I kill one of these? Ugh…” Niko shook his head in disgust, before lumbering unsteadily to his feet. He turned his eyes to the sounds of battle nearby, before realizing that the barricade was nearly broken in many places. The alchemists slung flasks of several varieties both from atop and across the roughly made wall, the acrid stink of acid and chemical reactions had pervaded the battleground and mingled with blood and the cooked scent of meat.

Staggering on his newly reopened foot wounds, Niko prepared himself to rejoin the battle lines. He knew that he was nearly tapped, and that his reserves were finally only whispering a trickle of power to him. Briefly, Niko considered all of the battles he’d had that day, and while there were places where he could have certainly been more efficient, there was only so much he could do.

It was then that the tier four decided they’d had enough, “Heretics! Meat! You will not be spared! The Great Warrior will see your flesh worn and your people shackled!” He shouted, and Niko felt what adrenaline that had still carried him onwards wane, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. The left side wall exploded, a fireball coming in from too close to stop, and Niko grimaced as several guilders and guards flew backwards, some aflame, some tumbling like ragdolls.

The shaman stood tall, somewhere between the lanky hobs and the bulky champions, covered in a hooded cowl. Niko heard the sharp intake of breaths, but he couldn’t pay any attention to them. Instead, his eyes were drawn to the bones on leather cords all across its body. Skulls, some of them clearly human, lashed together like some macabre garland, ringed the shaman’s neck, but at the lowest point there was something that drew Niko’s eye as though Dachna had placed a Lure on it.

It was a crudely made icon, a spiked fist, clenched tightly and seemed to be actively dripping with blood. Niko now recognized the touch of divinity on the thing, and felt a mixture of rage and hunger at the sight of it, clearly traceable to the blessings given to him. What was odd was that he couldn’t feel which one was the source of either respective sensation, but that didn’t matter at that moment.

The shaman’s wide, bloody eyes swept slowly across the battleground, before settling briefly on the machine deeper within dispassionately. Niko quietly swore at that, and tried to think of what he could possibly do to stop it. At least, until its eyes kept wandering, until settling upon Niko. Rage, pure and untainted, swirled across its expression, as it pointed its rough, gnarled wooden staff at Niko, a russet stone at the head of it gleaming with a bright light.

“There you are,” Niko heard the voice seeth, “Conflagrate and consume!”

Niko felt the creature's essence roil violently at the statement before rushing into the staff like a wild river, pouring into the gem.

“Oh, pluck me!” Niko squawked loudly, “Pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck meeeee!” Scrambling backwards, Niko looked for anything he could, and reached for whatever atmospheric essence he could to cram into his reserves.

The shaman’s spell howled forwards, a torrent of fire not unlike a flamethrower chasing after Niko’s escape. Fire licked at Niko’s feathers, and just as he prepared for a world of pain, he saw a sheer white shield, more like a physical barrier than an essence construct, appear between him and the flames. Ronald forced himself bellowed out, “Wyldwalkers, kill the shaman!”

“Fool! You cannot stop–” The Dawr Shaman began, only to be interrupted as a particularly shiny object flew at his face. The shaman shook off the lure almost instantly, but not quickly enough to stop Skye from hitting the flask mid-air. It exploded in a cloud of blue and electricity. Niko looked to his team with unfiltered joy, smoke still coming from his hide.

They were all running on fumes, so much so that Niko was certain that Mithel probably didn’t want to spare the extra essence to detonate flasks mid air. Dachna was running forward alongside Skye as the flamethrower dimmed to nothing. Ronald’s shield collapsed in on itself, honing into a single, exquisitely detailed glaive.

“Niko!” Mithel shouted, a familiar flask mid air already in between him and the shaman.

Before he could even consider if it was a good idea to keep going, he was already moving, the many drills and tactics pounded into them by Camille’s training coaxing him to action. The shaman screeched, swiping at the air frustratedly against the cloud that clung to him, electricity arcing between metallic flecks.

Dachna was still ten meters away when fire burst into being around the shaman, expanding out from him like a blast wave. Instead of falling back, Dachna threw another flask ahead of him and charged after it. It exploded as the fire made contact, and a brisk blast of icy wind forced the flames away. Niko didn’t divert any essence into his patterns, yoking every last bit he could gain from the environment and whatever he had left in him.

The shaman’s eyes snapped to Mithel, first, before startling at the blast of ice. It clung onto his body like hoarfrost, looking almost fuzzy as it crystallized on him. Dachna was even more covered, looking vaguely like a yeti, but his low to the ground approach made Niko think of a snow leopard. The pair of knives in his hands only exemplified the look.

With a sneer, the shaman levered the staff down towards Dachna, intent on blasting him with fire. Instead, though, the frost on the staff and the goblin only began to vanish rapidly, leaving the goblin wide-eyed as Dachna closed the gap. The rogue dodged a wild, clumsy swipe of the shaman’s staff, and stabbed deep into the side of the shaman before slipping past him. Niko was willing to bet that they were poisoned, if the scream of the shaman was indication.

“I will salt your still living meat and suck the marrow from your bones!” It screamed, just as Skye reached him. Her arms were clad in bark, vibrant with green. Momentarily, the shaman dragged his attention away from Dachna, this time the staff bursting red with fire.

Niko bit back a warning as Skye put her arms in front of her, a pulse of something rushing through the environment all around them. In spite of not seeing essence, Niko felt the presence of something larger turn its gaze on Skye once more, and as the flame rushed against her, the vibrant growth burned. However, it grew outwards, resisting the flame and overtaking it as the armor surged to cover Skye’s shoulders and spread along her body. Much more like a dryad in appearance, Skye was encased in bright green energy that was coursing over her bark-like second skin.

“Cull this one, Niko,” A voice entered Niko’s ears as Skye took on the brunt of the shaman’s attacks, borrowing the strength of something that Niko knew well.

‘I hear you, Alterra,’ Niko thought aloud, just as the flask along his path hit the ground, exploding in a rush of pink gas with orange flecks. He took a deep breath of the gas, feeling it rush into his body and fill him with temporary vigor and strength. Niko felt his mind hone to a razor point, all thoughts of retreat or anything less than absolute victory vanishing like sand in a hurricane. Niko felt his body strain as it tapped on every resource it had left and held in reserve, giving him desperate strength.

The shaman grit its teeth, still holding the flamethrower towards Skye even as she hefted one foot in front of the other. His other hand directed a fireball towards Dachna, chasing him backwards.

Then Ronald’s glaive of essence shot forward, and the shaman gaped even as it tried to dodge. With superhuman reflexes and speed, the shaman avoided a direct torso impact, but it failed to dodge fully as its right arm and staff fell to the floor, separated by Ronald’s strike. It howled in pain, just as Skye, suddenly released from the flamethrower’s pressure, tackled him. Even unbalanced, the shaman managed to keep his footing, and the fire in its left hand suddenly shifted from mere fireballs to what looked like a short spike.

It stabbed down at Skye, piercing armor and eliciting a scream of agony as it seared through her shoulder. Dachna jumped up from behind the shaman, bringing both daggers down in a twin-strike on its neck. The blades pierced it, but Niko noted that they only went down half their lengths. It was enough that blood spurted outwards, but Niko couldn’t see more than the spike working its way deeper into Skye’s shoulder. The half-elf’s armor brimmed with razor sharp thorns as she tore into the shaman, just as another glaive surged forward, much weaker than the last, but more in control. It struck out across the shaman’s face, blinding it in one eye.

Niko hit the pile next, finally knocking the shaman off of its feet. Dachna held tightly, forcing its head left and right fractionally as he tried to work the daggers deeper. Niko slammed down on the Shaman’s head with his beak while clawing away at its torso along with Skye’s relentless punching. Finally, it pulled its flaming spike from Skye’s shoulder, slashing at Niko’s chest. It hurt, but Niko had no place in his mind for pain, and ignored the shaman’s attacks. The stink of burnt feathers and meat only angered him further, and with repeated strikes with his beak, he cut into the shaman’s head, chest, and any other target that presented itself.

“I will end you all!” Niko barely heard the gurgling voice seethe, just as heat began to build in the staff, even unconnected as it was to the shaman. Ronald, having closed the distance, noticed the glow and threw the staff hard and far past the barricade. At that, the one-eyed shaman screamed wrathfully, the heat suddenly seeming to transfer into the shaman itself. “For the Great Warrior!”

With a deep breath, Niko sent half of the rest of his essence into his lungs before opening his jaws and clamping them around the Shaman’s head. ‘Cheep, cheep, motherclucker!’

With all the concentrated force that Niko could muster, he screamed bloody murder into an empowered Carrion Call. Immediately, he could tell that he was doing damage, but not quickly enough on his own. Luckily, though, he wasn’t alone, and he could feel the stabbing, punching, and slicing of his companions, as well as what smelled like another frost concoction exploding overtop of them all.

Niko kept belting out a long shriek, a resolute unwillingness to stop or to die fueling him, fanned by the wrathful-roid potion that Mithel had supplied him with.

Just as the heat was about to overcome the hoarfrost, Niko finally felt something explode out of the back of the goblins head, and with heaving breaths, Niko pulled back and examined what happened.

Dachna, still on the shaman’s back, was covered in shaman brains, but couldn’t help but smile wide and flop backwards, “Oh, by all the Gods, I thought we were about to explode.”

Niko didn’t pay any mind to that, though, instead forcing the last of his essence out, seizing hold of the shaman’s own essence. This time, the blessings seemed to be aware, and actively hooked into the essence at the same time he did. A shred of something greater than Niko’s whole passed into his soul, more like a waiting maw, kicking and screaming in rage as it went.

For an uncomfortably long feeling handful of seconds, Niko felt like his body was a vessel squeezed too tightly under pressure. Yet, just as the feeling of bloatedness reached its peak, it vanished.

“You have done well, Niko. Rest.” Niko heard Alterra’s voice as his consciousness began to flicker.

He was calm, up until he heard another voice, masculine but angry and somehow tainted with a domineering visage. “You… I will remember you. I curse your name, Niko. Mere beast that thinks itself enough to fight a God.” Just as the voice was fading, Niko felt something burning and agonizing start cutting at the deepest part of himself, like a brand in his soul.

And then something cool and distorted flooded upwards from one of Niko’s blessings, “Poor bloody Bant, you dabble too closely with the lower world. But, then, you all have.” The voice chuckled with a low tone that Niko wasn’t sure was silky smooth or sinisterly cruel, “I am awake now, Bloody Bant, and I’ve a taste for you. And with your hand caught in the cookie jar… well, I’d be remiss not to take it.”

Niko felt his entire being rumble as the strange brand stopped forming, but his every cell was shaking. Fright filled him as Niko wondered if his very soul was breaking apart. A sound echoed through his very being, and Niko realized that what he was hearing was screaming.

A God’s screaming. And Niko felt his mind-scape shudder as his body fully shut him out, unconscious and fully depleted and abused. He floated in his own space, feeling the carvings in his soul like fresh, weeping wounds.

Until the smooth voice entered his mind once more, “Alterra’s chosen… Niko. You’re more than I’d hoped for. Perhaps someday we can speak, but for now, I’ve a gift for such a lovely… banquet, you’ve given me.” Niko listened, utterly afraid to so much as move as the entity he could only name as Venris spoke, “I’ve been in the dark for so long… but no more. Perhaps some changes are in order. Ah, but that is for later. A blessing for a blessed being, to reforge a curse into a boon…” Venris chuckled, “Oh, yes, this will be deliciously ironic.”

Niko, in spite of himself, was just about to ask what he was talking about when his mind fell too deeply into himself to remain conscious. He only felt the lightest touch as Venris’ unseen influence continued the carving in his soul, and Niko fell deeper still until he felt nothing at all.