The Land: Forging (Chaos Seeds Book 2) (42 page)

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Authors: Aleron Kong

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Science Fiction, #Cyberpunk

BOOK: The Land: Forging (Chaos Seeds Book 2)
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He quickly arrived in front of the alcove. There was nothing to distinguish these bones from any of the others, but there was no doubt that they were the remains marked on the map. He carefully put each bone into his Bag, and then walked to the sarcophagus. The remains of the dead draugh were starting to smell, but it was nothing compared to the fetid corpse of the crypt mistress. The flesh that had given her soft round curves had apparently dissolved, and all that was left was loose skin over an elongated skeleton and a pool of thick midnight black liquid in a pool around the remains.

Richter was about to walk by, just trying not to gag, when a prompt came up.

You have found: Crypt Mistress Ichor. You have the feeling this could be used as a Death magic poison, as a corrosive acid, or to make a potion to lure the undead.

Richter’s mouth fixed into an expression of distaste. Not just for the vomit inducing stench, but also for what he knew he was about to do. He removed almost all of empty vials, and carefully collected some of the ichor. Inevitably some got on his fingers. The tingling feeling made his skin crawl on an instinctual level. It also started to decrease his health slowly at one point every seven seconds. A minor irritation to be sure, but he hesitated to think what would happen if it was ingested. He was just thankful that the acidic property his apprentice skill level in Herb Lore had detected was apparently not active in the ichor’s base form. After filling the vials, he just couldn’t stand touching the liquid any more, and the pain from the tactile poison was becoming more than just a minor irritation.

He wiped the vials and his fingers on the fur armor of one of the draugh. After placing the vials in his Bag, he watched the green skull and bones icon on his personal interface, and thankfully it faded after a few seconds. He cast
Slow Heal
to replenish the small amount of health he had lost, and then turned away from the crypt mistress’s remains. It was time to finish the quest.

Richter walked over and squatted in front of the sarcophagus. He slowly and reverently removed each bone and placed them at the bottom of the coffin. Last, he laid down the skull of the long departed queen. The bones began to emit a soft white glow. The light each bone emitted was siphoned into the air forming an inverted funnel. It began to coalesce into a ball
which grew bigger as the light continued to be leached from the remains. This continued for half a minute, until the bones looked normal again. Then surprisingly, the sphere grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared.

Richter looked around wondering if that was it. It wasn’t. A rippling line of white appeared in the air. A second line appeared parallel to it, and then two more lines materialized creating the outline of a large diamond. Initially, Richter could see straight through to the back of the chamber, but the space in the diamond began to flicker and distort. He was looking at the sarcophagus, then for a split second Richter could see… somewhere else. He didn’t get any true idea of what he had seen, but pink light etched itself onto his vision. The flash happened again, and this time a soft purple light shone into the room. The flashes came faster and faster until the scene stabilized.

Richter was looking at a skyscape with a configuration of stars that he had never seen before, either on Earth or in The Land. Large silver black clouds floated along, and huge crystals stuck up from the tops of the clouds like towers. Periodically the crystals would blaze with a random color, or the sky would light up like when lightning flashed over the horizon.

You have been exposed to the light from the Crystal Spires of Meiyo. All martial skills increased by 25% while exposed to the light of this plane regardless of alignment.

He watched this tableau for about five minutes. Clouds floated by in random directions, until one that looked much like the others, floated directly towards the portal. When it was closer, he could see that the crystals on top were not random collections of spires however, but instead a carefully constructed fortress. The true size of this cloud was not immediately
apparent, but as it drifted ever nearer, it became clear that it massively dwarfed the others that Richter had seen. It took up the entire diamond shaped window, and the leading edges of the cloud moved past. Richter looked around expecting to see the cloud filling the room he was standing in, but the scene impacted his reality no more than moving scenery on a television. The speed of movement increased. The view flew past the crystal fortress, and continued on over rivers of luminescent orange water and forests of black stone trees. It began to slow again and a small palace of blue crystal could be seen. A tall woman, not quite human, not quite an elf, stood regally with a detached expression on her face. The portal stopped in front of her. In one hand she held a massive sheathed blade. Her other hand she extended towards Richter, stopping just shy of piercing the plane of the diamond shaped portal. Without thinking of the consequences of his action, he reached through the doorway and clasped her warm, strong hand.

Without having seemed to move at all, she was suddenly standing in the chamber, directly in front of him. When he analyzed her, he couldn’t see here specific stats, but learned she was from a race called the Tefonim. She looked him over, wearing same cool expression. Then she looked at the destroyed bodies of the draugh, Yoshi’s sleeping form, and Sion and Daniella’s wide eyed expressions. There was no change in her demeanor, until she saw the crypt mistress. The transformation in her expression was frightening. A snarl took over the face and she drew her weapon. It was a glowing white broadsword with black runes inscribed down the blade. She drove the point strait down into the grey skinned skeleton. With a shout she unleashed the power of the weapon, and white, wraithlike flames enveloped the blade and the demoness’s body. After a few seconds, all that was left was ash. Richter was glad he had
collected the ichor earlier. Somehow he didn’t think he should share that fact with the Tefonim queen, however.

Once the body was gone, she turned towards him, her face still full of righteous anger. Richter braced himself, thinking he might have made a mistake bringing this statuesque creature from her home plane. She closed her eyes though, and collected herself. When she opened them again, Richter was surprised to see a touch of kindness on her face. When she spoke, the soft elegance of her voice was surprising.

“I thank thee, warrior. I know well that freeing mine warriors from the clutches of that foul temptress could not have been an easy task. Stand and witness the good that comes from your labors.” She began to sing.

The language of her song had not been heard since before the world’s oldest kingdoms were born. Ancient sleeping creatures of unimaginable power stirred at the resonance of the primordial words stirring The Land again, before resuming their eternal slumber. She sang of a kingdom dedicated to strength and of a people dedicated to honor. Of betrayal leading to its destruction. A small amount of the kingdom’s people were saved by fleeing to another land. She sang of the sacrifice of loyal guards that stayed behind to ensure the safety of their people. More than just the loss of warriors, she conveyed that love was sacrificed as well. Her mate stood with his men on the wrong side of the portal. Finally, she sang of love reunited.

During her song, white light rose from the bodies of each of the eight warriors one by one. Each light coalesced into a sphere, just it had over the queen’s bones. Instead of disappearing this time, each ball of light expanded to form the bodies of warriors. These were
not wretched undead. The light was pure Spirit energy. The pellucid bodies showed the strength and nobility that these men had possessed in life. The last spirit to form was half a head taller than the rest. His regal bearing matched the warrior woman who stood before Richter. At the end of her song, a single tear escaped her eye. It traced down her cheek, and threatened to fall off her face. Her lost love caught the tear with one finger however, and with that act, in the light of the portal, the warrior became flesh again. The two shared the deep kiss they had been waiting for, the kiss that not even death could forestall. The broke apart and looked at him. The queen spoke again.

“So long have I waited for my love. We are reunited again because of your courage, most noble warrior. We must depart this plane, but before traveling, I would grant thee a boon. We come from an ancient race of warriors and builders. The abilities that made us an unparalleled force in The Land cannot be shared, as they are bound to our souls. The skills that we learned however, were bound to the bodies which we will soon leave behind. I offer you one skill from any of us that you choose.”

All nine figures looked at him and extended a hand.

You have completed the Quest: When Good Men Do Nothing. Your efforts have reunited two long lost loves, and noble warriors with their people. Reward: 5,625 (base 4,500) experience. Personal Reward: A new skill! Touch the hand of any warrior to view the skills they developed in life. You may receive any one skill and all of the leveling associated with it.

Still not exactly sure what to make of this, Richter walked up to the first warrior and touched the proffered hand. Despite that fact that the Tefonim still appeared to only be
composed of white light, the warrior’s hand tightened firmly around his own. At that contact, he looked Richter squarely in the eye. Richter sucked in his breath sharply. Suddenly he
knew
!

The warrior had specialized in fighting with the staff. He could hold back an army if he had the room to move. He was also a cook though, and had delighted his friends and comrades many a night with savory fare. He was trained in medium armor and crossbows as well. His uncle had taught him to fish, and he knew where to stand to catch the largest iron finned trout in the river near his home. Richter released the warrior’s hand. He exhaled forcefully, and took a step back blinking rapidly. He had not expected such insight into the man’s past.

He stepped to the next man, mentally preparing himself before he accepted the proffered hand. This man was an excellent horse man, and wielded a saber. He had an ability that let him bond with his horse almost to the level of reading its thought. It made him exceptionally dangerous as a mounted fighter. Richter couldn’t learn this, but for a few short seconds he lived through the feelings of unity the man had experienced when in the saddle. Despite not being able to get the ability, the man’s master level horsemanship skill was nothing to sneeze at. He was also highly trained in the spear and the javelin. Both of which would have suited his mobile style of combat. And so it went. Each warrior had his own weapon specializations and odd skill sets as well. Why would the thin fighter with the high level assassination skill, also be quite advanced in playing the lute? Or the dual knife wielder, have something similar to the dwarven ability to sense precious metals? Several journeyman and adept level skills leapt out at him, but he still didn’t make the mistake of choosing too quickly. There were also several skills that seemed somewhat silly. A master debater? Why would you want that? Richter always thought being a cunning linguist was a great idea, but in school,
saying you were joining the debate team was like the rallying cry of the lonely. Arguing all the time just annoyed people, so you were really just fucking yourself.

Richter saved the queen and her consort for last, and when he finally got to them, he realized they were worth the wait. The consort was a master in Heavy Armor and Swordsmanship, an adept in Shields, and apparently horrible at weaving with a skill level of 2 and only 48% affinity. The queen’s skills were the crème de la crème, however. She was a master of several fighting styles, but she was also apparently well versed in the building skills of her people, Castle Building, Tunneling, Portal Construction, Field Fortification, War Camp Creation… hold the phone!

Richter spoke up, “Portal Construction?”

For the first time, a faint smile touched her face. It wasn’t a kind smile, but neither was it cruel. “Ahhh, the choice of ruler. Are you sure, noble warrior? That was not my most advanced skill.”

If there was one thing Richter had remembered from history class, it was that empires flourished on their ability to be mobile. Rome had built roads to conquer the known world. Britain had built ships to become an empire. The Western confederation had won WW III because they mastered orbital flight. If Richter could build portals, then nothing would stop him from doing just that.

“I’m sure.”

“Very well,” she said. She put both of her hands on his head, and his mind was ripped apart. Years of experience, and massive amounts of knowledge poured into his head. Complex magical calculations and theories of spatial displacement became as easily understandable as left from right. She took her hands away and Richter fell to one knee, gasping. The disorientation cleared after a second, and he looked up to see the warriors crossing through the portal. As each entered they became flesh. More of their kind ran up and greeted loved ones lost eons ago. The queen and her consort were the last to go. The tall warrior bowed deeply to Richter, and with a soft touch to the cheek of his beloved, crossed through the dimensional door. She looked fondly after him, and then turned to Richter, “Use this gift well, but never forget that a doorway opens both ways.” She turned to leave, and then looked back at Richter one last time. Pointing one finger, she indicated the central crypt, with a small smirk and then entered the portal. The doorway faded from view leaving the crypt once more, silent as the grave.

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