FINAL CORE - Chapter 96 (Patreon)

New Section - Chapter 87 

~ [Quare] ~

Dark-Elf-Half-Elf, Female, Assassin

Location: The Tower, Floor Sixty

~ [Dungeon] ~
  Floor {60}
  The Dry Waterfall

A large, dry basin sits in the center of the room. Its muddy, dried out floors are full of whipping, lashing vines that are thirsty for moisture. A large cliff-side with a dry waterfall adorns the distant wall.

Perhaps the blockage can be found up top?

Capacity: {01} Boss  

[Charybdis]  

Boss room: In order to progress, this boss must be defeated.

Upon success: Spawns {01} random, high-quality item of a level equal to this floor’s, according to the item drop pool of the boss entity.

Activates a shortcut to use at the entrance, which leads up to this floor.

Quare’s boot presses against the stone that juts out of the wall as she leverages her way up, explosions ringing out down behind her as her party keeps the monsters on this floor preoccupied.

The half dark-elf-half-elf looks down over her shoulder at the distant ground below. She’s almost at the top of the wall that she’s scaling.

The sixties of the tower seem to be nature and stone themed. Floor sixty is a dry basin full of constantly respawning monsters that crawl out of the flaky mud, with a large, massive wall behind it. The grooves in the rock indicate that this is meant to be a waterfall, but no water runs down its length now.

She climbs, her hand reaching up for the next stone.

– A green tendril lashes out from the basin below, whipping the stones just above her head, which she pulls down at the last second. With one hand, she spins around upside down on the face of the wall, lifting her body over the tendril, her face looking down at the distant ground below as she keeps ascending.

The tendril, blind, slithers back down to the ground below where the fight is going on, and she returns upright, finally reaching the top of the cliff.

Quare sighs, looking around, her eyes landing on the channel atop the cliff — dry, just like the basin down below. Sitting lodged in it is a large obstruction.

A serpentine maw burrows out of the stones, held wide open and resting in the basin, swallowing thousands of liters of water as the full river pours endlessly into its mouth. Shimmering scales, embedded with rocks and ivy, glisten with the wet that runs down its greedy body.

– A yellow eye turns her way, looking at her with a serpentine gaze. The floor rumbles, as the cliffside beneath her begins to quake as something breaks free from it, the stones and the dirt rumbling as the great serpent lifts its head, endless streams of water running free from its fanged mouth. The river flowers, crashing down and over the cliff as she tries to keep her balance, looking down just in time to realize something.

There is no cliff.

There is no rock wall

All of this is just the tightly wound, overgrown body of a creature, a monster – the boss of floor sixty.

Quare lifts her gaze, looking at the viper that is transfixed on her.

It might be time to make an escape down back to her party, decides the assassin, standing on the snake’s body.

~ [Charybdis]💀 ~
  Type: Berserker 

Element: WATER / HOLY
Level: 60 

Category: Brute*   

Rank: S

A monster of the waters that lives in rocky places. Old cultures held it to be a forgotten god. Charybdis swallows incredible amounts of water with little to no problems, storing an endless ocean within itself that its prey, swallowed whole, will swim in forever.

Boss tactics

Drinking Phase

Charybdis will absorb incredible amounts of water from the never-ending river, constantly regenerating HP while it drinks. All the while, the tendrils that have grown out of its mossy body will whip and strike all around itself.

Raging Phase

After having drunk its fill, Charybdis will uncoil itself, winding its entire body around the room in a circular pattern, driving any intruders closer towards the now flooding basin in the center of the room in an attempt to press them into the water. Each strike received will push Charybdis back a little; this must be maintained until the end of the phase.

Pool Phase

Charybdis will dive, submerging its impossibly large body in the pool of water, and rise out, blasting any intruders with a violent spray from its endless abundance of stored waters.

Secret Encounter Tactic

Charybdis is a rival to other creatures of the water. If a WATER caster creates a whirlpool in the center of the floor’s basin, Charybdis will see this as a challenge and dive down into it, skipping all other phases and returning directly to her drinking phase.

HP: 1025/1025

SOUL: 00/00

*Brutes have an incredibly high HP value but an extremely low defense. They have no SOUL-POINTS, as all of their abilities are purely physical forces

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Trivia - Chapter 87

~ [Note for occultists]{CHARYBDIS} ~

It's a bit of an obscure one if you aren’t a Mediterranean sailor. Charybdis is an ancient sea-monster from the Greek mythological canon. She’s usually featured as part of a duo, but today she’s just by herself. In the myth, there is the Strait of Messina (This is located between the right side of Sicily and the left side of Southern Italy) It was considered a particularly dangerous way to sail, as on one side of the strait lives Scylla, a horrible sea-monster and on the other side lives… Charybdis, who is also a horrible sea-monster.

They are considered to be of equivalent levels of danger, which means that sailors would have to choose which one they’d prefer to try their luck with.

Interestingly, Charybdis is actually said to live under a fairly small rock, while her counterpart, Scylla, lives under a very big rock. As you can see, rocks are a recurring theme in this story and in all of the best stories. Note, however, that this legend only specifies the size of the rock. The quality of said rocks is not declared in the mythos, so I like to believe that Charybdis, while having the smaller rock, objectively had the nicer one.

Charybdis came into being in a lot of different ways, depending on which particular legend you follow. In the most common tale, Charybdis helped her uncle Poseidon get one back at Zeus, who was being a dick like always. Zeus, angry at being out-dicked trapped her, chaining her to the bottom of the sea where she was cursed and turned into a horrific monster who could never quench her thirst for sea-water, so she would drink and drink all day, resulting in the creation of giant whirlpools that could swallow entire ships whole into the ocean

Interestingly, she is a recurring character in the Greek mythos and one you may have never heard of despite her prominence. She is present in Aesop’s fable, she is in Homer’s Odyssey, she’s in the Argonaut story, and she’s in Virgil’s masterpiece, the Aeneid, one of the greatest known works of Latin literature.

In essence, Charybdis is that one actor who is in every movie ever as the villain, but nobody ever really remembers their name.

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Chapter 96

Grace.

What is grace? I speak not of the physical concept of grace, such as might be attributed to an elegant doe, striding through the snow-laden forests in winter, nor do I speak of the harpy, effortlessly gliding through the shine of the bright morning lights of vibrant sprints hither.

No, instead I speak of the esoteric term of grace. When one’s life is blessed, a person is wont to say that they are in possession of grace.

When one lacks for such things, one might ask for just a little more grace.

This usage of the term is currently out of fashion, having been a phrasing that was more popular with the older generations. However, the concept remains the same. Grace, in a metaphysical sense, refers to the shine cast upon one’s life by the universe, by the gods, by fate.

To live in grace, with grace, is to have a blessed life and to live without it is to be as an unoiled wheel, difficult.

When you pray at night, pray not for wealth or for strength, pray for just a little more grace — as this will provide you with both of the prior.

~ Father Esmondious’ teachings, Scroll Fourteen

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Isaiah

“This reminds me of the past,” says Isaiah, looking at Rorate, who it is holding its arms. Its legs submerged in the steaming waters of the healing hot-springs.

Rorate nods. “That’s the idea,” she explains. “It’s a ritual,” says the dark-elf. “It’s like how you helped me or how you pulled Seide from the water.” She nods, thinking.

“It’s also like when you brought me inside from the rain,” says Scion, from the side of the water.

Rorate keeps nodding. “Rituals are important,” explains Rorate, looking up at Isaiah. “We can talk about our faith in you until the sun comes down, but practices matter, and symbols matter,” she explains. “This can be one of ours.”

“I see,” explains Isaiah, looking at the dark-elf in its arms. “But I do not quite understand why we are doing this,” it says.

“Practice,” replies Rorate.

“Practice?” asks Isaiah.

Rorate lifts a hand. “The pilgrims are here, remember?” she asks. “Hundreds of them and thousands more are on their way,” says the woman. “We need more than words and sermons, we need teachings, things we can show them, things that have symbolic value.”

Isaiah looks at her. That does make sense.

“The water symbolizes the washing clean of a person,” says Rorate. “It means that it doesn’t matter who you are, where you’re from, or what you’ve done in the past, it can be something that means less than this new existence.”

“I see,” replies Isaiah, understanding. It’s actually a good idea. As the head of a religion, it would be wise to deepen the aspects of its faith in many ways. It is good that it has Rorate and others for this, as it itself wouldn’t really know where to start.

Rorate nods her head to the water, and Isaiah obliges, stepping in deeper and lowering her down into her baptism. It is not her first, but it is the most graceful so far.

“Me next!” says Scion from the side. “I want to go next!”

Isaiah looks at her as it lifts Rorate back up and out, setting her on her feet so that she can stand in the water by herself now.

It had not expected this to be its day.

__________________________________________

Taishi-Shi

Vildt, Male, Priest

Location: The Far Off Eastern Continent, Church of Isaiah

(Taishi-Shi) has taken the class: [Priest]{Of Isaiah}

[Priest]{Of Isaiah}

The holy-men of the world, priests, are a caster class with a strong foundation in healing and supporting magics. They have next to no offensive abilities but are extremely useful as members of parties because of their large SOUL pool and array of helpful powers. While priests of the HOLY-CHURCH generally worship a broad pantheon of specific old-world gods and are socially obligated to follow the church’s strict doctrines and rules, priests of Isaiah are free to follow their own lives and practices — so long as they adhere to the teachings of Isaiah.

New Abilities:

• [Minor Barrier]: Creates a minor magical barrier that absorbs {20} damage from any source.
• [Minor Heal]: Casts a minor healing spell that restores 15% of lost HEALTH-POINTS
• [Crafting: Minor Ward]: Allows the crafting of a physical warding charm, that repels minor spirits and ghosts from an area

The more worshipers a deacon acquires in their flock, the more energy is sent to Isaiah, but also as deacon of a church, this priest also gains a boon, which scales accordingly.

• Unique Boon [Isaiah’s Fervor]: For every prayer said in your church, you passively gain EXP
• Unique Boon [Isaiah’s Wings {01}]: Allows access to the [Hover] ability. Subsequent tiers are unlocked with a stronger church.

“You’re all set,” says the messenger of Isaiah next to him. Taishi-shi looks at the creature, colored teal like the waters of an ocean-side lake. The creature holds out a fabric robe for him to take, made of a beautifully woven, soft, white fabric. “You ready?” he asks. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you today,” it explains, flying up to the rafters of the small church.

“Yes, thank you,” replies Taishi-shi, putting on the robe. The creature waves at him.

Today is the day of his first sermon. He has a class, as one of the only ones of any of the others here. Many of them are coming to listen to what he has to say about Isaiah.

— Taishi-shi’s feet leave the ground, and he wobbles around in surprise, trying to hold on to whatever he can grab.

Taishi-shi has activated: [Hover]

It seems that he will have a lot to say.

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Cardinal Schweig

Human, Male, Cardinal of the North

Location: The City, Cathedral

The man stands atop the tower of the cathedral, staring out into the city below and then, with distaste in his eyes, looking up towards the blemish that blocks out the light of the sun.

Had the tower decided to be born in the north, circumstances would have perhaps been different. He could have made it become quite the useful tool, a symbol of the gods as proof of the validity of his domain.

But for it to be in the south, well, this is of no use to him. His counterpart, the now deceased bishop of the south, would have gained far too much status in the church from this, had the narrative gone any other way. So it is well that it did not.

After all, now he can still use the tower to prove the validity of his own domain.

Those who had wanted to leave the city, have left. But those who remain here within the city’s walls, those hundreds of thousands of people, they’re fearful and full of angst. They desire safety and shelter from the clawing terrors that they perceive to be knocking at their doors.

And so, in their pursuit, they’ll latch on to anyone who can display strength and power.

His eyes turn toward the west, toward the swarm present in the distance.

The crusade has finally arrived, making its way to the south. He watches them crest the horizon from his vantage point by the hundreds and then by the thousands, banners of the faith held high into the air as trumpets begin to call out, filling the sky as if it were birdsong.

They are a fitting procession for his coming declaration of ascension towards bishophood and full governance of the holy-church.

Then, the tower will be destroyed, his agents are likely already in place and at work sabotaging its defenses from the inside for the crusade, and his seat of power and greatness will be enshrined forever in the halls of humanity and even in those of godhood.

________________________________

Witch Perchta

???, Female, Witch of the Blackwater

Location: The City, A Small House

Perchta stares out of the window, lifting her gaze up toward the sky.

The day may still be here, the night having not yet fallen, but with it will come the bounty of a full moon. The waters of corruption have been trickling through the city for so long that a saturation has come into effect. Hundreds of people have made wishes and very likely gotten them, one way or another.

But by doing so, they have allowed her magic to seep into the waters of the fountain and, accordingly, into the land and the dungeon. Witch-water seeps now through every crevice beneath every foot, and the world is not yet aware of what this implies.

Yet it will be so.

“The crusade is here,” says Witch Gauden. She turns her head to look at him. “Everything is set up like we wanted.”

Perchta looks over to the ranking members of the Witches’ Sect, who are working on a logistical plan of sorts. “What’s the scoop, Andman?”

Scholar Anderwal lifts his gaze. “We’re ready, Witch Perchta,” replies Anderwal, tapping a finger onto the map. “As soon as the moon is right and the crusade is in position, the stage will be set for your arri-” He swipes a strand of white hair out of his face. “- arrival.”

“Witch Perchta,” says Witch Spillaholle. The woman looks up from her book. She’s sitting on the ceiling, upside down, just above the members of the sect. “This is your last chance to cease this nonsense,” she explains. “We may still yet simply let this all be.”

Perchta points at her. “I’m not letting that feathered rat get away with what it did to me!”

“Witch Perchta. You may have likely done it to yourself,” she replies.

“Now, now,” says Witch Gauden. “Let’s not fight. We came all this way to help Pipi, and that’s what we’re doing.” He looks over his shoulder as the door to the house opens.

“Pardon the interruption,” says the member of the sect. “Witch Gauden, it’s ready.”

Gauden smiles, lowering his hands. “Oh, boy! I’ve been looking forward to this,” he says, walking outside.

“To what?” asks Perchta, looking after him. “Where’s that dumb slime of yours anyways?” She looks around.

“Be nice, Pipi,” says Gauden, looking over her shoulder. “He’s my friend.”

Perchta frowns, lowering her head. “…Sorry…” she sheepishly apologizes. The witch puts her fingers together. “I get jealous.”

Gauden puts a hand on her shoulder. “I know,” he replies. She looks back up at him. “You’ll always be my best friend. Don’t worry.” He nods toward the door. “Wanna look?” Perchta nods, and the two of them go outside, where a carriage is parked in front of the door.

The member of the sect lifts the sheet covering the cargo, showing off a gigantic suit of blackened metal plate armor, engraved with the iconography of the Witches’ Sect. The armor rattles, not quite moving in any coherent form, but still shaking here and there as something squirms around inside of it.

He knocks on the armor.

“Really?” asks Perchta. “You put the slime in a suit of armor?” she asks.

“Sure did,” replies Gauden. “Little fella got pretty big, you know?” he asks. “Weighs as much as I do.”

“Sure, but, you know that he can’t… you know, move it?” she asks.

Gauden shakes his head, resting his palm on top of the armor’s chest. “Nothing a little magic can’t fix,” he replies, blue streaks crawling over the armor as if they were the roots of a growing fungus seeking water. “I figured it would be a nice surprise for you,” he explains.

“For me?” asks Perchta.

Witch Gauden nods. “Sure,” he replies. “After all, if you’re going to be in the sky, then you need someone down on the ground too, right?” he asks.

(Witch Gauden) has used: [CURSE]

The armor rattles as his magic runs through it; the carriage shakes as the pieces of the suit pull themselves together, holding firmly as if a man were wearing them. The monster in the armor sits upright, lurching over somewhat before rising, towering over them as he steps out of the carriage and into broad daylight.

“How are you feeling, Shamrock?” asks Gauden, talking to the slime in the gigantic suit of armor.

It looks down at them, its chest heaving as it comes to terms with its changing sapience.

The creature, the monster, looks down at itself and then back at itself, a shaky arm rising up as it adjusts to movement, before strongly striking against its chestplate, ringing out like a gong. “I serve,” replies the creature of war.

Perchta beams. “How many people can you kill for me?” she asks excitedly.

The entity simply breathes for a time, its heavy exhalation of air blowing back her strands of hair.

“Yes,” it replies, saying nothing more.