Chapter 7 - Reality (Patreon)

They checked in with the local garrison commander, a squat man who was balding but made of muscle whose jaw looked like it could cut a diamond. Quite gruff to look at, and his demeanor didn't leave one particularly incentivized to talk with him for a long time.

"Mmmm…what do we have here?" His voice was rough but filled with wisdom.

Rickard nodded politely and handed the man their quest slip. The commander gave them a crisp salute, clasping his fist to his chest, "Commander Margrave, at yer service." He had an odd lilt to his voice, as if he had an accent once and it occasionally slipped out.

Rickard grunted, "Tell us about the wolves.”

The Commander turned his attention to Rickard once more, "Aye, the wolves." He began to describe enormous wolves that had taken to the fields at night and seemingly dragged witless farmers and other villagers back to their lair. But their size is what stuck out most in the description.

Every one of the adventurer's eyes narrowed when he said that, and Ingrid gulped audibly, her trailing tail tapping nervously.

Rickard knelt, "The Goddess will give us victory, the lady of light will not abandon the people."

The Commander frowned, "A fanatic, eh? Lux doesn't give a shite about The Empire. Now, Terra, that’s a Goddess worth worshipping.”

Rickard looked up with a murderous stare before standing and turning to leave, rapidly. The rest of the company followed.

Rickard left in a huff, walking to the street, and immediately slamming his fist into the wall.

How dare he?

The Commander had just insulted Lux. The strongest deity in Heimfold.

Rickard would have struck the man then and there, if not for his mandatory military service that taught him that he would be judged harshly – even for defending Lux’s name.

He ground his teeth in frustration.

Blasphemer.

The group left the city and made their way North towards The Holy Wall. It would be a day-long journey on foot.

The company - save for Rickard - began to mesh as the hours passed.

The cleric of Lux was rapidly showing himself to be a stick in the mud. He made some grotesque statements as well; bawdy and not appropriate in good, sober company. Whenever another person called him out for rude remarks, he would respond with some bullshit about how he couldn’t do anything wrong because he was chosen by the best Goddess.

Echo chose to not engage with the man whenever possible, instead talking to the other three at length.

Bertram was an adventurer for money and sent it to his wife and child. He was enthusiastic about gardening and wanted to open an apothecary near his daughter’s school.

Ingrid was a cleric who served Aqua as a healer in her temples. She was considered a prodigy in her knowledge of anatomy but was really into clothing and fashion. She wanted money to open a fashion boutique in Saint’s Hold.

Velu left the Siltar Republic as a young child with her parents and they owned a small smithy in Empire's Reach, the primary port town that served the interests of The Empire. She wanted to be a famous hero renowned across the lands.

Out of all his companions, Echo felt like Velu and he shared the strongest connection – a desire to adventure and go on quests, instead of using it as a means to an end.

Night eventually fell the group made camp. Echo reached into his pocket dimension and pulled out a small camp stove that he began cooking on.

One of the few things he truly loved to do in his free time was cook. In his past life, he couldn’t afford it. But now, he had money aplenty and made an amazing meal before the group retired for the evening.

“Run!” The woman screamed as she pushed her children ahead of her, trying to spur them on.

The sounds of howling echoed from all around as the night seemed to grow darker, the shadows deepening unnaturally.

The woman prayed, over and over, “Terra, protect us!”

But no divine intervention came.

Instead, the family was forced to stop in their tracks as an enormous creature stalked out of the crop field they were about to flee into.

The woman bent down and grabbed her children close, trying to protect them with her body. More loud thuds came from behind her, and she knew they were trapped.

“Please…Gods…anyone…” she whispered, begging for any one of the Gods to intervene.

“Oh, the Gods cannot hear you. Not while I am around.” A calm, deep voice responded.

She looked up and saw a shadowy figure wearing an odd robe of unusual design. His shoulders and head were covered in shadow, and he was astride one of the beasts.

“Don’t worry, though. You’re not going to die here. I have use for you.”

The shadowed figure waved his hand over as the large wolves gingerly picked up the three cowering people.

The man cackled as he rode towards his lair, new victims in tow.

Rickard tossed and turned in his sleep, waking up and staring at three moons above.

He glanced over at Echo, sleeping soundly in that amazing armor made from his Goddess’ divine metal.

That will be mine.

The shadowed figure strapped the woman and her children to shackles upon metal tables.

“Please! Don’t hurt my babies!”

The man cackled madly, “I won’t. I’ll change you first, and then them. You’ll get to do one last thing for them in this life.”

He reached into his bag and withdrew a silver cube, placing it on the woman’s bare torso. Black and purple goop spilled out.

And she screamed.

Hours later Bertram nudged Echo awake for his turn at watch.

Echo gently stood up, taking care to try and be as silent as possible.

This is the boring part about adventuring. Guard duty was nothing new to him. But it was something he dreaded.

He sighed and kept his gaze locked on a distant star, letting his mind wander.

At least the weather is pleasant.

“Ah, all done changing?” The shadowy man unclasped the chains on the woman.

Only, it was no longer a woman. She had been warped – changed – as her body contorted into that of a quadrupedal, wolf-like creature.

The man tapped the once-woman on the nose, “Sit, and stay.”

It complied, sitting on haunches, and panting as blood dripped from its maw.

The children were crying, having just seen their mother warp and spasm before becoming something monstrous.

“Oh, stop that! I am going to do wonderful things with you two.” He reached to his belt and gripped a small wand. “Reshape to my will, Transmute Substance.”

The two children distorted, warped, and blended into a horrific amalgamation of two bodies. Their screams entwined into a dissonance of despair. “And now for the finishing touch.”

He placed the cube on the writhing, screaming, horrifying, mutated abomination. The black and purple goo raced out over its form.

Whatever intelligence was left screamed in horror and pain.

Echo pulled his sword out of the ground.

Something is wrong.

He felt it in his bones. A sense of dread rose up in his guts and made him feel nauseous. He felt it before, when on duty in the military before a surprise attack.

Something was coming.

He looked over his sleeping allies. “Wake up!”

They roused and Echo activated Bulwark. Shimmering, silver auras covered his allies. Only visible to him as the user, or someone else with Detect Abilities – it would redirect any damage inflicted on the guarded targets.

Out of the darkness, only visible as the flickering fire behind him reflected and glinted from the eyes, an enormous wolf approached. It was not just any canid but was covered in chitinous scales and bristling spines.

Rickard stood up and pointed his holy symbol into the sky, “Light of Lux, banish the shadows, Ray of Light!”

A beam of bright, white energy cascaded from the sky above as he channeled the power of his Goddess.

The power of a cleric came not from their own Quintessence, but rather from the divine power – Heat – their god imbued them with.

The whole area brightened to daylight and Echo could make out the large wolf clearly. It was alone, with no pack in sight, and it lunged at him.

Echo easily interposed his shield, deflecting the bite. But the force of the blow sent him backward as he tumbled into a heap.

Velu quickly pulled back her bowstring and an arrow of flames manifested in her grip before she loosed it with a shout, “Flame Arrow!”

The shaft of flame whizzed over Echo’s head and impacted the wolf, setting it aflame as it growled, charging toward Rickard. The cleric barely had time to react, diving to the side as the wolf closed its enormous maw on his leg.

Echo screamed in pain as his leg was crushed, blood gushing from the wounds where his bones stuck out of the skin. He blinked away the pain and muttered, “Enhanced Regeneration.”

The bones sunk back beneath the skin and in scant seconds his body was cured.

This is the reality of being a tank.

He silently cursed himself for choosing that role. He was too caught up in making a character he would play – not one he would be.

Rickard’s leg was still in the vice-like grip of the wolf, and it began to thrash him about.

Echo felt the impacts transferred, jarring him back and forth, over and over, as he was bashed and bruised from the impacts.

He coughed up blood.

Am I going to die?

Next Chapter