lordderpathon

[lordderpathon]

The Tower of Remorse

By Lord Derpathon

Autumn is a funny season for monster hunters. It's often the last stretch of work before they either settle down during winter or turn bandit because of a lack of work. Most enormous creatures try to eat as much as they can before hibernating, others migrate, and many rarely venture from their territory. There are always exceptions, of course, what with Mu being a hotbed for predators, but it is always a hard time for any adventuring party. And it was incredibly difficult being my first contract against a monster.

After those eldritch spiders ransacked Dawnstead, I was running out of gold again. What I "borrowed" from the Holy See had run dry. The rates of local inns and transportation increased because of course they have. Not to mention needing more potions because of my lacerations I received from said spiders. So Nippy and I drifted our way to a remote castle town of Frodrick's Peak. The castle itself was worn, but the walls were still manned, the peasantry often conscripted into a militia, and because of this, the roads were decaying. It was much larger than the last town, and I heard a rumor there that there was an occult library, so my interest was peaked. Hopefully, it could offer some clue about my affliction.

The library itself was practically a fortress, but it bore banners of a certain mage cabal called The Guardians of the Arcane Truth. Pretentious, yes, but it was my best chance at finding out more about my curse. Unfortunately, the moment I arrived there I found that they only take in fellows of their order, or those with enough coin for entrance. The total price being five hundred gold halos. That would set a normal peasant for life, for many if they spent it wisely. Therein lies my conundrum. Should I break into the library or attempt to scrimp and save until I could pay my way in?

The former option was obviously out of the question. Mage cabals are notoriously paranoid about those who would steal their hoarded knowledge. It'd be likely that traps, wards, and summoned creatures would be there to guard their lore, not including the mages themselves. So I tried to look around for work the usual way alongside Nippy, whose spirits our predicament did not dampen in the slightest. We searched local inns, meeting halls, even barracks notice boards, but because of the oncoming winter, there was little gainful work to be found. Slumped outside of a stable and at my wits’ end, I figured that we head on and cut our losses. Until I met some unexpected company.

"Hola stranger, a little bird told me that ya might be interested in some knife work what needs doing," said a voice coming down the alleyway. "Inn jobs ain't up to snuff for someone of your talents. I can tell by that armor you wear you've seen things, ain't ya?"

"Show yourself. I have no interest in talking to voices whose speakers I cannot see," I replied.

"My apologies, good sir. Come this way into the alley and you'll meet me soon enough." I had little choice, so Nippy and I set off to the alleyway. Leaning beside a thick brick wall was a man in brown peasant garb with a dark hood. I could see two green piercing eyes behind it alongside the glint of a silver tooth.

"Much better now, don't you think?" he said. "I'm Arnolt, by the way. And I know plenty about you, my Lord." He snickered after saying it.

"Yes, yes, get it out of your system. Lord Derpathon is a silly name, but it is still my name. Now, what is this job you speak of?"

"Right to the point. I like that. I represent the local baron of the keep. One Dietrich Holdest. From an old respectable line, if you believe it or not. And he's been anxious to free a guard tower in his lands for some time. Seized by the dread beast of Frodrick's Peak, it is."

"And what exactly is this beast?"

"That's the funny thing. Nobody's seen it and lived. There have been some survivors, of course, but many accounts aren't precise enough. A shaggy beast that walks on two legs in the dark moon-tide, or any darkness really. Likes to attack at night. Can't say I don't blame it. Clever thing that beast."

"Alright then. How much for its head?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but last time I heard the price was near one thousand gold halos."

My eyes widened at that. A lucrative task for a single creature. This tower must be very important to the baron, I thought.

"Oh, and you have to bring its head as proof. Stipulation from his lordship."

"I figured as much. And how can I be sure the good lord will hold to his end of the bargain?"

"Right here." He pulled out a sealed envelope. "An engraved invitation with his seal, noble crest and all."

I took the letter. It had a red vellum seal with a crowned tower crest.

"I'll be damned, it is real. My thanks... Arnold."

"Arnolt. With a t in it. And best of luck slaying that fell beast, my lord." He took a mock bow before sauntering off into the darkness. I tried to follow him, but by the time I turned the corner, he was already gone. I opened the envelope and unfurled the letter before me. It read as follows:

The bounty for the wretched beast that occupies the post of Dyrton Crossroads Tower is hereby increased to 1,000 golden halos. The beast's crimes are many against his Lordship but chief among them are the following: raiding local caravans, devouring livestock, desecration of roadside shrines of the Holy See of the Luminous Halo, and most of all the kidnapping of Lady Brittany Ul-Holdest. His Lordship has taken up regentship of the region after his niece's disappearance, whom was rightly named ruler of the lands of Frodrick's Peak by her late father Augustine.

It was official. I just needed the proof of the deed. So after scribbling down a crude map of the roadways upon the back of the letter with a charcoal "pen" I found by the roadside, I walked towards the baron's keep. Hopefully, I could learn more from him with the invitation.

The keep itself was imposing, a stone bulwark at the heart of the castle itself. Two armored soldiers protected the gate with pikes, who immediately crossed their weapons to bar my way.

"Alright piss-ant, who in god's grace are you and what do you want? His lord gave us explicit orders to slay any uninvited solicitors, wise fellows, or other rouges who are likely gonna try his patience." One shouted.

"I have an invitation to speak with your lord about a monster he's been having difficulty with." I waved the seal right in front of them.

"Oh really? If anybody could just walk up to the manse without a care in the world, I'd bu- oh shit, that's the house crest. Fine. Open the gate!"

The massive door creaked open as the guards led me through. The interior well kept and clean. Various portraits lined the halls, often of haughty nobles, all looking down at me as I entered their domain, and the flicker of torchlight illuminated the well carved furniture. Two guards and what I assumed was a head servant led me through until I reached the audience chamber of Baron Holdest. He sat upon a throne on a raised platform, a stone seat with elaborate gems carved into it. A gaunt man, but he seemed oddly sure about himself. Standing beside him was a tall warrior from an unknown land, a curved sword at his hip, splintmail armor with a pointed helm, and a large frame with a thick trimmed mustache.

"Why are you here, stranger? We are not expecting visitors at this time, so make it quick." Holdest said.

"My lo- I mean, I'm here for the bounty. The one you set on the monster at the tower."

"Oh. I had almost given up hope on that venture." Suddenly his posture changed in his seat as if I had caught his interest. "Another hunter come to slay the dread beast occupying our tower. Well, I won't stop you. Off you go. Kill it and be done."

I hesitated at first, almost dumbstruck at this rude man's apparent dismissiveness. The bodyguard walked down and clenched his sword.

"You leave now, little runt." He said.

"I am Lord Derpathon!" I stomped my foot down. "I need more information on what I'm dealing with so I can do this job right! I have emptied a town of horrid brain spider parasites but a few weeks ago! So tell me what I need to know and I'll be on my way."

At first, there was silence. The Družina, that was the guard's title I learned later, gave a silent glare until his master suddenly burst out laughing.

"Wait, you can't be serious. That's your name?! Boris, what kind of wandering warrior calls himself such a stupid title!?"

"A stupid man, clearly. Slow minded too." Boris sneered. Looking at these two at the moment, they incensed me. I tried to take a few deep breaths to keep my cool, but these two shit-lords really knew how to piss me off, it seemed. Until the strangest thing happened.

"Wait, Boris, wasn't there a Lord Derpathon nearly ten years ago? I think he was that failed rebel who died in the battle of Rikkert's Bridge. I heard they routed his entire army, and he drowned in the river. What a character. Tries to slay his majesty, our king, and dies in a puddle."

For a brief second I saw a flash, a blur of screaming soldiers and blood slick cobblestone on a wide bridge. I felt fire in my veins and fear as a sword swung for my head. Then I returned to the present, back to Dietrich Holdest and his court.

“Oh dear, we've lost our guest. Boris escort this miscreant out until he finishes the job. As the most eligible bachelor in the region, I have other work to do than humor the help.” Holdest walked off to his other attendants as his thug Boris nudged me towards the exit.

“So you wouldn't know what the beast is, would you?” I asked him.

“It kills at night with fang and claw. I'll wager a month’s pay on your dead body,” he jeered at one of his fellows. He merely shook his head.

“I'll take that wager,” I retorted. “Five hundred gold halos if I win. If I die, you get my armor and sword.”

“What good is an empty hilt-” before he could finish, I ignited the Blade Aetherium. Boris stepped back and gazed in awe.

“Alright, I accept the wager. I'll just take that shiny sword off your stiff corpse, then.” He said.

“Fine by me.” I thought I rigged the bet in my favor. Having bested a mangled body horror and a town of shambling parasites, I felt in high spirits. It's all too easy to get swept up by your own pride. It feels good, but it can blind you to the reality in front of you.

I set out alongside Nippy after leaving the castle towards Dyrton tower. We were low on supplies and the sun itself was setting, but I was assured of my victory. Let it believe us to be vulnerable and we show our true strength. In hindsight, I’d no idea what we'd be up against, and it nearly got us both killed.

The roads were worn, much of the forest land overgrown to the point even small shrubs appeared out of potholes. Nature was clearly taking back the road. Maybe the monster had a hand in it. Our journey was uneventful until we found the remains of an attack.

A wagon split in half was surrounded by metal scraps and broken crates. There were claw-marks on the ground, rending even the cobblestones. I took up a metal scrap from the ground. It had rusted from exposure to rain, most likely, and saw canine like teeth punctures through it. I asked Nippy to sit near me. He did so willingly, and I inspected his teeth just to make sure. They were similar, but the one on the plate was much larger. Then I inspected as saw that this was a shoulder plate. Someone forged the steel expertly and even had a worn house crest. This thing was a knight killer, not uncommon in Mu, mind you, yet that it could bite so cleanly through plate armor was worrying. We also looked at the crates around the wagon. They'd been broken more haphazardly, so it was likely the work of looters and scavengers. I don't blame them. It can be tough out on the road and sometimes a dead man's coin and wares come in handy.

We continued onward for a few days. Nothing really interesting happened. A few suspicious travelers met us, burning foul incense to ward off monsters. This method can be effective against certain beasts but can often lead bandits right to you. These were mostly peasants, poachers, and other commoners who went to and from the city. Few of them talked about the beast, and when they did it was either a prayer to the gods or hastily ignoring it and moving further down the road. On the fourth day, after seeing a few road wardens ride past wearing Holdest's colors, dark green and blue half pattern on their tunics, we saw a glimpse of the tower.

It was enormous, more of a monolith than a keep, to be honest. There were no battlements but many large trees coiling around its base like serpents. The woods here were thick, it segmented thorn bushes and thickets to the trees almost like a natural barrier. This would make for a great druid circle, though many prefer stone circles and natural caves to large obelisks. As we drew closer, there were a series of way-stones along the road, boulder sized and full of strange carvings. They had a pictographic language, showing what appeared to be the sun and moon, people farming, woodland animals, but some had more sinister pictures. Giants assaulting a primitive folk and devouring them, stomping their villages into the ground. The land swallowing up the giants as what I thought were druids or magi fought back against them. This was the history of a long gone folk. I wonder if any of their words or works would be remembered save for that obelisk.

When nightfall came, we camped far enough from the site, a small near hollowed out stump on the tower's side of the road, a dim fire lighting our surroundings. Nippy had been successful foraging, having caught a few fish from a nearby stream. Using a cooking pot we scavenged from Dawnstead, I boiled one, Nippy ate the other with glee. I found some edible mushrooms as well and made a stew out of both. But as the night went on, Nippy was on edge. His back hair stood up and he snarled frequently. We were not alone. In fact, something had followed us. I stood up and readied my sword.

The trees rustled, Nippy began snarling again, and I saw something move in the woods. A large shape, taller than a man but built like one, rustled through the brush with ease. I stood ready, ignited my sword, and tried to observe my surroundings. I couldn't see a damn thing, save for the campsite. As I tried to look for it, the beast drew first blood, its claws raked my back as it pierced my armor. I screamed in agony as I fell to the ground. My armor had saved my life, but it still cut deep. I grit my teeth and stood. Nippy ran out into the forest, biting a hulking shadow in the trees, only for him to be flung off into the stump. That's when I saw the beast for the first time.

Werewolves in Mu are incredibly dangerous. You might know them from your fictions. Lupine man hybrid beasts cursed to hunt in the moonlight. Silver can hurt them, and they can only turn during a full moon. There are plenty of variations across the many realities. However, werewolves of Mu are different. They earn such forms by what I can only describe as a sympathetic spirit, often to a dying traveler or somebody who has been subject to immense abuse, to name a few reasons. However, many barely handle their newfound power and often go feral, mad with their empowered blood and strength, hunting all who dare trespass on their domain. There are sentient werekin out in Mu. They lurk amongst the wild places of the world. But the werewolf is one of their most dangerous kind. A killing machine honed by natural magics and primal fury, their gift passing on only through specific ceremony or spiritual benefactors. They are some of the few creatures that can stand against the more... eldritch beings and win. And one such warrior of the wilds stood before me.

She had a jet black coat of fur, yellow eyes, massive claws, and stood nearly eight feet tall. The wound that Nippy gave her from his bite was knitting up before my very eyes. She bared her fangs at me and growled. I fell down to the ground out of sheer fear. She then turned towards Nippy, barely able to stand, and stomped towards him.

“No! You will not have him!” I screamed. I lunged at the werewolf, only for her to catch my blade with her clawed hand. It cut into her flesh, but she still held on to it despite the pain. The beast then bit into my shoulder. Its fangs scraped against my armor until somehow enough force had pierced the plate and cut into my shoulder. I screamed out. I felt it crush my very bones until I slammed a fist into her eye. The wolf snarled briefly, and I slipped out of its grasp. I raised my sword and swung at her, fighting hard against the pain in my shoulder. However, she parried the strikes of my blade with her claws.

After a failed exchange of blows, she kicked at me and sent me hurtling through the forest, face down into a mud puddle. I spat out mud from my mouth, tried to scramble to my feet, but the slick surface of the mud made it difficult, my sword slipping out of my grasp. I straightened myself up after using a nearby rock as balance, but by that time, the wolf was already upon me again. She punched me in the back and I felt more bones break. I tried to scream in pain, but all that came out was a hiss as the air escaped my lungs. I was terrified I would die there, killed in a ditch unremembered and with my poor dog as this werewolf's next victim. Then, suddenly, I heard Nippy bark at the wolf.

He stood near my sword, now only a hilt since the blade didn't ignite, grasped it in his mouth, and drew the blade. It had a cold yellowish blue color to it, unlike my orange one, and the shape had changed too from an executioner's blade to that of a Messer, a single-edged bastard sword. He charged at the wolf and slashed at her leg, unable to sever the limb but carving a deep wound. I stood to my feet and saw Nippy hold his own against this werewolf, dodging her strikes and lashing out at her in quick hit-and-run attacks. However, her wounds would simply heal, and Nippy was rapidly losing ground.

Then the wolf used the terrain to her advantage. After Nippy slightly slipped in the mud, she cut into his belly with her claws. Blood spurted from his hide and he yelped in pain. I tried to scream as I limped towards the two as she held him by the neck. I grabbed a nearby jagged rock from a mud bank and tried to jab it into her back. It merely bounced off her hide as she continued to choke the life out of Nippy. I was so desperate to free Nippy I tried punching, grabbing, doing anything to make her stop. As if out of desperation I kicked her in the privates, some weird bar fight instinct going off as I tried to break her hold. That was the key, but unfortunately for me, she threw Nippy deep into the forest and I saw him tumble into a thorn bush. The werewolf looked at me and screamed, not a bestial howl, but a pained, strained scream of anguish and fury. I met her gaze and saw now that it was personal; she didn't just want me dead. I would suffer for such an action.

Her stance changed to something more human, akin to a boxer's stance, and then all hell broke loose. With claw and fist, the wolf pummeled me near the bank of a large creek. Every hit felt like a sledgehammer or a mace denting my armor. I was all but defenseless, too winded to continue, and too injured to really fight back. She then kicked me back in the privates, and I am thankful that I always wear protection down there, but it hurt like hell. As I fell to one knee in agony, she swung again for my face, yet oddly enough, I caught it. My arm buckled under the pressure and I twisted a muscle, but out of desperation I swung my right hand at her face, one of my fingers jabbed her in the eye. The werewolf screamed out, clawing at me, cutting me across my chest and forcing me into the creek.

I got caught in the current, my armor dragging me down into the deep. The force of it carried me far off, water filling my lungs as I desperately struggled to regain my footing. I gained a breath of fresh air after hitting a rapid, but more came. It was a miracle it did not kill me. I don't know how far the current took me down the creek, only that it was far enough from the wolf. I was concerned for Nippy, poor thing suffered as much as I did, but I had to focus on surviving. Gripping an exposed willow root while floating down, I hid underneath a small muddy grotto. Then I saw raindrops pour down and felt a sense of relief. Even though I fell into the water, it'd be difficult for the beast to track us, meaning we could survive this. For nearly two hours I hid, wet and cold, under the willow. I was afraid I'd die without saving my dear dog, but somehow I survived. By causality, or simple luck, it didn't matter. I was alive. I would find Nippy and finish this. This was no longer a mere hunt, it was a battle.

Once I felt secure, I drew my secret weapon. One last, small health potion. It wouldn't be enough to heal me fully, and it would be extremely dangerous to use with this many broken bones. But I had no choice, otherwise I'd be dead. I drank it straight, and my organs felt as if they were on fire. Bone knitted together, I felt my blood boil around my shoulder and chest. I shook violently, fearing I would die. But as quickly as it began, it ended. The pain didn't subside completely, but I felt I could move again. I waded up the river as far as I could, clenching my teeth and trying not to make a sound.

I only made it up to a pool near the rocks which had dashed me earlier. Lightning in the sky flashed before a loud thunderclap bellowed, nearly knocking me back into the current. I climbed out on a nearby rock, slowly, my joints aching the whole time. I continued to follow the creek despite the vines and brush in my way, finding the old clearing. The wolf had moved on; it seemed. There was no sign of Nippy or my sword. The rain pounded harder. I tried desperately to look for any sign that Nippy might be alive. I glimpsed some bushes on the other side of the creek bank, their branches bent. He may have broken his fall, or something else moved through there. It was hard to tell in the storm. I shivered as the cold water poured down on me, my boots filling with water. I needed to find some shelter and fast, lest I catch a deadly cold from the elements.

I wondered aimlessly for a while. It seemed like a good hour or two before I found an old stone cottage. The roof was intact, but vines and thornbushes had claimed the building for nature. It would have to do. I crawled through an open window, despite a few thorns digging into my arm. I made it through. The interior was barren, save for some rotting logs, moss, and mold. A large hollow log lay inside as well. The only signs that it was a house were the foundation. Stripped out of my armor, shivering, realizing my clothes too were soaked, I removed them. I felt exposed, like an open wound. I'm not used to being naked so often. It reminds me of how fragile we are.

I curled up in a ball away from the mold and fungus, a nice dry spot. I warmed my chest with my arms. Friction helped soothe me. Rest wasn't easy that night. Between the thunder, I swear I could hear howling. The wolf was relentless, but it was a big forest with a thunderstorm. I guess I got lucky. If there were no storm, I'd likely be dead. Morning came, I thanked the Shepard god I did not dream. When I stood up, my armor stood in front of me. I hadn't heard it during the night and the pieces were scattered. It shocked me initially, but I wasn't afraid. Part of me knew this had happened before. My clothes were near as well. They had dried oddly enough. I didn't care at first. I focused on the moment at hand and dressed myself in my garb. In hindsight, this is concerning, some other force is at play and I'm unwittingly part of it.

I exited the house via the window again. I looked at my surroundings. If I lacked weapons, I would have to improvise. The house I had left had thorn like vines, the stones of the house shaped beforehand, and there was plenty of wood and plant matter nearby. I sharpened a crude stone's head into a serviceable knife, then got to work. Cutting down vines first, looking to see which ones were the strongest. I then used it to cut a healthy-looking branch off a tree. Wrapping thorny vines around it, a makeshift weapon that would have to do for now. I then remembered the old ambush site I found down the road earlier. The cart was damaged, but there could be nails there or other scrap metal. It took the better part of a day to reach it, retracing my steps from where our fight was to our old camp and back to the road, but I managed. It was still there, and better yet, some of the metal remained despite the storm. I disassembled it as best I could, taking only a meager amount of nails. The wagon's spokes were metal, so I tried as best I could to add them to my makeshift weapon. But the nails were the valuable treasure. Using some vine parts, I made six caltrops, sharpening the edges efficiently. By then it was sundown, but I had all the weapons I could scrounge so I headed towards the monolith. I was sure that was the beast's lair.

Making good time by simply going forward, I reached the monolith before the sun had truly set. I still had light enough to fight with for at least a few more minutes. The monolith stood by the roadside, oddly enough, more way-stones surrounding it. The closer I looked at it, I noticed two things: an aetheric energy coiling around it and a hollowed out stairwell leading inside. I felt a strange shiver, almost akin to goosebumps when I saw it. I then heard the wolf's snarl. Looking frantically, I couldn't find her in the brush until I looked up at the tower. Climbing down its narrow build almost like a spider with its apparent speed and force of her claws, the wolf descended the tower and growled as it saw me. I threw the caltrops outward and gave a swift salute with my makeshift club towards the wolf and stood at the ready.

My gesture puzzled her. If some part of her knew the salute or thought I was mad, I do not know, but swiftly regained her posture as she charged towards me. She evaded the caltrops with ease; I figured they could deny her valuable space for footing. Her lupine feet, while capable of quickly covering ground, might have some issues with moving to the sides, I hoped. I dodged her first claw strike easily, then struck her side with the jagged edges of my weapon. It barely left any marks, let alone a scratch. Thorns and nails were ineffective against its hide. I would have to strike at more vulnerable areas like the joints and throat in order to have any sort of effect.

The werewolf howled at me with such a force I nearly fell into the mud. Before I could compose myself, she had struck me with another claw, punching right through my armor. I hissed as my ribs broke. Blood spurted so quickly as I fell to the ground. I flipped myself over and quickly stood as she tried to bite my throat, quickly thrusting my weapon into her open maw. She bit down and barked in pain. I scratched the inside, but the weapon itself shattered. Spitting out metal scraps and thorns as we both struggled to our feet, the wolf was once again on the offensive. I dodged claws, teeth, and even a powerful kick as I retreated from the clearing. I sprinted back after a failed lunge, right in the middle of my caltrops. She howled again. My ears felt like they were going to burst as I raised my hands in front of my head as an instinctual attempt to block it. I held my footing. I felt stiff at first, but then, as I lowered my hands from my head, I saw a faint glow from my gauntlets. My whole armor had it, in fact, like steam from a boiling pot, coating my armor. In layman’s terms, it could harness residual magical energy and empower me with it, but I am not invulnerable to spells.

I took a new stance before the wolf, fists raised like a pit fighter. Muscle memory kicking in and regaining long lost techniques. I then went on the offensive. Even though I knew that one true hit would be the end of me, I felt confident. I gave two quick jabs to her side before dodging back away from a retaliatory strike. Her hair stood on end and pounced on me. Pinned at first, I struck her nose and throat before jumping back. My breathing became erratic. My wounds were catching up despite my newfound advantage. I kicked out at her leg, right at a joint near a foot, and struck her aside in the head with a followed punch. I had to be careful, though. One wrong step and I'd be feeling a caltrop pierce my boot or trip me into the mud. Both were a death sentence in this fight.

I couldn't keep fighting like this forever. However, my wound ached and my vision flickered. The wolf's shoulder checked me as I collapsed into the mud. She then tried to stomp on my head. I rolled and stabbed her foot with a caltrop. She howled in agony. Seizing the advantage, I kicked in her knee. I heard a snap as her left leg broke, and she collapsed into the mud. I yanked another caltrop from the mud and stuck it into her neck, finding a vein and slitting it. Blood spurted from the beast as she raged. Clutching her behind her neck, I continued to stab as massive arms elbowed me. I almost let go as the caltrop fell from my grip, but I still held on. I put the wolf into a headlock and desperately clung there. After a struggle, her arms wavered, she gave out an almost silent hiss, and fell limp.

I crawled my way out from under her, pulled off my helmet, and vomited. It was bloody and filled with bile, and I scampered to my feet. The werewolf was dead. Yet I felt no sense of triumph at having won. No, I felt shame overcome me while I stood there in front of the obelisk. Here was an animal, aggressive and territorial to an extreme, dead in her own home by my hands. It wasn't like I was minding my own business. I wasn't some hapless traveler. I came to hunt her, and I killed her. Shame best describes of how I felt that day, one of many sins remembered or otherwise, but this one sticks to me like no other. Collapsing to my knees, I wept. Nippy was likely dead. I was alone, and I made this tragedy happen. The worst was yet to come.

The wolf's body began to shift and change. Mangy fur faded and turned to dust, and in place of the werewolf was the body of a woman. I couldn't tell her age, either from the mud or not bearing to look at what I'd done. Her brown eyes were glazed over, looking at the sky. Tears strung down my face as I gibbered. I've done something terrible, and nothing I could do could amend the damage. Even as I donned my veil and helmet, I cried. I just stood there and wept till my eyes dried up and I looked at my bloody mud covered gauntlets.

The sun set as I remained distraught. I didn't even bother moving. I just stood there in a haze, failing to hear galloping and the twang of a crossbow bolt. It hit me straight in the back and I fell over into the bloodied mud. I could still hear the horses and a familiar voice.

“I didn't think this could have worked out so perfectly. All obstacles in my way gone in a single swoop. And to think I have that nitwit dead in the mud to thank for it all. Boris, collect my niece, would you? I think she might have soiled herself and that won't fit our cover story now, won't it?” The damned arrogance of Dietrich Holdest echoed across the area. My guilt gave way to anger, but I remained stiff still. The bolt punctured my plate, but not enough to pierce my skin.

“Benny, stick your spear into that dead errand boy, just in case,” Boris said.

“Ya don't think he's already dead? I mean, he was just standing there all blo-”

“Do it or you don't get paid.”

I heard footsteps approach me, and I saw the ground illuminate as torch fire lit up the mud. The bolt was within reach of my arm. All I needed to do was grab it. I felt my blood boil, knowing that this scum would live not only to hurt more for his ambitions but that I was a part of his sick scheme to begin with. None of them would leave this clearing alive.

I sprung up and yanked the bolt from my armor, standing before a stunned guard. I stuck the bolt into his eye as he screamed, thrusting it into his brains before grabbing his spear.

“You idiots! How is he still alive? Shoot him now!” Holdest said. I got a better look at his group. Aside from Boris and the lord, there were four horses among them all, a crossbowman on his mount, a road warden with a spear, and at least five other armed guards. I lifted the dying guard before me as his comrade fired again, a bolt punching through his lung. Throwing the body aside, I hurled the spear towards Holdest himself. I missed the body but grazed his leg. He screamed out as he fell from the saddle into the mud, his horse racing away.

The footmen charged at me with weapons raised. Boris dismounted to tend to his lord as the crossbowman rode off and reloaded his weapon. The spear wielding horseman charged towards me ahead of the others, unaware of the caltrops buried in the mud. His poor horse stepped on one, buckled backwards and throwing off its rider before galloping off. I tried to spring upon him before his mates would reach me, but with my wounds, I merely stumbled. They helped him up, and they surrounded me. I dodge a few spear blows until a guard with a sledgehammer smacked me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me.

“Hold him lads, don't want no funny business now.” A guttural voice came from that sallet helmed thug. I tried to struggle as two others grabbed me. I threw mud in one’s face and he recoiled, trying to get the mud out of his face and beard. Tackling the other, I punched him in the neck, but before I could finish him, the hammer slammed into my ribcage. I coughed up blood as he knocked me over onto my back. The armsman with the hammer planted his boot on my neck and pressed my head into the mud.

“You're not gonna gut another one of my mates tonight, you fucking bastard!” He shouted. Then he screamed as a bright blue blade punctured through his chest. It retracted as he collapsed to the side. Over him stood Nippy, battered and scarred but still clenching the Blade Atherium in his teeth. As the other guards charged him, he leapt forward, slashing at them with the sword and slicing off one's arm. I was relieved that Nippy survived, but we had to end this before it drew out any longer. I took a sword from one of the fallen guards and, while the others were recovering, hurled it at the crossbowman as he rode for a second pass. He fired a bolt first, which struck me in the leg, but the sword impaled him and he yelled out in pain as his horse carried him off into the forest.

Nippy could see to the others as they fought. I trudged through the mud to reach Holdest.

“Oi, bastard!” I heard as a hammer once again swung towards me. I dodged the hammer head quickly and faced the grizzled guard with the sallet again. He somehow stood, wounded, and held his weapon at the ready. The hammer swung at me again, but I was ready for it. I grabbed the hilt, twisted it, and seized his weapon before smashing his right arm with it. He howled before grabbing the hilt and head-butting me, breaking my nose, and knocking me into the mud. Yet as he tried to draw a dagger, he suddenly collapsed and fell silent. Some internal injury, I guess. As I finally stood up, the smug grin of Boris greeted me.

“Looks like you can fight after all. I've been needing a worthy win since I got to this dump.” He held his sword aloft before drawing it from the scabbard, throwing aside the sheathe and raising the blade. It held a slight curve at the end. I could see faint glowing runes against the blade. I let the hammer rest on my shoulder, catching my breath while I could.

“I just slew a beast that could cut through your armor like it was nothing. What makes you think this will be a win?” I retorted.

“Simple. You're good at killing monsters. I'm good at killing people.” He lunged at me in an instant and I barely parried the blade with the hammer. I felt a jolt run through my body as he drew another blade from his back, slashing into the mud and covering my helmet. As I tried to wipe away the grime he was on me in an instant as I saw the glint of a second sword flash from behind him as he cut into my leg. Then my arm forcing the hammer from my grip. He was fast, efficient. Clearly an expert swordsman. His strikes were rapid and precise, always aiming for my joints and getting in many hits, and if I tried to parry him, his magic sword would give me quite the shock. If I didn't end this, soon he would have his win.

I lifted the veil from my face and looked straight at him for a brief instant. He met my gaze, and it bombarded us both with horrific visions. My mind felt like it was boiling as I beheld a ravenous world of mouths and tendrils and the laughter of things that should not be. It is a tactic I am loath to do since I fear one such vision might shatter my sanity entirely. While gritting my teeth and donning my veil, I bought myself some time.

“You cursed, little rat! Killing you would be a favor to this world! Fighting dirty won't save you now!”

“Said the kettle to the pot,” I retorted. I looked to Nippy and saw that he only had one guard left on his front, the others slain.

“You slow minded little bitch! I'll kill you!” Boris again pressed his attack as I ran to Nippy. I held out my hand, and he threw me my sword. Grasping it, the blade changed from the Messer to an executioner's greatsword again, brimming with orange and yellow energy. I parried his strikes with ease, his weapon no longer jolting me. Armed again, I pressed the attack, despite my aching body I had the reach to take to the offensive. Each blow hammering against his swords until I shattered the regular blade he held at the hilt.

“How the hell is this possible!? Fall over! Die! You shouldn't be standing like this at all! What the hell are you!?” He screamed out in a last desperate assault, his sword casting arcs of electric energy all over the field illuminating us both. As he moved in for the kill, I smashed the hilt of my sword against his head, staggering him. He parried my next blow as I went for the head, but I was really aiming for his sword. His sword might have been magical, but it was nothing compared to my skill at arms. I sundered the blade as energy exploded before us. Shards of metal ricocheted off my armor, but Boris wasn't so lucky and one dug into his hand. He reached on the ground to grab a spear, but I leapt forward and cut off both his hands. He hissed out in pain before I struck at his neck. I didn't decapitate him, he dodged it, but my sword still hit his neck, searing the windpipe shut. I left him to suffocate, walking away as he clawed at his own neck in vain.

I limped over to Lord Holdest. The fight long since was over. The fires from his party's torches had died out, and so did his retainers. Straining with a wounded leg, he had a boot caught in the mud and had tried to limp away.

“How is this possible? How can one man-”

“Shut up, you pathetic little worm. Why did you put up the bounty? Why send so many hunters to their deaths and worse still, put a hit out on your niece!” I almost snarled, talking to him like that. I could see aetheric energy coil to the sides of my helm, the glow illuminating a horrified look on Holdest's face.

“How did you know?”

“The moment your minion shot me in the back. I didn't pay attention at first, I thought this was some simple job. I... was wrong. So horribly wrong. How long did you try to have your niece killed?”

“That doesn't matter anymore. You killed her, after all. But it doesn't have to end this way.” He slowly stood to his feet. “Why not work for me? This whole thing can all be forgiven. I'm now the sole owner of this entire region. You want gold? I can give it to you. You want spells? Magics? I can call in favors. I'm far more valuable alive than dead. I'm sure we can work something out like civilized men.”

“Civilized men don't have their nieces murdered.”

“She was a beast!” He fell to his knees. “Under her rule, my territory would collapse. A beast cannot rule a castle. But a lord... a lord can. I should have been an heir by right, but my idiot brother wouldn't have that! He'd put my holdings at risk to the whims of a young maiden who didn't even know how to raise an army! Poisoning my brother was a mercy. But his whelp of a daughter had to leave the castle grounds and run off into the forest. I figured she'd had either died of exposure or something, but I never thought she, of all people, would become a beast!”

I was stunned by this revelation. A man who has so much would murder his own kin for the sake of titles, gold and land. I knew what the nobility often did, anybody who lives in Mu does, but hearing it firsthand was chilling. A man who willingly abandoned empathy for power and would do anything for it. I raised my sword and walked towards him.

“Th-think about what you're doing! I'm unarmed!” He said. I kicked a dagger towards him.

“Pick it up!”

“What about my family? How could you kill a father in cold blood?”

“I doubt the most eligible bachelor in the land even has a family to go back to. You already played with your hand. Now you must pay for what you've done.” I walked towards him.

“I can cure your curse! I know powerful people! Don't throw this chance away! Spare me an-” It was over in an instant. I stabbed him in the chest and he collapsed into a heap. I walked back towards Nippy. He had long since finished his fight and I simply collapsed.

For what seemed like hours, I was out cold. I didn't care about the cold or the mud. I felt numb and my wounds ached. Later that night, I scavenged around for supplies. I got lucky. Boris had a healing potion on his person. After the painful experience of my ribs and nose knitting back together, I called it a night and slept outside the obelisk. In the morning, I found what wooden debris I could and made a pyre for Brittany. She deserved a proper funeral, for what it was worth. Nippy whimpered as she caught flame. I felt the same way. We were guilty of it, after all. I uttered a prayer to the Shepard god before heading inside the obelisk for the day. I needed some sleep, after all. What seemed like hours passed, with nothing happening until I heard a familiar voice hum a tune I swore I knew, but could not remember it for the life of me.

“Good morning, your lordship. Sleep well?” it said. A pit formed in my stomach as I realized who said it.

“Arnolt.” the moment I said his name he appeared before me, I could see his green eyes glimmer like jewels in the light. I tried to stand, but could not move. I heard Nippy growl and felt him jump away from me in an instant.

“And to you what a magnificent job you have done today.” Arnolt gave a grin, revealing his teeth. Something was odd about the silver teeth. They looked so real that I don't think even a skilled silver smith or mage could create such things. And his eyes, too, seemed to have a metallic glint.

“Before you say anything, I just want to say this has gone much better than I thought it would. A whole noble line dead and gone, the leyline freed. Oh, and I saw that trick with your armor, too. You truly are one impressive warrior. And a hard day’s work is good enough for well-earned pay, I say.” I felt the coin purse fall upon me, filled near to the brim.

“You can keep it. I don't want your blood money.”

“Blood money? That's a bit rich coming from a mercenary like you, isn't it? You did this entire job on the presumption of killing a living creature. That too counts as blood money, doesn't it?”

“You...” he was right. I did venture into the forest with the intent of killing. I'm as much to blame for what happened here as any other.

“See. You get what you deserve after all and you deserve your coin. It was hard won. I assume you'll blow it on getting into a library for your curse? Anybody else would spend it on essentials, maybe a day out on the town. The choice is yours, after all.”

“Leave us!” I ignited my sword and pointed it at him. “I never want to see you again!”

“Is that a threat?” Arnolt seemed to chuckle. “I'll tell you this once. It isn't wise to threaten me. It never has been for anyone my benefactors take interest in.”

“You couldn't defeat me even on your best day. Even if you harnessed some incredible power for yourself, you'd never win. So be a good lad and lower the sword.” He was serious, and a pit formed in my stomach. Looking down at me, I saw his eyes shaded, the emerald glow as sharp as a knife's edge. I lowered my sword immediately. The blade fizzled out and left naught but a few embers. He simply smiled and walked away.

“We'll meet again, my lord. You've proven yourself useful and there is always more work to be done.” He tipped his cap and walked towards the forest. I couldn't tell if he was walking on air or if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but he vanished. Not before leaving with one last silver toothed grin.

I learned a lot on that day. I now try to learn as much as possible before really setting out on a job. Even though I've wronged others, hurt others, I want to do better. I want to be better. To aid rather than harm. That's the hard part of it, though. It's easy to admit that something isn't your fault, and sometimes circumstance can lead people down dark roads. Even though tricked, I still bear responsibility for what happened. I killed Brittany. Some of you might say it was self defense, but I knew what I wrought when I took the contract. I still fight. Mu is unforgiving and one should defend themselves, but I still strive to change not only my surroundings but myself as well. To leave this world in a better state than when I found it. It won't be easy, it never is easy to change yourself. So now I search for context before and during a monster hunt. Not all monsters are wicked, and not all people are good. That line blurs so very often, and it is up to us to learn in order to improve. Since then, I've learned an open mind is a powerful tool, not just out of guilt or shame, but to hope for a better tomorrow.

[lordderpathon]

Prologue: Dawnstead's Doom

Forward, this was originally a script for a twitch demo to see if I can tell short stories using the platform. I have since edited it to fit a short story format. Hope you enjoy it.

Dawnstead's Doom

By Lord Derpathon

The first feeling I can remember was biting cold. I couldn't feel my right arm and it felt as there were pins in my left leg. I awoke upon a muddied field, my vision blurred by a persistent fog. I could make out vague outlines in the distance, but I couldn't move. I tried to muster my strength but my legs were sunken in the mud. My left arm too was encumbered by stone debris, rubble but I did not know where from. I coughed up blood before I took my first breath of air, a small feeling of relief quickly dispelled by my agony.

It was then that I saw a shape in the fog. At first I though it was a wolf, scavenging for its next meal. I tried to move but I couldn't, the mire had encompassed my armor. I knew this was the end but I still struggled, attempting to break free of the earth. Then he emerged through the fog. You already know Nippy, my precious canine friend, but then I thought he was some apparition come to eat me. He looked very much the same but different: his orange fur was matted, his eyes looked baleful in the fog, and he had visible wounds through his fur. Before I knew it, he simply nibbled on my hand slightly and I winced slightly.

At first he leapt backwards and growled, then as if on a whim started to dig out my left arm. I didn't think he'd aid me at all, that at best I'd be left for dead. After my arm was freed from the debris I dug my legs out from the mud, with the dog's aid. Pulling myself up hurt like hell, I simply gritted my teeth and fought through the pain. It was slow, I nearly collapsed twice, but I stood up finally.

The fog lightened after a few minutes and I caught a glimpse of my surroundings. It was a battlefield, of that I was certain. The shapes from before were bodies, they had been dead fairly recently. Humans, dwarves, elves, fae touched and others littered the muddy clearing. There were also odd silver stains on the ground akin to blood. The smell was putrid, and the crows had already picked clean some of them. My armor it seemed kept me safe. The debris from earlier was a white marble, heavily embroidered stonework. Yet it reminded me more of a castle wall than of some antique home from ages past.

I walked away from the clearing I had a better picture of where I had awoken, it was a hole made of mud and debris surrounded by tall grass. It's easy to assume some form of portal opened here and discharged the dead and I. I reflexively went for a scabbard to hack away at the grass but I found nothing there save for a hilt of a sword. You've seen it before, save the blade was not ignited and I couldn't figure out how to use it. It was simply just some hilt.

The dog had followed me, I knelt down to his level. I simply stroked his head, scratched behind his ears. He wagged his tail and barked at me. It was a great comfort at the time that I'd been spared from a slow death, and this creature was to thank. From then on I called him Nippy, an odd name but one that fit. And one he seems to tolerate.

Nippy and I eventually reached an old dirt road. What cobblestones were left were weather worn and faded. We followed it for a few days. Every step was agony for me. My injuries while not fatal, where exhausting to deal with. My arm especially ached. Eventually we found a lone horseman on the road. Wearing light padded armor and armed with a spear, shield, and a transparent black scarf he brandished his weapon.

"Hoi stranger! State your business!" He yelled.

"We're looking for the nearest town. I think my arm is broken." I replied.

"Shite mate, say no more. Nearest town is Dawnstead. The apothecary there could patch you up. It's about a days march away too. Any further and you'd likely be dead."

"You have my thanks erm-"

"Bill. Don't mention it. Mercenaries, even lord-lings like yourself, are bound to get in several bad scraps. Since his Majesty passed trouble's been stirring all over the land."

"Wait, what land are you talking about?"

"Mu," he said. "You know, the land your standing on. Damnation you might want to get your head checked out too. Seemed like somebody nearly brained ya."

"Mu. I don't remember. Wait I-" and then things took a turn for the worse. I stared directly at him. My head felt like it was about to split open, a sharp pain and a feeling that my brains were twisting. Then the visions began. I saw thousands of skittering legs, barbed and scuttling across a large fleshly net. A purple miasma filled the air and I gagged briefly. Chittering and chirping filled my ears as numerous bugs crawled upon my body. I desperately clawed at them with my working arm, screaming out while doing so. Then I saw a yellow sign, just like the one that I wear, before finally coming to.

By the time it was over the road warden had ridden off. I could hear him screaming, a hoarse awful cry. His scarf had blown off in his hurry to escape. I tried to run after him but fell onto the ground.

I had a few more dealings with travelers on my way to Dawnstead. They all ended the same way, screaming and maddened visions for us both. The rest were a blur for me, I was desperate and hungry. While Nippy seemed to run off on occasion he would later return by my side, sometimes with a half eaten hare. Greedy dog. But I could never stay mad at him. But eventually we reached the town.

Dawnstead is a roadside granary town. It is set on a crossroads and serves to distribute grain to major cities after tithes are taken by the local nobles. Pompous bastards. Protected by large wooden walls and a fairly sized militia it could hold off most bandit and monster attacks. Though in recent days monsters have been taking on castles, and winning too. Most townsfolk worked day to day labors often loading goods from warehouses or craftspeople. The largest building located in the town square was the local abbey of the Holy See of the Luminous Halo, the biggest religion in Mu's mainland. While I'm not super religious I despise the See because they're corrupt as hell. If you don't believe me then picture this, imagine a church having so much power that they are responsible for minting coins, keeping records (cause illiteracy is a commonplace scourge), and having a sway in most of the local noble's dealings. That and their knightly orders will often lead ruthless pogroms every once in a while. They are just the worst and I hate them. Anyway back to the town.

I found the apothecary nestled in between a tanner's shop and the local tavern. At the time I was ecstatic, I could really use a nice good ale. But instead I simply stumbled inside the apothecary since I really needed the help.

“Welcome to Margret's Medicines whatcha need traveler?” a bored woman of sixty winters said. She was reading a book on anatomy from what I could tell at the time. She also had a peg leg, not uncommon among the locals due to frequent monster issues.

“I need a potion. Now!” I said before falling on my backside.

“Not in that state. Stress will bugger up your organs right fierce they will. Seen it happen to all kinds of adventurers and monster hunters all the same. You need real medical care.” She didn't look up from her book, not even once.

“Fine, I'll take it.”

���That'd be twenty gold halos. Cough em up now love.”

I then realized that I had no money. I forgot to loot the dead at the clearing.

“Well I've been in a terrible accident and-”

“Look sir, we've all got issues. I need halos so I can keep this place running and so people don't drop dead all the damn time. Also need to pay for room and board.”

“What would stop me from just asking the church for aid? They'll help a poor sinner in need?” Yes I was desperate enough to ask the church for help. If you were dying from an infection and malnourished you would too.

“Talk about stingy. Sure. Go ahead. See if they can take you in with that ominous symbol on your cape and with the glowing eyes.”

“Wait, you can look upon me without madness?”

“I know a curse when I see one. That said, twenty halos.”

I hesitated. Maybe I could make a trade.

“What if I traded something of equal value for the service?”

The old woman turned to face me. She was wearing wide rimmed eye glasses which seemed to mitigate the curse from my gaze.

“Alright. I take it you don't want to give up your armor or other important gear so here's what we'll do. Three months you're going to help me around the shop, do my shopping, fetch water, any errand I ask for you'll do it. Your dog pitches in too. An old woman like myself needs all the help she can get.”

I hesitated at first but reluctantly accepted. The first few days were painful, mostly getting a brace on my leg and cast for my arm. Fortunately it didn't need to be amputated but it would take a long time to heal. As for my effects I had them stashed in a shed behind the apothecary. Working for Margret was hard, yet she was a fair employer. I did get free room and board provided I helped her with everything. We managed to get along rather well, she even teased me from time to time giving me the nickname of “Baldy” on account of my lack of hair. Yes I am bald under this armor, I think it complements my appearance.

Treating the curse on the other hand didn't go smoothly. She insisted that I use the scavenged scarf as a veil over my eyes so I could interact with others. I'm just thankful it worked. In the meantime I had to borrow some of Margret's son's old clothes. Poor man had died from an ambush on his caravan. They fit me but I still felt odd, as the sigil from my cape branded all of them within a few days. For nearly two months I healed and was basically a regular in the town, mostly keeping to myself and performing busywork during the day. My leg recovered but the arm was still bound. Yet the worst thing of all were the nightmares. As the months pressed on I dreamt of skittering sounds and grew ever more paranoid by the day that insects would eat me. On the bright side some of my memories returned. Muscle reflexes, combat stances, and my current name from a vaguely remembered flubbed speech and subsequent mockery “Lord Derpathon” surprisingly stuck. The townsfolk, while they thought me odd and kept me at an arms' length, tolerated Nippy and I enough.

One day seemed just like any other. I had taken a nap by a stump after splitting firewood for a few hours, the nights had gotten more restless and my visions worse. The dreams that day were absent and all seemed to go well. I was going to pick up a fresh pie from the bakery after I finished my chores. I felt at peace with my surroundings. That is until I had trouble breathing.

I awoke slightly after feeling a sharp pain in the back of my neck, when I awoke I couldn't move as well. I felt something squishy and moist on the back of my head, then long spindly legs wrapped themselves around my face, sharp points piercing my skin. I wanted to scream, move, do anything but I was simply paralyzed. I thought I would die then and there if it weren't for Nippy.

The dog seemingly came out of nowhere and bit the creature that latched itself on me. I heard a loud horrid shriek as its legs twitched. I heard a crunch and suddenly the monster went limp. I could breath again, I even vomited a bit before standing back up to look at what had happened. And before me I saw Nippy, his orange black fur stained with brackish blood, and a large spider-like creature.

The arachnid had a purple blue carapace, a bulbous abdomen with a brain like texture, and two large pincers on its mouth. The pincers had fleshy sinews with barbs and needles attached to them, long and rope like. I quickly tore off a sleeve from my tunic and wrapped it around my neck to stop the bleeding. Yet Nippy was still on edge, his fur standing up and growling at the town. I could see small plumes of smoke emerge. I took the hatchet I was using earlier with me, something was wrong.

The town itself was deserted but I could hear panicked screams off in the distance. I readied my axe yet felt uneasy as we walked further into town. I caught sight of a town guard hiding behind a barrel near a one of the spiders. He jumped out and stabbed it dead center with his spear. Mere seconds later townsfolk emerged from a warehouse and threw themselves at him. I saw attached on the backs of their heads the spiders, disgusting vein like protrusions appeared all over their bodies. But worst of all the hosts did not speak, I could hear a few hoarse moans but that was all. They simply tackled the guard to the ground and beat him to death with their bare hands. By the time they finished the poor man was nothing but a ravaged corpse, innards exposed and his eyes gouged out from the sockets.

I couldn't fight a whole town alone, so I hid. Creeping amidst the shadows, peeking into doors and windows to see if any were hidden inside. These... things are ruthless. If you found one more were nearby. Worse still unattached spiders crawled alongside them, and their puppets would drag bodies off to the town square. Well bodies they couldn't use. Eventually one of them spotted Nippy and I and gave a voiceless scream. Worse still I looked into the eyes of the host, they darted back and forth and I saw a tear trickle down the side of their face. They... they were aware of everything that happened... It's... it's a fate no creature deserves, to become the puppet of some parasite while it eats you. A wolf kills because it needs to eat to live. Many of the monsters I have faced follow the same mindset. It is mind wracking to witness such an... invasion. The stuff from my very nightmares come true.

As they gathered I ran. Hoarse cries and horrible clicking sounds filled the air. One poor soul barred my way as a ran into an alley with his arms out raised. I brought my axe down on him in an instant, the blade hitting the torso instead of the creature behind his head. Blood never spurted from the wound, worse still they grabbed me with both hands and pinned me against a wall. I even kneed the groin but nothing happened. Not even a wail of pain. Needle like tendrils emerged from its mouth, writhing and squirming in the open air. I lifted both legs and kicked hard against him, he staggered back into the wall as I saw the spider behind spurt blueish blood. I was free from its grasp and I simply ran. I ran towards the open streets and utter madness occurred.

More of those shambling marionettes emerged, the hoarse wailing reaching a crescendo. I caught a glimpse of the apothecary and ushered in Nippy before slamming the door shut behind him. We bared the door using an empty dresser and they merely crashed upon the door with their mass. Fortunately the building was of quality wood, otherwise we would have died then and there.

“Margret? Are you there?! The village is under attack by monsters!” I cried. I desperately searched for her. The store was a mess, potions were spilled, the chest where Margret's money was kept emptied, and she was nowhere to be found. Until I headed upstairs, then I caught a glimpse of her peg leg sticking through a door.

She... she was splayed against the floor, her head bloodied and bludgeoned. I wept at the sight of her, but recomposed myself as I closed her eyes. She held in her hand a crumpled page from a missing tome. The passage held an image of the hilt I had, but with a blade attached. To those who would wield the great ones might the blade Aetherium you must find. It has held many names: sacred tool of Khemhut the priest king, instrument of chaos, and Ulfhild's bane. All who wield it are doomed, for no mortal can wield the power without the Gnosis Carapace. To do so is to invite insanity and a fate worse than death itself. For both were hidden away never to be used again by mortal hands.

It didn't take long to realize that these items were my effects, and that I inadvertently brought disaster to Margret. The creatures didn't kill her. Somebody wanted me dead or what I possessed. I was livid. Before I went to the shed I put a blanket over Margret's body, and offered a prayer to the god of my ancestors to keep her soul from harm.

I reached the shed as two hooded figures were carrying off the armor.

“He yet lives. Kill him!” One drew a knife and rushed at me, only to have Nippy tackle him and tear out his throat. The other dropped the armor and fled off into the town. I dragged my armor inside the shed before shutting the door with Nippy behind me as more possessed ran to the commotion. Their hands started to batter the door, it wouldn't hold for long. I desperately search the room, looking for something that could help. The gods smiled on me in that moment as I saw a small rack of potions, ones with labels. I took a health potion, uncorked it, and drank half the draught.

My body immediately writhed in agony as bones reset. My right arm ached fierce, it felt as if my veins were on fire. But in a brief moment the pain faded, I removed my splint and I was healed at last. I then set about donning my armor as the spiders broke through the door. Strangely enough it was easy, the plates seemed to have a mind of their own as I strapped the armor on as it had a will of its own. I the gripped the hilt out of muscle memory as the monsters broke through the door.

I was immediately tackled and pinned to the floor, another yet pinned poor Nippy. A tendril immediately stabbed at me, my armor taking the brunt of the blow but I still winced at the force of the blow. I then slammed my fist against its head, snapping two of the spider legs as blue blood spurted. The host reeled backwards and I pressed the attack, screaming and grabbing the spider I dug metal fingertips into its body as it shrieked. Yet another puppet tackled me as it helped its ally up. Reflexively I held up my sword hilt and swung at the beast, picturing a blade in my mind. The moment I focused on the thought an orange yellow blade emerged, and I decapitated two of them in an instant. Nippy struggled with his foe but I simply stuck my blade into the spider, popping it like a boil. Nippy seemed happy enough, wagging his tail as if nothing had happened. It was about time we took the fight to the beasts.

We marched outside of the apothecary together. I raised my blade aloft in the air and yelled “It's me you want you eight legged bastards! Fight me! If you want a meal then come and claim it!” We stirred up the whole nest as spiders and puppets emerged into the street and charged us. Naturally I wouldn't fight them head on, that'd be suicide, not to mention utterly stupid. So we ran inside the tavern near the apothecary. It held two floors with a loft overlooking the bar and large barrels behind the counter. They followed us through the door. Screaming and wailing they attempted to grab me and Nippy, but I kept them at arms length behind the bar and swung at them whenever the chance presented itself. Gore and ichor stained the bar as I fought against them, I gritted my teeth as I tore down the townsfolk I once knew. However no matter how many I cut down more would replace their ranks.

But that was part of the plan. The tavern had a particularly strong blend of vodka kept in large barrels behind the counter, one that I could not stomach, but could be used to light up the whole bar. I saw that a ceiling lantern was still lit, and cut the rope holding it up as well as slashing the barrels. As the fire ignited I jumped on the counter top and leapt towards the stairs to the loft. Nippy darted through the crowd deftly as we reached the top. The spiders chased us, one managed to stab me with one of its tendrils in my face. I headbutted it and fortunately my veil managed to keep most of the gore off my eyes. As the flames spread and hoarse cries turned to insect shrieks I grabbed Nippy and jumped out the nearest window. The mud made the fall easier but I felt the shock on my knees. We both staggered away as the fire ignited the building, and the infected too were caught up in the blaze.

We eventually reached the town square after fighting less organized groups of the creatures. The abbey had been broken into fairly recently, the front gate was smashed in and the bodies were missing. It was then that I heard a loud unearthly hiss as a large leg crept through the door.

What appeared before me was a hideous amalgamation of spider and human. Flesh fused together as sinews and bones creaked. The thing itself had eight legs made out of mangled townsfolk so desiccated they were unrecognizable save for the looks of horror their eyes all held. It had only a center orb for a body, a gray matter mass with eight eyes and three whip like probosces. At the top of the body was the local abbot, white clergy robes stained with blood, his torso sewn onto the creature, held aloft a holy symbol as a holy aura emerged from it. This creature was different, it could not only steal minds and bodies but magics as well.

I cut deep into a leg of the beast only for the abbot thing to heal it. It swiped at me and I was struck full force with one of its long “legs.” I coughed up blood as I regained my footing, barely parrying the next attack with my blade. Any retaliation Nippy or I made was almost instantly healed by the abbot's divine power. The thing then charged at me with all of its bulk, only to feign the attack at the last second and swipe at me with the proboscis. It dug in between my shoulder and tried to drain the life from me. I quickly severed it, causing real pain from the beast before the abbot again healed it.

“Nippy, if we keep this up we're dead. We have to kill that damn priest and the body!” I shouted. I didn't think that the dog would listen, him being an animal and all. But as I charged towards the creature he followed suit, leaping onto a nearby cart before jumping on the beast's back. He bit into the abbot's throat as the man screamed and flailed trying to shake him off. I took the opportunity and even though I was gored by two of the probosces I cleaved the gray matter body and sundered three of the legs from it. We both were drenched in blood as the thing toppled, my sword dissipated as I collapsed, coughing all the same.

After regaining my composure I saw inside the abby a peculiar sight. Spiders pouring out from a great wound in reality. It bleed out yellow energy and tendrils formed around it into a sigil, the same one I wear on my cape. Somehow my being here had caused this great tragedy. My curse damned so many. I approached the portal as if by instinct, Nippy killing any spider that ventured to close to me, and stabbed it with my sword. With a twist the portal was sealed and I heard a great howl of rage from the plane beyond. The battle for Dawnstead was over, but it was a Pyrrhic victory.

We spent the next few days searching for survivors. There were a few here and there. We also took the time to hunt any remaining spider hosts. Cut off from their home dimension they were easily cornered and slain. I left the town after I recovered, taking with me some of the abbey's gold coins, and since then have wandered the lands. Because of my curse I am a nomad, looking for clues into my past while fighting the beasts of this world. But even though I am accursed, my body scarred and maimed frequently, I am never alone. I have Nippy to thank for that.

[lordderpathon]

Introductory Text

Greetings struggler, you have reached Lord Derpathon's tumblr thing. I am still learning how to use this but fear not, there will be updates soon. From posting short stories to TTRPG custom assets (hopefully I need to learn a bit more about distributing them) this will be a hub of Lore for the realm of Mu when I'm not streaming.

Hope you all enjoy and have a pleasant day.