#like this was a cavern that was probably like. fuckin a HUNDRED blocks wide

[slicksquid]

1.18 is def the greatest thing to ever happen to minecraft like i’ll never stop being amazed at the new terrain generation like look at this cave i found today

BRO THIS SHIT IS SO COOL

[words-in-the-wind]

Chapter 2 - The One in which Techno and Phil bond over murder

Word Count: 2,735

Previous: Chapter 1

The forest was peaceful, for the moment at least. No harmful beasts had crossed Phil’s path in at least a week, and he was growing steadily more suspicious. Typically he’d find a gathering of gnolls, a group of goblins, a cult of kobolds, something. And yet, his journey through this particular forest was completely calm. Kristen floated next to him, seemingly relaxed, but her eyes were ever watchful. The spirits of Phil’s lantern were bolstered by the quiet, darting in and out to play amongst the leaves and bushes. Suddenly. Sharply. A high pitched scream rent through the air, the sound of sheer terror startling the birds into the air. Phil’s eyes went wide and he darted through the underbrush, strangely graceful despite his large stature and wingspan. Crashing through the last bit of bush, he swings the lantern staff just in time to block the downward slash of a badly damaged sword, swung by a hooded figure, in a dark purple robe that just barely brushed the dirt. The person on the ground, a older human, in his late 70s, Phil would guess, backed away slowly, and Phil stepped forwards to face the cultist properly. So, this was probably why the forest was peaceful of beasts. Some cult had yoinked it for their own needs. Phil planted the lantern bearing staff upright in the ground, shifted his weight lower, and drew a long hunting knife from his belt, readying for combat. The figure attempted a slice with the sword, but Phil slid to the side easily before lunging forward and catching the figure by the throat. The sword dropped from their hand in shock and he pressed the advantage to take the figure to the ground. “Where’s the rest of your little cult, hmm?” He was practically on top of the cultist now, knife to their throat. “Just-just a little ways in. Please don’t kill me!”

“If you’re helpful, I’ll consider letting you go.” “I’m! I’m just one of the townsfolk! They kidnapped me, forced me to help them with their rituals and stuff!” The figure on the ground begins to tremble and he reluctantly lets them up. The cultist brushes off the robes and lowers the hood, revealing a young man, only 20 years old or so. “Jamie?” The old man on the ground croaks out, a hand reaching up. “Huh? Oh! I’m so sorry Mr. O’Clancy, they told me to find you specifically.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, they’re a bunch of knowledge-hoarders, if I’m not mistaken.” The man gestures at the robes that Jamie is wearing?”
“Really now? Would you happen to know a bit about this cult?”
“I’ve read about it. Its the Cult of Hemora, a demon lord of knowledge. The lord craves it, and grants boons to those who gift him with books or other forms of it. That’s his symbol, there.” The man points to three eyes embroidered on the robe, each making up one side of a triangle. “Thank you, I’ll be going to clear them out. You’ll be fine then, you two?”
“Yes, yes. And thank you for going to take care of them. People’ve been going missing for a few weeks now.” Jamie leads the old man off, towards what Phil presumes to be the town. “I sure hope you don’t plan on going in there alone.” Kristen appears again once they’re safely out of earshot, settling back down next to Phil. “Who’m I supposed to call then?” Kristen gave him a side eyed deadpan, she was good at those. “Techno?” Phil groaned, realizing that yes, as usual, his wife was right. “Fine.” He drew out the last bit of the word in frustration, looking around in his pockets for a bit of paper and pen. He finds one. And the ink is a gem like emerald, like the real one Techno had given him before they’d parted again. One of his children -his spirits- darted up eagerly. He chuckled, “You were always fond of Techno, weren’t you.” And gives the paper, now folded into the shape of a swan, to the spirit. It settles in nicely, like they do most of the time, and the swan comes to life, floating away over the treetops. Phil decides to camp nearby, to keep an eye on the cave system the cultists had repurposed and to wait for the response.

-x-

TechnoBlade is, as usual, coated in the blood of his enemies at the moment when the bird-spirit arrives. He waves it off at first, believing it to be just a regular bird or something that had gotten brave. Phil Phil needs help Go to Phil The chorus in his head take a break from the constant chanting of blood, to bring his attention back to the bird. Techno grumbles, but retreats off the battlefield to let the small bit of paper perch on his hand, unfolding it smoothly. The blood covering him slowly disappears, apparently into thin air, as the constant crowd of previous contractors to his patron suck it away, taking power from the life-force within. “So Phil needs help, huh? Guess I know where I’m going now.” Without hesitation, he allows the spirit that had brought the message to perch in his crown, giving it a message to send back, through that weird link they all had with Phil’s spirit wife. “I’ll be there in a few days. Probably.” He goes off to find the general of whatever army he’s been commissioned to fight in this time, handing over a portion of the gold he’d been paid, and leaves. It doesn’t take him long to travel to the location Phil had specified in his letter, being a living map after all. He doesn’t listen to the voices that gently mock the thought Four days after the spirit arrived to Techno, he finds Phil, with his little shelter in the woods. “Techno! It’s good to see you again mate.” Phil’s voice shows the other man is clearly overjoyed to see him, an unfamiliar feeling for Techno. “Phil. Hallo.” “C’mon in. Its not much, but its shelter, I guess.” Phil gestures to the small lean-to that Techno’s just now noticing. 
He grunts, ducking into the space. The natural curve of the rock it’s against allows a nice smoke-hole, keeping the air inside the shelter clean. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Well, apparently what’s down there is some cult to a knowledge hoarding demon lord called Hemora. So we go down there, fuck shit up, and come out victorious.”
Techno cracked a grin, “Just like old times?”
“Exactly. We’ll go down in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me.” Techno nodded, he’d worked with less before.

-x-

The next morning, some god had decided to pour the entire ocean onto their heads, or so it appeared. Phil grumbled as he peered outside the shelter, the rain pelting down outside. “Fuckin’ hell it’s really coming down out there.” He eyed the raindrops, knowing that it was going to soak him to the bone. Techno grunted from where he was sat, sharpening the edge of a backup knife. “Yea, it doesn’t look fun out there.” “We gotta go though, shouldn’t leave the cultists there for long, who knows what shit they could get up to.” “Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’.” Techno levers himself up, one hand gripping his trident. The entrance of the mineshaft was a few hundred meters away, which felt like far longer in the pouring rain. The moment Techno and Phil ducked under the shelter of the mine, Phil flicked his wrist, casting prestidigitation to dry them off. “Thanks.” Techno still shook himself slightly, out of habit more than anything else. “No problem.” The mine was quite dark, but it took only a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. Techno took point, making sure to check for and disarm any traps along the way. There was one, a basic rope across the floor, which would send a log tumbling down at their heads. The rope was stepped over, undisturbed. Voices came from up ahead, distinctly human in nature, although the words were too quiet to make out. Techno lowers himself into a crouch, creeping along the walls until he was just next to the chamber. Phil followed him, wings tucked tight to his back. Techno held up four fingers and signaling that there were four people in the room, guarding another entrance. Phil plants his lantern at the entrance, not wanting the smaller spirits to get hurt in the fray. He nods and as one, the two enter the room, weapons at the ready. Techno is a whirl of motion as his trident slams into one of the left side guards, piercing through the thin leather armor under the cultist robes easily. The man dies with a gurgle, throat pierced by one of the prongs. The other three attempt to shout, but Phil is there with a Zone of Silence, prepared beforehand. The men can scream however loudly they like, but no sound exits the glimmering dome. Phil draws his sword, leaping forward to cut at the cultists on the right. The moment that the blood-red gem on Techno’s starts to glow, it shimmers and shifts into a short sword, much more suited to closer combat. In this time, the second of Phil’s cultists attempt to cast a spell, but is silenced by his sword before it can leave his hand. It’s over within moments, the advantage of surprise their ally. The two look at each other wordlessly, before going through the pockets of their foes. Coin and other trinkets are found, and tucked away into pouches to look at later. They dump the bodies in a corner, covering them with a tarp quickly. It wouldn’t keep someone from finding them for long, but it does hide them from a quick inspection of the room. Phil retrieves his lantern and they continue through the tunnels, which slope downward gently, until they come across a much larger cavern, hollowed out through clear use of magic. The walls are too smooth to be done by human hands, and the place is a perfect dome, the top obscured in shadow. Torches line the walls, casting the entire dome in flickering firelight, and in the center stands someone who appears to be the leader of the cult, dressed in black robes lined in golden thread, the hood pulled up over his head. “Tonight, dearest chosen, we summon the God himself!” Techno’s eyes widened, they had to interfere, and fast. Hemora wasn’t a generous god, not without plentiful sacrifice. The voices in his head rise to a crescendo, wanting a show grand enough to honor the Blood God. And a show the voices would get. He glances at Phil and sees the same steely determination in his eyes. This wouldn’t be an easy fight, not for a long shot, but his weapon’s almost good for another shift and the voices were on his side. Phil steps out first, sniping the leader down with an arrow to the shoulder, before stabbing the lantern deep into the earth and casting Pyrotechnics on the lantern nearest to the cultists. It explodes in a blast of flame, searing bright for a moment in time. The cultists scream, startled at the sudden flash of bright light, and at the sight of their leader fallen onto the altar. Techno sprung forward, stabbing one of the cultists before his blade flashes and changes, lengthening into a bastard sword quickly. His other hand lashes out, catching another with a blast of eldritch energy, sending the figure to the ground in a heap, he doesn’t get up. Phil draws his bow again, an arrow appearing on the string as soon as its drawn back. He stays to the back of the cavern, picking off cultists with quick shots instead of engaging in closer combat. When the cultists finally regather themselves, they attempt to launch a counter attack, focusing on the intimidating red-skinned figure in their midst. Spells shoot toward Techno, but a golden shield springs into a place, and Techno offers up a quick thanks to the voices for the help. They chime back cheerfully, and the fight continues. He loses track of time, the only thing he’s keeping track of is the blood spilled on dirt floor, turning it into mud, and the blood that coats his body, sucked up by the spirits almost as fast as he can spill it. In his haze, he doesn’t even realize the last of the cult has fallen until he’s stood in the middle of a field of bodies, breathing heavily. The leader is still alive, leaning against the altar for support. “Fool!” The man’s reedy voice pierces through the chamber and Techno’s head whips up, red eyes gleaming. “You Fool! The blood you’ve spilled here today gives rise to the all-knowing. Hemora, I beseech you!” The dagger in the leader’s hand comes down, piercing into an eye like gem sitting on the alter like butter. The gem splits straight down the middle with a loud crack and A wave of what can only be described as sheer power rolled over them. Techno grit his teeth, plunging the sword into the dirt in an attempt to stay grounded. The voices quieted, and roared right back when the wave passed, louder than they’d ever been. Suddenly, they went completely silent, as a sickly greenish light shone from the altar. “Who summoned me?” An oily voice emitted from the light, and a figure emerged. Although it was humanoid, it looked fuzzy around the edges, like it didn’t quite fit in the skin. All the hair on the back of Techno’s neck rose, and he was far more alert than before. Techno wasn’t sure what to make of this god or demon or whatever it was, but he’d never heard the voices go silent of their own volition, and that was worrying. “Fuck.” He heard Phil mutter from where the Aarakocra was pressed against the wall, as if the ranger could disappear through sheer will. Fully black eyes fixed themselves on the half-orc’s form, as the most prominent figure in the room. “What have we here, hmm?” The god, Hemora, clearly, saunters forward, and Techno freezes as two fingers are placed under his chin. He’s not too magically inclined, knowing only what his patron imparts, but even he could sense the sheer magic running through the god. The god’s physical form is shorter than Techno’s, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. “How intriguing. I can tell, you are just full of esoteric knowledge, aren’t you.” The god drawls, tracing a thumb down Techno’s jaw. He bit down on a sarcastic reply, instead starting to think very very hard. Heeeh Anyone listening? Help? He prays, still frozen in place. “Cat got your tongue?” The god hums, a low threatening note that promises nothing good. A low rumble sounds through the chamber and a familiar heat rises behind Techno. He watches as Hemora’s eyes widen, feels the god let go of his chin. Techno shakes himself, just a little, and backs off to watch the confrontation play out. He doesn’t have a death wish, and standing between two gods is not great for his health. He pulls at Phil, gesturing for them both to leave before the two get into an actual fight. The escape couldn’t really be described as stealthy, but given how the air in the cavern was somehow getting hot and cold at the same time, how everything felt strangely heavy, and how a pool of dread was slowly growing behind Techno’s ribs, they were completely undetected. The moment they cleared the mine entrance, a loud crack sounded from inside, and the entrance to the place collapsed. “Well I’m glad we weren’t in there when that came down.” Phil glanced back at the pile of dirt, rock and lumber, before setting off in a direction, “C’mon Techno, we’ve got a town to inform that the cultists are gone.” Techno allowed himself a moment to try and communicate with the voices again, prodding at where that bond normally was active. At his disturbance, the voices roared back in full force, expressing concern and shock at the events.  He held back a chuckle, and patted them metaphorically on the head, everything was fine.

Next: Chapter 3