Legend of the Spellthief

Logan paced the extent of the slate ruins. The dilapidated background meshed well with the thoughts swirling in his head. How much faith could really be placed within the wordings of the System’s commands? Yes, it gave an additional objective to let the ritual be completed. But was that a test of his might or temptation that held ulterior motives?

To this point, it seemed like most of the optional tasks were to increase difficulty for a better prize, risk for reward. Logan would have to indulge in dozens of quests and talk with other PCs if he were to get the whole picture, all he had were a handful of quests and his discussions with Ahren.

Kicking some rubble to the side, Logan sighed as he continued pacing. The waiting was tiresome, not as much because it had become nighttime after another day, but more that he wasn’t really doing anything. He had become quite a busybody, and keeping watch like this was so dissimilar from his normal tasks.

“Logan, Drustan said he’s almost ready”, Amalia informed as she jogged to the Spellthief’s side.

Logan nodded, “About time.”

Amalia kept at an arm-brushing distance, “Do you think this will be alright?”

“Huh?”

“Letting the ritual go through. Just seems counter to what the hunt entailed.”

“I can’t fake being omniscient”, Logan laughed deflectively before taking on a sterner gaze, “At least this way there’s a chance of a good outcome. The items are mostly lost regardless. I’m doing this more for Ratbert’s potential return.”

“Do you also want to see if it’s possible?”

Logan held for a second to think about that question, “A bit.”

“I don’t blame you”, Amalia consoled.

“I would love to learn as much as I can about this world. Knowing is half the battle, and I’ve gone into a lot with only a quarter of the fight in hand.”

“You seem to be putting a lot of faith into the System’s requests. Considering a lot of the time they are deathly asks I’m surprised you do.”

“Faith”, Logan repeated under his breath, “I suppose so. I guess I am just hopeful is all.”

The pair turned to walk towards the centre of the slate ruins, passing columns and partial walls as they approached Drustan and Marcus over a large chalk circle on the floor.

Drustan shifted his robes as he stood up meekly, “It’s ready, the moonlight should pierce the clouds long enough to finish the ritual”, he informed with a weak voice.

Logan raised his eyebrow, in his mind’s eye he could picture himself landing a solid gut punch to the man to knock him out instantly. An easy way to cart him back to Gauntlet. Blood would coat his arm, but also his hands if Ratbert could have been revived. He shook his head.

“You ok? You’re not combining this with a self-sacrifice-ritual too, are you?” Logan asked.

Drustan smiled with bloody teeth before wiping his face, “I underestimated the time and complexity of using artefacts to charge a ritual.”

It was an indirect answer to Logan’s question. Had Drustan already forgone his instinct of self-preservation, or was this just an accepted pain over a certain death?

“He’ll be fine. I was able to tend to him during the preparation, but he’ll be left weakened after the ritual for a time”, Marcus explained.

Logan looked over the ritual site, the colourful chalk had a faint violet glow to it that meshed with the whites of the night sky.

The quartet of strong individuals took up their positions, though they weren’t too involved. Drustan stood at the head of the magical circle and began chanting, while the rest of the party stood in a triangle formation with Logan at the front just behind Drustan.

Logan understood pretty much all the basics of each type of ritual cast and was thankful that he didn’t have to listen to the droning speech for too long with the artefacts as fuel. It only took two hours for Drustan’s chant to complete.

“I beseech forces unknown and unseen, bring back that which I know too well and seen since birth. Return to life my blood and grant it presence anew. Rousing Reparation.”

The stones that held the artefacts safe and secure started to shake, then tremble as if an earthquake accosted them. The lines of the circle glowed a bright red, almost blinding. The vibrations of the rocks became so intense they started to crack, flake, and then turn to dust with the contents in tow.

A whirling wind swirled within the circle, guided by lines of crimson that seemingly kept the contents taut. Whatever remained of the artefacts flew together and coalesced. A thumping permeated the sound of the gales, thump thump thump, a rhythmic heartbeat that was otherworldly when outside of a chest.

“It’s working! A new body is being crea—” Drustan began to praise before coughing up phlegm and blood, falling to a knee and grabbing his chest.

Marcus quickly moved his hands to heal the fallen Devout, but the magics did minimal work on the man who had probably given too much to the ritual.

Drustan’s blood soaked the muddy and slate-covered floor, and then as if it were repelled from its previous host, it started to roll across the ground. As the blood picked up speed, it hit the circle on the ground and flew off of it, pitter-patting over the heart that floated in the centre of the circle.

The beating got faster, louder, and more “powerful”. Bones started to crack into formation, blood, sinew, and muscle then filled them out and encased them. From the torso to the limbs, a body was being made. It started out looking human, but then several large yellow circles started to form in the mass, something certainly otherworldly.

“Something’s wrong”, Drustan muttered. But there was little he could do to stop it now.

Logan thought to interrupt the ritual, there was a chance his Spell Absorption skill would work on this as it was still being cast. But, his objective hadn’t been completed just yet. This was all in the System’s plan.

The body engorged and turned a shade unlike any skin Logan had seen, scaly and fishlike in design as it grew to sizes not comparable to normal people.

Drustan fell back on his rear as he watched the monstrosity form in front of him, “No”, he said under his breath.

The creature continued creating itself out of the materials offered to it. Finally, its form landed with a solid thud under the light of the moon, dark clouds hugging around the celestial body and keeping away from its face. Whatever now stood under its majesty was not Ratbert.

This new “creature” was yet another force to be reckoned with. At 20' tall, it was a hulking mass of muscle and fin. A wide grin with shark teeth smiled openly at the party, dark green sludge leaking from the edges of its maw as if it were looking at a delectable morsel.

While it was muscular, the demon looked somewhat fat too, wide and bulbous in many areas, its fearful presence was a mix of emotions. Wide fins jutted out from its head and shoulders, flowing down to its middle back and ending in razor-sharp tips.

Wet, brown skin was kept taut across its body, with circular scales and underskin fins that encircled balls of yellow underneath the surface, which sloshed around inside as if they were holding liquid amber.

Massive webbed claws ended their arms, with almost no sign of wrists to connect them, a single long limb that seemingly couldn't rotate much. Its feet were just the same but had wide soles and no arch to speak of.

Its small, beady, full-red eyes stared at the man who had unwillingly summoned him. Unblinking, lacking any eyelids to do so, it began to chuckle, its skin wobbling as it did so.

“What in the below?” Marcus muttered to himself as he picked Drustan up off the floor, offering a shoulder for the man’s arm.

The newcomer laughed, his chin wobbling as he did so. “No. Not quite that far down”, it answered with a loud and low-toned voice, a hint of scratchiness to it, as if he was parched.

“Where is Ratbert!” Drustan demanded meekly.

“Hmm?” the creature replied before snapping two fingers, “Burta Barret”, he chanted, a huge roll of paper apparating above his hand that quickly filled itself with herbs and ground materials. Rolling up, the creature held the consummate cigar and lit it with a twinge of his thumb. Taking a wide puff from the carcinogenic, it replied with a more energetic voice, “So that was the name I heard.”

“You’ll hear it a hundred more times still! Where is he!?”

The creature took another puff, “Ahh. It has been too long since I sipped of this plane’s nectar. You just can’t get a good drug where I come from.”

“Where.”

“Pipe down”, the creature demanded with a pointed finger at the Devout, the man’s fervour diminishing somewhat. “I’ve barely stood here for a minute, your kind is meant to be polite. Where is my offered drink?”

“You want offerings?” Logan asked.

The creature looked at Logan, both of their eyes glinting as the pair used Identification on one another.

All Logan got back in return was the type of creature this was, a fenwahlash, a type of demon.

“It’s not every night a demon gets plucked from its plane and asked a favour. I think a trade is in offer, yes.”

Logan took a waterskin from his coat and threw it toward the demon, it caught it deftly, much quicker than its size would have alluded to. With pinpoint pressure, the demon poured the entire contents into its gob.

The fenwahlash let out a long breath as if he hadn’t had a drink in a while, “Now there’s some hospitality. What’re we talking then? You want some rat bread?”

“My brother, Ratbert.”

“You lost ‘em?”

“He died in battle. This ritual was meant to bring him back to life, but instead… it brought you here.”

“Drustan believed this was a revival ritual”, Logan explained.

The fenwahlash let out a laugh before puffing on his cigar again, “Sorry to say tyke, you read whatever you did wrong.”

“What!?”

“Yup. This ‘ere’s a summoning ritual, of the calling variety. I’m ‘ere fa good.”

“Then what of Ratbert?”

“He ain’t in the demon realm if that’s what yer askin’”

Logan thought to himself, “Then why did the system ask us to do this?”

“My type o’ demon is good at filling bodies with life though. You got the corpse?”

“Of course not, it was destroyed. If I had, I would have revived him normally”, Drustan spat.

“Shame”, the fenwahlash replied matter-of-factly.

“Shame? It’s a shambles! My guild was right to think this wouldn’t work”, Drustan replied as he stood up stronger.

“Calm yer passions. I ‘ppreciate you getting me outta there. Those damned heroes are making a mess of things.”

“The heroes are still alive?” Logan asked.

The fenwahlash let out a wave of smoke, “That they are. The Oracle with ‘em is dead though.”

“What?” Logan asked quickly.

“What? He a friend of yours? You Oracles don’t stick in packs much.”

Logan side-eyed Drustan, the Devout turning to look at Logan speechless at the insinuation.

“Way I sees it, the Oracle was their way out. Now the caster ‘mongst them is trying to get them outta below, as you’d say.”

“What if I take you to where my brother died, could you revive him there?” Drustan cut off.

“Hmm. ‘spose so. All I needs is blood and a bit of mineral left behind. Let the wall down ‘nd I’ll hop to it.”

“The wall?”

“Yeah the… wait”, the fenwahlash took a step forward and poked the air as if he expected a barrier to have been erected. When there wasn’t he waved his hand outside the extent of the circle on the floor. “Fuck me mate, you really got the wrong end of the shaft.”

The quartet took a few steps back.

“See”, Drustan began, bluffing with a sweat on his brow, “I let you free. So come with me—”

“You’re such a poor sack. You know what? Sure. Let’s go”, the fenwahlash accepted quickly.

“What about after you’ve done your job?” Logan interjected.

The fenwahlash thought for a moment, “Well. Stick around, most like. Feel sorry for the little fella, innit. Do this task then carve out a little lovely—” the fenwahlash then looked to the side as if someone had called his name. “Whats’at?”

Logan looked to the side, as did the others, but none could see what the fenwahlash saw.

“Huh. You sure? Big numbers. Alright”, the fenwahlash continued as he then poked the air.

Logan had his skin almost jump from his body as he realised the demon was interacting with a system window. “A below PC just did something!”

“Get back!” Logan shouted as he grabbed onto Drustan’s coat and threw the man backwards after both their bodies vibrated from a failed teleportation.

The fenwahlash turned to look at the four adventurers, put his cigar out on the floor and spoke, “Sorry, a below of a better deal just came my way. Just business.”

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