Prototype's Gate

Alex moved through the dense forest with swift, silent precision, his form almost blending into the shadows as he darted toward his destination. Each jump and flip through the trees felt like a dance with the forest itself—grabbing branches, swinging around them with a powerful grip, vaulting over fallen logs, and leaping between gaps in the canopy as if gravity barely held him. There was something exhilarating, almost freeing, about using his abilities like this. In his old world, any sign of his power risked drawing the attention of Blackwatch. But here, in this wild expanse of Faerûn, he could revel in his speed and agility with no one to fear.

The cool forest air whipped past him, heightening his senses with each gust. As he ascended through a tall stretch of canopy, he caught his first glimpse of the ruins in the distance. Its crumbling remains barely peeked through the dense green, overgrown by wild vines and trees that had taken root over the centuries. He landed softly on a patch of moss, the vegetation thick and lush beneath his boots, and came to a halt near the ruins.

The forest had all but reclaimed this place. Trees stood like solemn guardians around the ruins, their twisted roots and branches covering what had once been a proud stronghold. The scent of earth, the damp, musky smell of leaves, and the faint notes of wildflowers permeated the air, contrasting with the quiet, decaying beauty of the fallen stones. It wasn’t just a ruin; it was a reminder of power lost, of faith tested. He could almost feel the weight of the past in the air around him, each broken pillar and fallen wall holding whispers of battles fought and prayers once offered to the Morninglord.

He murmured the name, “Sunrise Spire,” the sound barely breaking the silence. As he spoke, he recalled Lathander’s voice in his mind, filling him with the knowledge and history of this sacred place.

The remnants of Sunrise Spire lay before Alex like a monument to both glory and downfall. Centuries ago, this place had stood as a beacon of faith and strength, a high fortress of hope that reached for the heavens. Now, it was shrouded in the green life of nature that had slowly claimed it, each vine and root wrapping around the stones as if to shield them from further harm. He felt almost as though he could see the past flickering in the ruins before him.

As he approached the ancient site, Alex couldn’t help but picture the scene from centuries ago. Rival princes warring, swords clashing, and soldiers rallying in a desperate attempt to control this very ground. The presence of the Tome of the Morning, a sacred artifact of Lathander, had once graced this place, brought here without the knowledge of Sunrise Spire’s First Prior. Alex could imagine the First Prior’s anger, his sense of betrayal, upon learning that such a powerful artifact had been kept hidden from him. But then, in a twist of fate, the Morninglord himself had appeared, backing not the ambitious Prior but a humble Brother, Quitherus Ardabad, a man of true faith. Lathander had declared that the tome was meant to travel, not to remain confined in the walls of one fortress.

The shadows cast by the dying sun deepened, elongating as across the clearing. The place had an almost ethereal beauty in the dimming light, a solemn peace that made him feel like he was standing on hallowed ground. Alex felt the weight of Lathander’s trust in him now, a man who had once been more monster than hero. To be here, in the ruins of a place where Lathander had once made his will known so directly—it humbled him, in a way few things could.

A rustling sound broke the quiet. Alex looked up, his senses heightened, and saw a figure watching him from the branch of a tall oak. The figure’s presence was almost ghostly in the shadows, draped in darkness with only a faint outline visible. Eyes caught the fading sunlight, glinting like rubies, unreadable and intense. There was no threat in its posture, only a quiet watchfulness, as if it, too, were connected to this place in some way.

As Alex gazed at the mysterious figure descending toward him, he could barely make out it form against the darkness. It landed silently, it presence sudden and subtle as a shadow, it black robes hanging over it like a second layer of night covering any features .The robe’s enchanted fibers seemed to swallow the light around it, making it almost indistinguishable from the gloom. Only it eyes stood out—two glints like smoldering rubies, set deep within the hood, piercing him with an intensity that felt nearly tangible.

"So, you are the one Lathander sent to help me clean this place," Alex spoke, his voice steady but his eyes watchful.

The figure tilted it's head slightly, it movements controlled, almost feline, as if gauging him. "You are here to assist me," she replied, her voice low and smooth, carrying a quiet authority. "I was the first here. For about two weeks." Her tone hinted at a hint of frustration.

He nodded, choosing his words carefully. "I was... stuck in another plane," he explained, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Otherwise, I would have been here sooner. But here I am." He extended his hand. "My name is Alex."

The figure’s crimson eyes lingered on his hand, but she didn’t reach to take it. Instead, she straightened. "Lady Incognita," she stated, each word precise and sharp. "We should not waste any more time. The Morning Lord has given us a mission to complete." With that, she turned, walking past him with purpose toward the looming ruins in the distance.

Alex felt a strange twinge at her curt dismissal of his greeting, but he brushed it aside, following her. "Are you coming or not?" she called back, her voice carrying a subtle impatience.

Matching her stride, he asked, "In these two weeks, have you found the source of the disturbance?"

She shot him a glance that simmered with frustration. "If I had found it, I would not be here now, would I?" she replied, the words edged with irritation. "I’ve combed every nook and cranny, searched every shadow and stone in this forsaken place, and yet… nothing."

Alex’s gaze shifted to the ground, narrowing as he noticed something subtle yet telling trough his tremor sense. "The ground here... it’s disturbed," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

She followed his gaze, her ruby eyes narrowing , but she couldn't tell what was Alex talking about. Without hesitation, Alex knelt, placing a hand upon the ground. He closed his eyes. From his palm, a tendril of flesh extended, winding its way down through the dirt, twisting through stone and soil like a curious serpent. It burrowed deeper, moving with an almost eerie intelligence until it struck something solid.

Lady Incognita stood quietly beside him, her eyes narrowing in an attempt to understand what Alex was doing. She couldn’t see the tendril snaking its way through the earth, yet something in his intense concentration, the rigid set of his jaw, told her that he had indeed found something significant.

“There’s something buried beneath us. A few dozen meters down,” he murmured as he met her gaze.

For a moment, she simply stared at him, her ruby-red eyes flicking between his face and the ground below them. “Tsk. Two weeks wasted,” she muttered under her breath, her words laced with the frustration of endless days spent searching without answers.

Alex’s eyes returned to the ground, sensing the faint pulse of powerful enchantments radiating from the structure below. “The structure is imbued with enchantments,” he said, his tone sober. “I can push further down, breach the stone if need be. But it would be wiser to find the actual entrance—wherever it is—first.”

"And where would that be?" Lady Incognita snapped, barely able to hide the frustration in her voice. "Because it’s definitely not around here. I’ve combed every inch of this place, every crevice—yet it was under my feet the whole time.” She crossed her arms, the shadows around her seeming to deepen with her annoyance.

Alex didn’t respond, sinking instead back into his work. He placed his other hand on the ground, eyes closing once more. Another tendril emerged, this one thicker, winding its way into the soil, branching out like the roots of an ancient tree, delving deeper and spreading wider as it sought any opening or weak spot. He could feel its progress , sensing each twist and turn, each layer of rock and soil, the remnants of long-buried life clinging to his extended senses.

Minutes ticked by.

Incognita was standing nearby, glancing down at her notebook. She leaned against a nearby rock, bathed in shadows, one hand absently scribbling notes in a flowing script, her pale fingers darting across the page as if hoping to make sense of what little they had discovered.

Then, suddenly, Alex’s tendrils retracted. He opened his eyes, an intensity burning within them as he straightened to his feet. “I found the entrance,” he said, his voice low but commanding, immediately pulling her attention.

Lady Incognita snapped her notebook shut, tucking it swiftly into the folds of her robe. She stepped forward, her gaze locking onto his with a look of steely determination.

“Show me,” she said, her voice a whisper of challenge and intrigue.

Without a word, Alex turned, pointing to the left where a massive boulder lay cloaked in dense vines and ancient moss. The rock was unassuming, blending seamlessly with the landscape around them. The vegetation draped over it like a forgotten veil, the moss thick and undisturbed.

Alex stopped just before the boulder, watching as Lady Incognita crouched low to inspect it. He offered to help, but she brushed him aside with a wave of her hand, the shadows around her seeming to deepen in the gathering dusk.

The sun had sunk below the horizon, and the creeping night draped a veil over the forest. Alex's boredom started to bubble as he shifted his weight, the cool air wrapping around him like a reminder of time passing. “Have you found something?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, though impatience tinged his voice.

From behind her hood, he heard a scoff, and her hand gestured dismissively. “Why don’t you try?” she said, a challenge hidden beneath her words.

Alex took a breath and cast truesight, feeling the rush of magic weave through him. His eyes glowed faintly, illuminating the surface of the boulder. No illusions danced before him; it was simply a stone. Yet, beneath that solid facade, he sensed a faint magical connection reaching down into the depths below.

He slapped the boulder, feeling the vibrations travel through the rock like whispers of the secrets it contained. “The rock has something deep inside,” he announced, his voice steady. “A spherical object.” He began to tap rhythmically around the boulder, listening intently. “But it’s sealed inside.”

“Can we just crack it open and see what it is?” Incognita asked, her impatience evident.

Alex paused, weighing the risk. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied.

“And why is that?” she countered, crossing her arms, a gesture of defiance that only heightened the tension between them.

“Let's think from the perspective of who ever build it .If this is the only way in and out of whatever lies below, I'd want to ensure that no one can force their way through,” he explained, glancing at her.

Alex could almost feel her eyes rolling behind the cloak, an expression of exasperation he found strangely familiar. “Then how do we enter?” she pressed.

Taking a deep breath, Alex placed both hands on the boulder, feeling the rough surface beneath his palms. He focused his energy, the power of the orb swirling within him as he concentrated on the spherical object buried deep inside the stone. Magic seeped from his hands, a warm glow intertwining with the cool surface of the rock, creating an intricate dance of light and shadow.

Like a predator stalking its prey, he navigated the magical currents, wrapping them carefully around the object. He felt the world warp around him, and suddenly, he was thrust into darkness, sitting in a room devoid of any light, Incognita at his side.

“Shit,” Alex whispered, as he observed the heat signatures illuminating the space. The walls radiated a fierce warmth, glowing in vivid hues of red and orange.

“What is the problem?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity and concern.

Before he could respond, the stone floor began to pulse, symbols igniting in bright red as if the very essence of the earth were awakening. He felt it—a strong anti-magical field enveloping the room, revealing a truth he wasn’t prepared for. He quickly realized they activated an dangerous mechanism.

The runes glowed ominously, casting flickering shadows that danced like restless ghosts around them, revealing the horrific truth that had been hidden from view. The walls pulsed and writhed, composed of flesh—an abominable amalgamation of creatures melded together in a grotesque tapestry. Alex calmly took in the nightmarish sight: wolves and foxes, birds and snakes, all twisted into a single, tormented form. Among them, humanoid figures loomed—ogres, drow, humans, and dwarves, their expressions frozen in a mix of agony and rage.

The air was filled with a cacophony of desperate screams and hollowed barks, the voices of the damned echoing within the fleshy confines. Some limbs, still clutching rusted weapons, flailed wildly as if trying to escape the nightmare they were trapped in. The horrifying symphony of their anguish reverberated through their bones.

Suddenly, a tendril of flesh lashed out from the wall, aiming directly for him. Reacting on instinct, Alex dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding the grasping appendage. In the chaos, he cast a glance at Incognita, only to find her robes gone, revealing the true form beneath. She stood there, a striking young woman in her mid-twenties, clad in dark clothing that gave her the air of a gunslinger from the old West. Long, straight black hair cascaded down her back, framing her sharp red eyes that gleamed with determination. Her pointed ears caught the dim glow of the runes, adding an ethereal quality to her fierce appearance.

She met his gaze with a smirk that radiated confidence, a stark contrast to the horror surrounding them. A tendril shot toward her. With graceful agility, she sidestepped the attack, her movements fluid and precise. From her clothing, she drew a round object and hurled it at the wall with uncanny accuracy.

Time seemed to slow as Alex watched the projectile soar through the air, a bright flash of defiance amidst the despair. It struck the wall with a resounding explosion, and for a heartbeat, silence filled the chamber. But then, the wall screamed in agony, its surface igniting in flames that danced across the flesh, revealing even more horrifying details. The explosion, while powerful, only wounded a small portion of the wall, its grotesque nature undeterred.

As the runes pulsed ominously, Alex felt a debilitating drain on his strength, a suffocating pressure squeezing at his very essence. Suddenly, a blob of acid spewed from one of the countless mouths adorning the wall, hissing as it struck the ground beside him. He barely managed to dodge, the corrosive liquid sizzling the stone floor where he had stood moments before.

“Get off me!” Incognita's voice rang out, pulling Alex's attention. He turned to see her caught in a mass of writhing tendrils, their grip tightening around her arms, pulling her toward the grotesque wall. Yet, despite the overwhelming odds and the sapping magic that clawed at her strength, she resisted with fierce determination, her muscles taut with effort.

Alex dodged another tendril, adrenaline pumping through him. “Do you need some help?” he called out, attempting to lighten the tension with a smirk.

She shot him a glare, a mixture of irritation and resolve. But with a swift motion, she freed one hand, her nails elongating into deadly claws. With fierce precision, she lashed out at the tendrils, cutting through them like they were mere strands of silk. The severed appendages fell away, pooling on the ground as she dashed toward the center of the room, where Alex stood.

“Let’s finish this,” she said, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling around them. A spark of defiance ignited in her sharp red eyes, a glimmer of fierce resolve .

Alex nodded, determination coursing through him. “Time to show some of my tricks.”

Drawing upon the power of the orb, he focused intently, channeling its energy to overwhelm the oppressive anti-magic field that enveloped the room. The symbols carved into the floor began to dim, their ominous glow fading until they finally dissipated, plunging the chamber into an almost suffocating darkness. For a heartbeat, it felt as though they were suspended in a void, surrounded by screams and uncertainty.

But it was only a moment before his hand erupted with a radiant green necrotic hue, casting a ghostly light in the darkness. Incognita's gaze was drawn to him, and in the dim glow, she could see his eyes, now shimmering with the same eerie power. They burned with a fierce intensity.

With a steady hand, he waved it around, tracing arcane symbols in the air, each motion filled with purpose and conviction. He felt the energy pulse through him, a raw force that resonated with the very fabric of the room. As he finished the intricate pattern, the light momentarily dimmed again, cloaking them in darkness, a veil of anticipation hanging between them and the lurking horrors.

Then, with a sudden surge, Alex conjured orbs of light, illuminating the space around them. The darkness retreated, revealing the grotesque wall of flesh that had tried to kill them—yet now, it stood still, its writhing chaos subdued. But the moment of triumph was short-lived.

Incognita’s sharp intake of breath pierced the heavy tension that hung between them, slicing through the air like a knife. Alex turned to meet her gaze, the world around him seeming to narrow into a single, heart-stopping moment. The dim light revealed her silhouette, her demeanor radiating a chilling hostility.

In an instant, she had drawn a crossbow, its sleek form glinting ominously in the muted glow of the ruins around them. The weapon seemed to absorb the darkness, the very air around it thickening, making it feel even more lethal in her hands. With unwavering precision, she aimed it directly at Alex’s head, the tension hanging in the air like a storm poised to unleash its fury.

"You are a necromancer," she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice laced with venom .Her finger tightened around the trigger, the cold metal a harbinger of doom.

Yet, Alex’s demeanor remained eerily calm. He met her gaze with steady eyes, refusing to flinch under the weight of her accusation. "And you are a vampire," he replied evenly, as if stating a simple fact. Even if she pulled the trigger, he was quick enough to dodge the bolt. Still, this confrontation was charged with more than just the threat of death—it was steeped in something deeper.

For a heartbeat, time stretched between them, the world falling away until it was just the two of them, locked in this precarious dance .

“I know what I am,” he continued, his voice low and resonant, each word weighted with conviction. “But I'm not a necromancer in the way you think. I just used something I learned recently. I’m here because, just like you, I was sent by Lathander.”

Her resolve didn’t waver, the tip of the crossbow now pressing firmly against his forehead, a chilling reminder of the danger that loomed in the air. She was immovable.

Seeing that his words had no effect on her, he decided to show her something concrete. With a deliberate movement, his form began to glow with a radiant light, a brilliant aura that surged from within him, casting away the shadows that surrounded them. The warm luminescence filled the air, pushing back the darkness and illuminating her face.

Incognita recoiled, hissing sharply as the radiant energy burned against her cool skin, her form beginning to smoke and fizzle in the light. The crossbow trembled in her grip, and before Alex could do any lasting damage, he stopped the flow of energy, the light dimming back to a mere flicker, yet still echoing with divine power.

The shadows danced around her, cloaking her features, but even within that shroud, Alex could feel the tumult of emotions swirling within her—anger, fear, sadness. It was a tempest, raw and untamed, threatening to break free.

“The Morning Lord’s aura...” she whispered, her ruby eyes wide with realization and disbelief. The revelation struck her like a thunderbolt, dispelling some of the darkness that clouded her judgment. The crossbow dropped slightly, the tension in her shoulders loosening ever so slightly.

Without warning, she dropped to her knees before him, her head bowed as if in supplication. “Forgive me,” she murmured, her voice cracking as she began to pray, her hands clasped together as if seeking guidance. The vulnerability in her posture shattered the last remnants of animosity between them.