Kamil Velibor, silhouetted against the sun, descended on Redmane at terminal velocity.
Redmane decided he’d rather not be there when he landed.
He leapt backward, and when Velibor impacted on the ground it kicked up a wave of rocks, grass and dirt which pelted Redmane in the face, spraying outward from a newly formed crater.
Velibor streaked out of that crater, straight at Redmane.
Howling like a beast, eyes wild with berserk fury, he swung his greatsword as if it were weightless, wide arcs which would have been simple to evade if a warrior of normal strength were attacking. But Velibor was far beyond normal strength. His sword whipped through the air so fast it could barely be seen, and though it struck nothing Redmane knew by the sheer force of its passing that those swings would deliver stone-splitting force.
Redmane had Bloodthirst to keep him quick, but to his dismay he noted the deaths of Ser Bogdan and Ser Kuggi reduced the number of Bleeding stacks in play. All was not lost though. Velibor had a few on him, though at the moment they did not seem to deter him they still benefited Redmane. As did Ser Grimgarl, who remained down on a knee nearby, watching the battle. And Ser Aerin Morholt was… Somewhere.
He’d vanished.
Tracking wasn’t picking him up. He only had a vague sense of a presence nearby, but it could not be pinpointed.
He must have some Skill or item to conceal him.
Not very knightly of Aerin Morholt. Redmane made a note to chastise him about it later.
In the mean time he thought it prudent to ready a failsafe for sneak-attacks.
Flicker
Gnosis: 49
That would be the only chance he’d be able to give himself.
Meanwhile, he weaved and slipped between Velibor’s wild swings, eyes fixed on his berserking foe. Feeling impressed. If he’d chosen the Warrior class, this is the path he would have taken. Though he noted a significant flaw, the fact that Velibor was especially easy to dupe in this state. Redmane kept hopping backward, moving off of those furious sweeping strikes, leading the young knight toward a corner of the clearing with a climbable mound of boulders. A tighter space, where that large weapon would be less effective.
He also wanted to put his back to something solid, before an unfriendly sword pierced it.
Too late.
Redmane’s eyes widened mid-dodge. He sensed a Prey item the instant it appeared right behind him, but not fast enough for him to react before an attack could come.
Flicker
Good thing he’d prepared for it.
Aerin stabbed, and Redmane’s Skill dragged him through space as if he’d been caught by a fisherman and reeled in. With gut wrenching speed it hauled him backward, deposited him behind Aerin Morholt.
He had precious little Gnosis left, so a plain old clawing would have to do.
Redmane raked straight down, carving four lines of bright red from the nape of Aerin’s neck down to his lower back, rending the fine white cloak he wore. The knight howled in pain and staggered forward, before Ser Velibor bowled him over on his way to Redmane with another blinding slash.
Morholt had been dealt a grievous blow but he was a tough one. He rolled to his feet, spat blood on the earth and lunged in to join his comrade.
Aerin and Velibor closed in on Redmane with relentless drive, precision and raw power unified. Aerin moved with calculated aggression, his eye sought openings and his hand filled them with well-placed thrusts and slashes. He had to navigate around Velibor's unpredictable swings, the greatsword carving through the air with reckless abandon. But they were a dangerous tandem, Aerin's focus and Velibor's brute force, despite Aerin having to constantly adjust his position to avoid being blindsided by Velibor's wild strikes. With patience and timing he waited for opportune moments and seized them.
If he hadn’t just now fought his divine son, he might have more resources to deal with this situation.
But there were options still.
Carnivorous Metamorph
Gnosis: 39
The wings of the Manticore burst from his back and he leapt, beating them furiously to gain altitude. He made for the rocks, as per his original plan, and on his way he swept his claw through the air in their direction, sending out another cutting wave. Redmane noted that it seemed to expand the farther it traveled. By the time it reached Morholt and Velibor it blanketed their whole area, left four huge furrows in the grass.
Aerin had the presence of mind to evade. Velibor did not. The wave drew two fresh slashmarks across his body, but still he charged.
Straight into the air.
The force of Velibor’s takeoff cratered the ground, much the same way his landing had. And in an instant Redmane was again face to face with a howling berserker and the lethal end of a greatsword flashing in the sun.
Redmane tried to evade, but in flight it wasn’t so simple.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
So they struck each other.
Corpus: 1110
The sword split Redmane open from shoulder to hip, sent him sailing backward with such force that he lost all control of his flight.
Redmane’s claw left four gashes precisely down the middle of Velibor’s body, face and all, sending him hurtling back to earth.
He twisted in the air, shook off the daze, managed to right his posture before crashing on the rocks. Instead he made a stumbling landing, wheeled around to keep his opponents in view.
Ser Velibor lay motionless on the grass.
Aerin Morholt leapt from rock to rock to get to him, dirty, sweaty and bleeding from wounds all over his body. But his eyes were fixed on Redmane and they were full of murder.
Redmane’s claws met Aerin’s blades with a sharp clang that echoed through the clearing. They circled each other, feet shifting on the uneven ground. Redmane lashed out, seeking to break Aerin's defense. Aerin parried, his sword a blur. Each man patiently waiting for an opening, testing the other’s guard to probe for one, all too aware the next wound could be their last.
A part of his mind advised him to take wing again, use the new quality of his claws to finish him from afar. Morholt had no ranged attacks Redmane had seen. It would be easy.
But the rest of him wanted the opposite. A face to face kill. He wanted to see the look in Aerin Morholt’s eyes when he realized his life was over.
Redmane feinted left, drawing Aerin's guard, but the knight corrected it when he saw the claw coming for his open side.
Aerin lunged forward behind the point of his sword and Redmane sidestepped, claws ripping across Aerin's arm.
The knight winced, and his grip on his weapon faltered. Redmane pressed him, claws striking again and Aerin stumbled, trying to regain his balance.
Redmane seized the moment, closed the distance.
He made his hand into a spear and stabbed it into Aerin's chest, piercing through. Aerin gasped, eyes wide with shock.
There it was. That look.
Redmane grinned and twisted his hand inside Aerin’s body, making the knight gurgle, convulse and cough up bright red blood.
“You think it’s over, I imagine,” said Redmane. “Oh no, Aerin Morholt. I’ve only begun to enjoy your company.”
Aerin’s bloodshot eyes fixed on Redmane. His body shook. “Wh-wha—“
Redmane’s gaze bored into him.
He did not explain.
He simply ate.
Level Up
Level 105 —> 106
Level 106 —> 107
Quality Points awaiting allocation: 6
Corpus: 3571
There was a moment during digestion where he could feel the soul of Aerin Morholt in transit toward its dissolution.
He spared it. Sent it to his Soulspace.
But he kept the door closed, for now.
This meal had some other peculiarities he had to examine.
The weapons he recognized, but Aerin Morholt wore two interesting pieces of attire as well. Taken as a set, they appeared to tell a story.
—
Sicarius Sword
Curved Sword (Melee Weapon)
Weapon Profile:
Damage +30
Evasion Negation 10 (Fast 5)
Spirit Touch (Godslayer 1)
Vorpal (Godslayer 1)
Elegant curved sword with an opalescent color. Wielded by the Sicarius.
The blades of the Sicarius are forged from Numantian Star-Steel, an alloy that can slay Divine Flesh.
Sicarius Dagger
Curved Dagger (Light Melee Weapon)
Weapon Profile:
Damage +30
Evasion Negation 10 (Fast 5)
Spirit Touch (Godslayer 1)
Vorpal (Godslayer 1)
Elegant curved dagger with an opalescent color. Wielded by the Sicarius.
No enemy is safe from the blade of a God Slayer.
Pearl Phantom Cloak
Vestment (Cloak)
Passive
When the wearer dons the hood of this cloak, they become temporarily invisible and incorporeal. This invisibility effect lasts for one hour per day and night, and the effect is broken if the wearer deliberately acts in an overt manner, such as attacking a creature, throwing an object or speaking in a loud voice.
White silken cloak, with a clasp made of Star-Steel.
Worn by Numantian officials who perform clandestine tasks.
God Slayer’s Oculus
Talisman (Neck)
Passive
Allows the wearer to perceive incorporeal beings.
Silver medallion inlaid with nine gems, symbolizing the eyes of the Nine.
The Nine brook no insubordination from lesser gods. Their loyal blades find any recusant, no matter where they hide.
—
How had he acquired these?
Redmane imagined the Sicarius weren’t in the habit of issuing their equipment to rank and file Imbued.
Then his eyes went wide, realizing what happened.
The Sicarius who washed up on the shore of the Bear River. The dead one they had fed to him. The thing that started all of this.
Helmold must have found these items and smuggled them out of the castle with Aric. Clever bastard.
The weapons wouldn’t help him, and he’d already eaten a God Slayer’s Oculus. But the cloak would be a fine acquisition. So he ate that, and saved the weaponry and the trinket to give to allies later. When digested, Pearl Phantom Cloak became a Skill. Redmane’s eyebrow rose when he noticed the Pearl Phantom Cloak Skill grew an activation cost of 10 Gnosis. But since there was no longer a hood to doff, he supposed it made sense.
With that sorted, it occurred to him that he had a stack of Quality Points to spend.
Might 60 —> 61
Fortitude 55 —> 60
Redmane thought his arm might be able to deliver stone-splitting force now too.
He glanced at a boulder next to him. It was about half again as tall as he was. He walked up to it and struck with as much force as he could muster and there was a thunderous crack that echoed off the walls of the clearing as it split cleanly down the middle, falling apart into two identical halves.
Redmane grinned and closed his fist, flexed his arm, enjoying the feeling of the power in his frame. But the sound of coughing drew his attention. He turned to see Kamil Velibor alive and kneeling, propped on his palms as he retched, painting the grass with blood. A glance to the right reminded him Ser Grimgarl still lived as well, though he looked to be barely hanging on.
What to do with them…
Execution would be the simplest thing. But it wasn’t strictly necessary, unless they gave him a reason to expect revenge.
Redmane approached the injured duo, stood over them.
“I yield,” said Ser Velibor, his head downcast.
Redmane’s gaze shifted to Ser Grimgarl. “And you?”
His grin faltered a bit, but he nodded, wiped some blood from his mouth with the back of his wrist. “Aye. I’m leakin pretty bad.”
“I know not what you were told, but what just took place was a personal matter. I have no quarrel with either of you, unless you have some with me,” said Redmane.
“I’d prefer to keep on livin, I think,” said Grimgarl.
“If my service to the realm should be permitted to continue, then let it be so,” said Velibor, his voice weak from blood loss.
Redmane pondered them.
He could eat them. Make them Spawn.
Or he could admit them into his Faction.
But he’d had at least one seditious Faction member already.
He supposed he could give them a chance at the second option, and if their loyalty was found to be lacking, he’d always have recourse to the first.
“Leave your Faction and join House Redmane, and you will be spared,” he said.
Velibor and Grimgarl looked at each other. Grimgarl smiled wryly, and Velibor nodded. Their eyes went distant for a moment.
House Redmane has received Faction Membership Requests:
Aleksander Grimgarl (Warrior)
Kamil Velibor (Warrior)
Do you accept these applicants?
Yes/No
Redmane accepted.
Their first test of loyalty would be helping him wrangle Helmold Brecht and Aric Morholt.
He had a fine punishment in mind for Aric in particular…
PATREON
