Chapter 3 - The Swamplands

  Robert levitated a rock the size of his fist, guiding it carefully onto a short cobblestone wall that lined the northern road out of the city. Varg sat beside the landing rock, polishing his greatsword with an oil-soaked rag. Robert focused intently as he maintained the spell, which drained his mana quickly, though his control was improving with practice.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Levitation (Level 3)]

  “Wonderful, priest,” Varg said with a laugh. “If a raid ever presents a pebble as an obstacle, I’m glad we’ll have you at our side.” He switched to a dry cloth and wiped the last of the animal fat oil from his blade until it gleamed in the harsh midday sun.

  “Good thing we’re not facing any raids soon, then,” Robert replied.

  “Don’t count on it, priest. You never know what cursed corner of this world the next Fate Quest will throw us into.”

  Robert turned his gaze from the rock down the dirt road toward a grove of dead trees swaying in the humid air.

  Alice and Oswin stood about ten paces from the dead treeline, lining up for their training lesson of the day, Robert thought. Alice had set up a makeshift target range with five sticks dangling from a dead branch by lengths of twine. Robert walked toward them across the dry, desolate farmland that had lain untended since the Reaping. They had been traveling for half a day and had stopped at an abandoned farm, once tended by some long-gone farmer, to rest, train, and refine their skills before continuing north toward the swamps for their quest.

  Robert cast Holy Shield on himself as he walked and watched his mana bar drop by a fifth. The spell was growing stronger, but the cost was steep. I’ll have to use it sparingly until my Wisdom and mana pool improve, he thought. It will be a powerful skill in the future, but the mana drain will need to be managed carefully.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Holy Shield (Level 3)]

  “Ready, aim, fire!” Alice called.

  Oswin raised his silver wand toward the dangling sticks as he cast his spell, but instead of glowing with a steady pink light, the wand began to spark and pop at the tip. With a sudden flash of pink, it cracked with fire in his grip.

  “Ow!” he yelped, dropping the wand to the dirt as he clutched his burned hand.

  Robert hurried over, his Holy Shield fading as he reached them. He cast a quick heal towards the enchanter as the white light mended the scorched skin on Oswin’s palm.

  “What spell was that?” Robert asked.

  “It’s a new spell I learned during the raid, called Disarm,” he said with a whimper. Robert thought he saw a tear in his eye as the red-haired enchanter looked the other way.

  “It’s supposed to disarm a weapon from someone’s hand, but it’s hard to make it work without causing too much damage. It nearly killed me and the bards in Morvix’s chamber,” he added.

  Robert remembered back to the violent explosion that had briefly blinded the enchanter and left one of the bards smoking. “Try again,” he said. “Repetition with these spells will ultimately lead to mastery.” At least, he hoped so.

  Robert cast another shield, this time on the training enchanter. He wasn’t sure if it would make a difference to the spell’s dangerous collateral damage but figured it couldn’t hurt, even as his mana ran low from the cast.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Holy Shield (Level 4)]

  Oswin fired his spell again, more cautiously this time. The tip of his wand glowed pink before a thin bolt of lightning shot across the air, striking the dangling stick on the right. Its bark flared hot pink, then burst apart in a fiery of wood shards.

  “Well done, Oswin!” Alice called out in support.

  “Thanks, everyone! I was aiming for the branch on the opposite side, but at least my spell didn’t fizzle this time,” he said proudly.

  “Good job, Oswin,” Robert added. He glanced toward Alice with a hint of concern but continued, “Your aim will get there.”

  The three of them returned to Varg and the mounts, where Robert spent the last of his mana levitating his final apple from Carrot’s saddlebag toward his hand just a few paces away. It fell to the ground halfway as his mana ran dry from the demanding spell. Maybe I should have picked that heal-over-time spell, he thought, doubting the choices he’d made in the heat of the raid.

  After finishing their impromptu training stop, they resumed their journey north toward the swamps of Blackfen. The name alone brought Thorros’s warning back to Robert’s mind, the worry of running into the Swamp Baron casting a shadow over their trip north. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, he thought.

  The chill in the air grew sharp as dusk settled, and the dry northern path gave way to dark, mossy wetlands.

  “Has anyone been this far north before?” Robert asked as Carrot’s hooves splashed through a shallow puddle.

  “I have,” Alice said. “My father’s tailoring business brought us north to sell fine silks from time to time. The Baron was well known for his refined tastes and... questionable governing methods.”

  “You were a tailor, Alice?” Oswin asked from behind. “Would you be able to fix my burned long coat by chance?”

  “My father was the tailor, not I,” she replied. “I only managed the books and kept the business solvent.”

  “But I’ve been around these parts long enough to know to avoid the Swamp Baron and his cohort at all costs. Hopefully he died to one of those golems,” she said curtly.

  “Agreed,” Varg said. “Most of the merchant guilds wouldn’t even do business with that scum.”

  “Well, he sounds pleasant,” Oswin added as Carrot stepped into a deep puddle. The swamp was beginning to consume the narrow, muddy trail ahead. Black water of unknown depth spread out around them, with old oaks rising from it in every direction. Dark vines crawled up their trunks as the sounds of frogs and insects brought the wet forest to life.

  “Keep your wits about you. This place doesn’t look hospitable, and we don’t know what lies in the water,” Robert called out to the group.

  “Has anyone actually seen a swamp golem before?” Oswin asked, curious.

  No one answered.

  “The map shows a red area marked up ahead,” Robert said. “Not an exact location, but the general vicinity has been given. Let’s tie the mounts before the trail ahead becomes too flooded and cover the rest on foot. I don’t think we want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

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  “Very well, priest,” Varg said as he led Killer off the trail to a patch of higher ground where a small oak jutted from the mud. There they dismounted and tied up the mounts, ready to face whatever horror this quest had prepared for them.

  After securing their mounts, the party advanced along the fading muddy trail. With each step, their boots sank deeper, the black water of the swamp pooling upward with every impact. The night stars cast a hazy glow over the dark forest as their light reflected off the still water all around.

  “Up ahead,” Robert called, closing the map in his vision. The quest had led them to a large pool of black water just off the main trail. Oaks lined its edges, their roots twisting downward, though no tree tops appeared at the center, suggesting the water was deeper than it looked.

  “Somewhere in the water,” Robert whispered.

  “Great. And how do we get it out?” Alice asked sarcastically, putting on her helm. “Anyone up for a swim?”

  “I don’t know how to swim,” Oswin admitted.

  “Gods, man, how do you not know how to swim? Were there no lakes where you sprouted from?” Varg rumbled.

  “Everyone quiet down. I’m going to try something,” Robert said as he stepped toward the still, dark water. “Let’s see if this wakes it up.”

  He dipped the tip of his staff beneath the surface of the water and cast Holy Light. The black pool illuminated with a white glow that spread outward from his staff. Beneath the rippling surface, Robert saw the faint silhouette of a massive shape suspended in the depths, its long, tentacle-like limbs stretching in every direction, anchoring it beneath the water like some enormous spider in its web.

  This was supposed to be a rare quest, Robert thought grimly as he saw the creature’s form twitch beneath the surface.

  “Robert!” Alice called. He looked back to see her drawing an arrow, its tip sparking with fire. “Best back up now,” she warned, as Varg drew his greatsword.

  Before Robert could respond, a green, slimy vine shot out of the water and wrapped tightly around his staff. With no time to think, Robert instinctively gripped the staff with both hands, resisting the pull of the vine, but its strength was impossibly great. The vine yanked hard, flinging him forward into the black pool.

  He hit the water with a heavy splash, the icy chill knocking the breath from his lungs. The vine released his staff as he collided with the surface, but his plate breastplate and soaked linens dragged him downward into the murky depths. He kicked and thrashed, struggling to reach the surface as the darkness of the swamp water swallowed him whole.

  Above him, Robert could make out a massive dark shape rising through the water, its form distorted by the blur of the depths he was drowning in. Two streaks of fire flashed across the surface, igniting the creature in a burst of orange light. Its muffled roar thundered through the water, shaking Robert to his core.

  No point saving mana if I’m dead, he thought as he cast Levitation, his staff trembling as the spell surged through it. His body grew lighter, rising through the cold water until he broke the surface with a desperate gasp for air. He shot upward out of the pool, but as his mana gave out, the spell faded, and he crashed back down into the mud with a painful thud.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Levitation (Level 4)]

  “Robert!” Oswin called as he rushed toward him.

  Robert caught his breath in the mud, watching as Alice fired two more flaming arrows toward the swamp golem. The creature dragged itself toward the shoreline, its long green vines writhing through the water. Its twisted body of black and green seemed to be made entirely of those same vines, which shot out in every direction from its shapeless mass. Aside from four long, block-like limbs, the creature had no true hands or feet that Robert could see. It uses the vines for its grasp, he thought.

  The beast roared from a black void of a maw in its chest as Alice’s flaming arrows erupted against its swampy hide. Where is its head? he thought as Varg paced the shoreline, shouting obscenities at the monster while waiting for his chance to strike, trying to draw its attention. But the creature ignored him, launching a vine toward Alice in a rapid strike as she notched another arrow. It wrapped around her leg, yanking her off balance and dragging her through the mud as she grasped for anything to anchor herself against the slick ground.

  “Get her!” Robert shouted to Oswin as he stumbled to his feet.

  The enchanter sprinted toward the ranger, who was being pulled toward the water. Alice drew a dagger and stabbed it into the mud, but the ground was too slick, and she kept sliding inch by inch toward the pool.

  Varg leapt at the creature in response to Alice’s plight, the beast still half-submerged in the black pool. He brought his sword down in a heavy strike that pierced its chest. He roared in defiance, face to face with the monster as its tentacles coiled around him. Slowly, the golem sank back beneath the black water, dragging Varg with it.

  “Varg!” Robert cried, rushing past Oswin as they both ran to reach Alice.

  She managed to grab hold of a root just as more tentacles shot from the water to meet them. Two whipped toward Oswin, but he flipped to the side as they struck Robert, knocking him sprawling in the mud. He slid himself forward and caught Alice by the arm as she drew another hidden dagger, slashing through the thin vine around her leg that was dragging her in.

  “Oswin! Do you have an electrical enchantment? If so, use it on the water now!”

  Oswin backflipped off a fallen log as the two vines chasing him lashed out again, but the slippery enchanter was too fast.

  “I’m on the job, Robert!” he shouted, drawing his silver wand. With a blinding spark, pink lightning burst from the tip, striking the black water in a brilliant flash that lit the dark forest.

  Robert shielded his eyes from the glare as it faded. Lightning danced across the surface of the large pool until its energy died away. The vines that had been chasing Oswin went limp and dropped to the ground as smoke rose from their green, scorched husks.

  “Varg!” Robert shouted toward the water. He and Alice rose to their feet as he downed his last mana potion, wincing at the acidic taste. He tossed the empty vial aside and rushed back into the cold pool. Casting Holy Light once more, he and Alice dove into the black depths in search of the fallen warrior.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Holy Light (Level 5)]

  They found Varg lying atop the dead swamp golem near the bottom, unconscious and pinned beneath the water by his heavy armor. Robert cast a heal, and the warrior jolted awake in panic, thrashing as bubbles escaped his mouth. Robert reached him, wrapping his arms around the big man’s broad frame as Alice swam in to assist.

  Robert began casting Levitation, the spell lifting them slowly as all three kicked toward the surface. They were heavier than they needed to be, as Varg refused to let go of his greatsword, but Robert couldn’t fault him. He would have done the same for his staff if the situation called for it. The spell’s pull carried them upward as Robert’s mana drained rapidly. They didn’t make it all the way to the surface, but the spell arced them forward enough to reach the shallows of the pool, where they stumbled upward through the muck and broke through with a collective gasp for air.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Levitation (Level 5)]

  “Varg, are you alright?” Robert gasped.

  The big man coughed up a mouthful of black water before replying, “Aye, priest. I don’t know what happened. I had the thing on its hind legs when it started to electrocute me into unconsciousness.”

  “That sounds terrible,” Oswin shouted from the shoreline. “The good news is you’re alive.”

  [Quest Completed - The Swamp Golem]

  [The Hour Unspent: 26 days remain]

  The party dragged themselves, muddy and exhausted, back to their mounts still waiting by the oak tree. Robert sank onto a wet rock, trying to wring the dark water and mud from his once-white cloak as Alice did the same with her hair. Robert’s cloak looked awful now and would need a proper cleaning, but at least the stitching was still intact, he thought.

  “Are we going to need more party members to complete these quests?” Robert asked as his breathing finally steadied.

  “For a level twenty-one rare quest, that was something else,” Alice said.

  “Bah, we had it under control,” Varg barked.

  “You drowned, and everyone had to save you,” Alice shot back.

  “Hah!” Varg laughed. “Whatever you say, ranger,” he replied with a grin, taking a swig from his waterskin.

  [System: Warning! Telepathic presence detected.]

  Huh? Robert thought, standing from the rock and glancing around. “Did anyone else receive that message?” he asked.

  “What message?” Alice replied, confused.

  Then Robert heard it, a voice echoing not in his ears but in his mind.

  Hello, my guests... my friends... What an honor it is to have such brave and worthy adventurers travel into my lands.

  “Does anyone hear that?” Robert asked, eyes darting toward the others.

  “Yes,” Alice said, worry in her voice. Varg only nodded, his expression grim.

  “Hear what?” Oswin asked. “I don’t hear anything. What is everyone talking about?”

  It has been so lonely of late... and I would be honored if you joined me for dinner.

  The voice grew softer, almost soothing in their ears.

  But first, rest now, great adventurers. Sleep... and you shall join me shortly. Sleep and dream of the oak, of the frog, of the black water... dream of the swamp.

  And then Robert fell into darkness.