Somewhere around Sweetwater, TX

Alison carefully approached the abandoned farm building.

At least she thought it was abandoned. There was no light, no movement, and most of the windows were broken.

But abandoned did not mean without danger.

The worst had been the gigantic cockroaches.

Alison shuddered at the memory, but then forced herself to focus on the task. Distractions could mean injury or death.

When she reached one of the windows, she paused briefly to listen for any noise that might indicate that the house was not as abandoned as it seemed.

Nothing.

With a quiet sigh of relief, her shoulders sagged down, and she relaxed a tiny bit. Only now she realized how tense she had been.

After she had collected herself, she raised her hand and waved a couple of times, hoping that there was still enough light for the others to see. Darkness was approaching quickly, and it was high time that they found cover for the night because monsters were roaming after sunset. Some of them mutated native creatures, but there were also other… things. Creatures right out of nightmares.

A minute later, Hank, De’Andre, and Claire reached Alison, and the four of them made their way into the house, eager for the protection it would provide.

De’Andre immediately started moving furniture around to barricade the doors and windows and create a more defensible position, while Hank went into the basement hunting for cans of food or some other edibles left behind by the previous owners.

Claire, meanwhile, was sitting on her heels in the corner of the main room, gently rocking back and forth. After a few seconds, Alison cursed and went over to her.

“How are you feeling?” She whispered quietly.

But Claire gave no response at all. Just like it had been for the last few days. She followed along, ran when she was told to run, shat when she was told to shat, but otherwise did not do much at all.

“Your mind just snapped, huh?” Alison quietly said. “Can’t blame ya. Might be better than this hell. But, you know, the others think that you aren’t pulling your weight and that we should cut you loose. Mind you, not me, but, you know, Hank in particular.”

Claire didn’t respond.

“Hey, Alison, could you help me for a sec with that frame?” De’Andre grunted from the kitchen area. “It is a bit unwieldy.”

With a small pout, Alison got up and helped De’Andre wedge a bed frame into a narrow space between the fridge and the oven, effectively blocking the door to the backyard for anything but smaller critters.

“So, De’Andre, I meant to ask you, how do you get along with Hank? He’s a tad condescending, right?”

“Hmpf, well, yeah, but, you know, he is that type,” De’Andre responded distractedly while pushing a mattress behind the frame to stabilize the barrier even further. “Why? Has he said anything to you?”

“Well, not like directly, but I see how he looks at you and me and Claire. I think we are nothing but baggage to him.”

“Oh? Well, he didn’t seem exactly enthused when we decided to come along. At least at first. But I think he is alright. A little weird, perhaps,” De’Andre responded after hesitating for a moment.

“Maybe. But, if, you know… if he gets weird. You will protect me, right?” Alison said pleadingly while touching his arm lightly with her hand.

De’Andre stared onto her hand, resting on his arm, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh, hmm, yeah, of course, Al… Alison. I will, like,… yes.”

Embarrassed, De’Andre turned around and hustled for more chairs to further protect their little hideout.

Suppressing a smile, Alison busied herself with rummaging through the various drawers to see if she could find something useful. She needed a bigger knife. The kitchen knife she had was only about five inches long, which was quite underwhelming when it came to fighting monsters.

A short while later, Hank came back up with a couple of boxes filled with all sorts of canned food and even some sweets.

“Bingo!” He crowed while unloading his treasure. “This should keep us going for a few days, at least. Finally something else than ramen noodles and black beans.”

“Hank, you are the best,” Alison said, smiling radiantly at him. “Do you mind if I take the chocolate? I am dying to eat chocolate! Pretty please?”

She leaned forward to rummage through the pile of food Hank had provided.

“Wait a moment, I think that this should be…”

“Yes?” Alison asked, looking up with an innocent expression, all too aware that her low-cut t-shirt was giving Hank quite the spectacular view. “Please?”

“I… fine. You can have the chocolate,” Hank grumbled without taking his eyes away.

And then, just like the previous nights, the howling started, and dark shapes approached the house from all directions.

--------------------------------------------------

Daniel

To be honest, all I wanted to do next was run into my hiding place and recover. My left hand hurt like a bitch, the cracked ribs in my chest sent stabs of blinding pain through my body whenever I moved, and my right arm was almost as useful as a wet noodle after all the hacking and slashing.

But…

There was only one elven body around, face smashed beyond recognition, and entrails spread all over. So two more elves might be potentially alive. And… fuck, I mean, I wasn’t an altruist or anything, but to leave a person, or an elf, in the hands of these vile creatures rubbed me wrong. If there was anything I could do to save them, I should at least try.

Unless the odds were terrible.

And it wasn’t all about helping others either. I mean, clearly, I was outmatched in this fucking dungeon, so if I could team up with some cool elves, that would raise my chances exponentially.

Plus, I did not have to commit right now. All I had to do was scout the situation and then make up my mind. Maybe the geezer had fallen asleep, and all I needed to do was chop its head off.

Yeah, right.

Fat chance for that.

But before running around helter-skelter, getting into new trouble, I needed to do something about my injuries and salvage some equipment.

Quickly, I searched the bodies of the elf and a couple of the goblins and came away with an upgrade to my sword and dagger, each looking as if pattern-welded from different alloys, giving the blade a beautiful appearance and a more flexible feel. A bit like those famous Damascus blades from a few centuries ago.

In addition to the magnificent weapons, I grabbed the lantern, its formerly beautiful burnished finish now marred by a couple of big dents, the dark, velvety stealth-cloak, and a blood-soaked shirt that was way too long for me, but better than running around bare-chested.

Weirdly enough, the elf did not have any food on it, just a waterskin full of some red liquid. At first, I thought it was wine, but when I took a tentative sip, I immediately had to suppress the urge to vomit when the bitter metallic taste filled my mouth.

Shaking my head in disbelief at the vile liquid, I looked around for anything else of use, when my eyes fell on the crown on top of the goblin king’s head. Perhaps crown was too generous of a term… maybe circlet was a more apt description. It consisted of a thin band of metal, probably copper, and attached to it, as if welded, numerous teeth of all ilk.

I was no expert on teeth, by any stretch, but a few of the teeth looked like what I thought might be human teeth. The rest… well, some of them seemed quite scary. What struck me was that four of them were still bloody, as if from a very recent kill. And those teeth looked rather scary – long, slightly curved, and wickedly sharp. To top it all off, they seemed to be hollow in the middle, for what purpose was unclear.

While I was all for looting, I was not sure if I should pick up that crown. It looked a bit shabby, to be honest. Then again, perhaps it was enchanted? After all, the goblin king surely was some kind of boss monster. Or at least a high leveled monster.

After a brief hesitation, I grabbed the circlet with my right hand and pulled it off the goblin’s head.

Or I tried to at least.

The circlet did not budge.

I pulled harder. Finally, when I put even more strength into it, the crown began to move a tiny bit, and then, with a sudden tear, it came loose. Pieces of skin were ripped out of the goblin’s head, which made me realize that the teeth weren’t, as I had thought, purely decorative, but had actually been partially dug into the gobs skull. And the teeth were… moving.

Disgusted by the grisly sight, I dropped the revolting crown to the floor and moved a few feet away, keeping my eyes trained on the artifact.

There was no telling what kind of magic was imbued in that thing.

Maybe I should smash it to smithereens with the ax?

But then again, maybe that would lead to a giant explosion or a vengeful spirit or some similar shit… better to just leave it be and forget about it.

Instead of wasting even more time, I moved back to my little hiding room to do some healing.

Once there, I reluctantly raised my left hand to get a good look at the damage. The pinky was gone, wound still trickling blood. A quick dose of amber mana with healing intent solved the bleeding issue, but, of course, did not return my little finger.

If the fat asshole had not eaten it, I might have been able to reattach the digit, but like that, there was nothing left but the fingernail. Could I, perhaps, attach a little finger from the elf or one of the goblins? Could I overcome the rejection from my body? After all, people used cadaverous ligaments routinely, so why not cadaverous limbs? It might be worth a shot, but probably not in the middle of a dungeon, alone, and with time pressing.

And it was just the pinky after all.

Its absence looked weird to me, and I could almost feel my pinky as if it was still there, but it was not the end of the world. I have never been the prettiest boy out there, and this would not make a world of difference.

More important were the two remaining broken fingers. The flesh around them was swollen and red, and they send a throbbing pain through my body, that was uncomfortable when sitting still, and almost unbearable when moving around vigorously.

The problem was that if I was to heal them with the bones not appropriately aligned, I was afraid that it might permanently cripple me. So there was no helping it, I had to straighten the fingers out.

Right hand clammy with apprehension, I grabbed my left index finger and… yanked it forward.

“Shit, shit, shit,” was all I could mumble, while tears streamed down my face. But I had done it. The finger looked straight.

And I knew that waiting would just sap my courage, so I grabbed the middle finger right after and repeated the process. The pain made me clench my teeth and pound my right fist on the tile-floor, but soon the agony receded enough for me to start the healing process.

Fifteen minutes later, the swelling was reduced, and the pain had mostly disappeared apart from a dull background ache that served as a good reminder that not all was good. The bone had been set, but, based on the feeling I got from flexing my hand, it was not fully healed.

Maybe my healing spell was not powerful enough for that. Or perhaps magic could only do so much.

Based on what I had seen, I suspected it was the former.

But it made a world of difference. At least I felt ok running around like that, even if not grabbing on to anything with my left hand.

Another ten minutes later, I had fully exhausted my amber mana, but my chest felt a lot better as well. Again, not perfect, for that I would have needed more time, but at least I was ready to move around without too much pain.

Before moving on, I decided to take a quick peek at any progress I had made with mana, skills, and spells, easily my favorite part of adventuring so far.

Name

Daniel Hollander

Rank

Initiate 1

Title:

Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty II

Strength:

11.25 [+2]

Intuitive Reasoning:

15 [+1]

Mana

Free

Current

Potential

Agility:

7 [+1]

Complex Reasoning:

17

Silver

0

1

10

Speed:

6 [+1]

Emotional Intelligence:

9

Black

11 [+6]

1

55

Dexterity:

6 [+1]

Perception:

14 [+1]

Amber

2 [+2]

0

21

Endurance:

10 [+2]

Spatial Awareness:

21

Green

48 [+42]

0

0

Vitality:

9.6 [+1]

Willpower:

21

Red

42 [+6]

0

0

Purple

7 [+7]

0

0

White

5 [+5]

0

0

Available characteristic points: 4

Spells

Mana Vision

Level 11 [+2]

Twilight Vision

Level 1

Minor Healing

Level 8 [+1]

Shadow Skin

Level 4 [+2]

Shadow Sense

Level 1

Midnight Skin

Level 1

Partial Incorporeality

Level 2 [+2]

Available spell points: 0

Skills

Mental Ward

Level 8 [+3]

Mental Fortitude

Level 10 [+3]

Multitasking

Level 2

Internal Mana Manipulation

Level 7 [+4]

Meditation

Level 3 [+1]

External Mana Manipulation

Level 2 [+1]

Sword Fighting

Level 10

Available skill points: 0

I certainly had made some progress. That goblin king had given me an assfull of green mana, it seemed, useless as that was to me. But at least it looked as if my victory had upgraded my title Against the Mighty to level two, which… apparently added another five percent to my strength score.

Oh yeah, baby… I was gonna be the Hulk in no time flat. Without the regeneration and the green skin. And the rage. Well, ok, just a really strong dude. Not there yet, of course, with a fairly average 11.25. But that twenty-five percent was going to be huge.

Of course, another twenty percent rather than a paltry five percent would have been even better, but I suspected that the ‘system’ considered my contribution and, in all fairness, I probably did about a quarter of the work. At least it had judged that I had defeated the creature all by myself, which was a bit of a stretch. So, all in all, I couldn’t complain about an extra five percent.

No big surprises with the skills and spells. Most things had leveled up nicely with the most notable progress for Internal Mana Manipulation, Mental Ward, and Mental Fortitude. No big surprise there, with my training and the constant barrage of mushroom spores in the cave and the old goblin beating up on my poor brain.

As much as I would have loved to map out my further progression towards supremacy, it was time to go searching for the elves.

Stepping out into the grand chamber, I was relieved to find that nothing had moved any of the goblins or the dead elf. Not that I had any further plans for those, but at least it indicated that in all likelihood, no one had shown up during the last half hour. Which was good news, because that probably implied that there were no additional reinforcements in the throne room, which was where I was heading next.

Not sure how the stealth cloak worked, I simply wrapped it tightly around me while making my way carefully out of the grand chamber and up the staircase. Worst case scenario, it didn’t do anything, but at least would keep me warmer. Ideally, of course, it would give me some camouflage or stealth capability because I was entirely tapped out of black mana, or any mana for that matter.

For the time being, I had also decided against wearing the bloody shirt of the elf, because, well, it was still wet and I just couldn’t make myself slip it over my head.

As I got closer to the throne room, I heard cackling, followed by some unmelodic humming.

It was creepy as hell.

Careful to stay hidden behind the partially open doors, I looked into the room beyond. And what I saw made my blood freeze.

Elrond was lying on the floor, in the middle of a hexagon or octagon or something similar. The details were hard to make out from a distance.

He was lying ramrod straight, pointed toward the pedestal with the weird crystal on top, arms stretched over his head as if in a yoga prayer pose. And he looked… deflated, somehow. As if there was only a husk left of the formerly beautiful person.

On the other side of the pedestal, in a smaller rune-circle, or whatever that was, the old goblin was standing with its eyes closed, almost looking ecstatic. Its arms were stretched toward the sphere on top of the podium perfectly aligned with the arms of Elrond as if linking via the crystal.

Which probably was exactly what was going on.

And the goblin, in contrast to Elrond, seemed to have a jolly good time of it. Its back was arched, eyes rolled back, and its body was trembling from pleasure, while it was humming in a slightly squeaking voice. And while not much was left of Elrond, the old goblin almost palpably exuded vitality.

For a moment I thought about rushing in there, and disrupting the ritual, hoping to save Elrond and perhaps have some type of magical backlash injure, if not outright kill the gob. But Elrond looked like a goner, so even if everything worked out the way I imagined, and that was a big if, because I had no fucking clue how all of this worked, Elrond probably was too close to death already anyway.

Which left Legolas.

I scanned the rest of the room, trying to find a trace of him, but he was not there. Maybe he was already dead. Or he had escaped somehow. Or… well, all kinds of things could have happened.

Which got me back to square one.

The gob seemed quite distracted, so maybe I should go after him, even if it wasn’t going to save Elrond. It was unlikely that I would find a better opportunity any time soon – no guards, no king, the gob preoccupied...

Mind made up, I moved my ass through the doors and stealthily shuffled along the wall, trying to circle behind the old goblin. After a few more steps, I was right behind gramps gob and, sword ready to strike, sneaked closer.

Ten steps to go.

Five more steps, almost there.

I was nervous. For a moment, I felt a slight tickling in my brain, as if an ant was moving inside of my skull.

Probably me getting the jitters.

‘It is just an old, frail, gob. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, Daniel,’ I thought to myself.

I took a deep breath and jumped forward. The sword whistled through the air as it descended on the neck of the goblin and… slid right through its whole body without resistance.

What the fuck?

I stared at the goblin in front of me. It was completely unharmed. In fact, it had not even changed its position at all or shown any reaction whatsoever.

Again, I felt the odd tingling sensation in my brain. An unscratchable itch.

Suddenly, dark tentacles began to emerge from the floor, searching around, blindly for something to grab. One of them wrapped around one of the columns and pulled. Plaster began to flake off the column, and the few remaining statues that had been lining the occasional alcove, crumbled to the floor in pieces, raising clouds of dust. More and more of the tentacles emerged from all over the throne room, and it was only a matter of time before they would cover the area I was in.

I stumbled back a few steps, desperately trying to avoid the questing shadow arms, staring in shock at the power displayed by the tentacle wrapped around the column.

How was I supposed to fight something like that?

By now, the stone pillar showed substantial cracks, and seconds later, the lower part came crashing down. The top part of the column was hanging from the ceiling rafters… wait.

What?

That did not make any sense.

Those rafters were supposed to be supported by the column, not vice versa. And, for that matter, a couple of the tentacles just crossed each other in front of me… either they had substance, or they didn’t. Can’t have it both ways.

And there hadn’t really been any noise either.

Abruptly, the tentacles disappeared, and I was left standing in the same, original throne room, flabbergasted, and hands raised protectively.

Which probably looked quite foolish now that the tentacles had vanished.

Then I heard cackling from a few steps behind.

I whirled around and saw the old goblin stand next to one of the columns, with a smirk on its face.

“You are dead, fucker,” I growled and jumped forward, sword ready to impale the goblin. Right before I reached the creature, I felt the tickle again, and then the goblin moved to the left.

But not far enough.

A quick side-step and the sword tip went right for the chest of the goblin… only to meet no resistance whatsoever.

“Shit,” I cursed.

By now, it was obvious that the tickle or tingle in my brain was some type of spell or skill by the goblin that caused hallucinations. Or maybe illusions.

But how do you fight that?

Obviously, my mental barriers weren’t quite up to snuff to stop that type of attack. More training was needed, I guessed.

So… close my eyes?

Worth a shot.

I stopped moving and just listened for any noise, eyes closed.

There, a few steps to my right, a slight shuffling sound. Immediately, I moved forward, slashing with my sword in random patterns around my body.

Awkward as fuck, but at least I wasn’t fooled visually any longer.

I only had to hope that the goblin could not suddenly come up with illusions of sounds or textures.

After stumbling around for a minute or so, swinging my sword around like a fool, I heard the goblin grumbling in an annoyed tone, and suddenly the same bone-crushing, oppressive force that had previously knocked me out was back.

This time, though, I felt that there was less pressure. It felt… manageable.

Perhaps the goblin was weaker.

Or maybe I had gotten used to resisting that type of mental attack. My stats and skills had gone up significantly, after all.

I fought back with all I had, wishing fervently to have some reserves of silver mana available.

Alas, I only had recovered a tiny amount by then, and, even if I used it all, I was sure that it wasn’t going to make a huge difference.

So it was down to grit.

I visualized myself as holding a castle, a bastion against the darkness pushing in from all sides, challenging my defenses. A vastly superior foe held at bay by the determination of the defender. Pure grit, repelling attack after attack, driving the aggressor into a futile rage.

After a minute of resisting against the pressure, I opened my eyes and glared at the goblin, standing just a few steps away from me. And it gave me immense pleasure to see that I had wiped the smirk off the goblins face. Its brows were narrowed in concentration, and it was groaning slightly as if under immense strain.

Not that I was doing any better.

The few clothes I still had were soaked in sweat, and I could feel a pounding headache forming behind my eyes. A slow dribble of blood ran down from my nose over my lips, forming small droplets of blood at my scraggly excuse for a beard.

And then my arms and legs started cramping up.

But through all this, I held fast.

After another minute, the goblin seemed to realize that I was a tough nut to crack, and it redoubled its effort. And slowly, but surely, I felt that my mental defenses crumbling.

But, apparently not fast enough for the old goblin.

With an annoyed huff, it stretched out its right arm toward the crystal in the center of the room, and suddenly, the pressure on me increased exponentially, crushing my mental defenses like cheap tin foil.

Darkness descended on me.