Octavius walked down the left tunnel, the sound of his footfalls failing to travel more than a few feet away from him. As the tunnel continued, the walls became smooth, the floor level, and the arch of the roof became exact and symmetrical. The carvings of knots on the walls split and stretched from waist height to become borders of a more complex carving.

On the grey stone of the right wall, there was carved a complex relief. It depicted a battlefield—there were thousands of individually carved figures. The figures wore robes or armor; some carried polearms, and others merely thrust their arms into the air. From one such figure, a massive serpent of fire erupted from between his hands. The figures at the beginning of the relief merely stood in formation, but as Octavius walked, he saw them make contact with their opponents. Their opponents were humanoid, but he couldn't identify them even with the immense detail in the relief.

He slowed significantly as he marveled at the fantastical scene. He glanced from the right wall to the one on his left. Rather than a battle, the relief carved into the left wall was of a room. It seemed to be a library, or perhaps a study. There was an opened window, within which was carved a forested mountainside. Besides the window, there was a table with chairs and many shelves. On each shelf were what appeared to be thousands of books.

He continued slowly, analyzing each carving. He held his chem light up to the relief on the left. There were the carved knots on the spines of some of the books, leading him to believe that he was correct about it being a written language.

After a dozen feet, he came to what seemed to be the focal point of the reliefs. On the right, the massive armies clashed, spells passing over the heads of warriors as shields locked together. At the exact midpoint of the army, there was a rock spire. The spire stretched the height of the warriors five times over into the sky. On the spire, there was a single dwarf.

The dwarf appeared to be one of the mages, or at least was unarmed and unarmored. He appeared to be thin for a dwarf and had the shortest beard he had seen depicted on one of them. He held his hands spread above his head, and his mouth was wide open. Octavius wondered what he was meant to be doing. He looked in the area around the figure for any hint when he noticed that all of the warriors in the area closest to the figure were standing down. In fact, all along the frontlines, many warriors seemed not to be fighting but waiting.

Octavius wondered if the figure was some sort of mind mage. That was a worrying concept. He turned to inspect the left wall and got a much better look at the figure on the spire. On the left wall, the same thin and short bearded dwarf was sitting at a desk. He was hunched over something and writing delicately with a feather quill. Octavius tried to get a view of what the dwarf was writing but couldn’t make it out. It was as if the carvers had purposely avoided carving in the dwarf’s writing in any detail.

As he continued down what was looking less like a tunnel and more like a hallway, he thought about the carvings. The one on the left continued its panorama of the room, ending with a roaring fireplace. The relief on the right merely repeated the scene from before. There were thousands of figures marching in an orderly formation towards the frontlines, only these were the other group and not what he guessed were the dwarves.

Octavius was not a scholar of art but knew that if anyone put such effort into the carvings, the scenes they depicted were important. The thing that was in common between the two was the thin dwarf. Perhaps that dwarf was buried in a room in the hallway.

After the carvings ended, Octavius came to a stone door. The door was near identical to the one that stood at the entrance to the dungeon. When he pushed on the door, however, he didn’t get a new message. This door was thin, unlike the doors at the main entrance, and swung inward silently.

Octavius quickly dropped his rucksack and threw his chem light through the gap between the doors before slamming the left one all the way open and following it. As he entered the room, he scanned from left to right.

The walls were smooth, besides for the carvings of the knots. As his eyes reached the center of the room, he saw a standing statue of the thin dwarf from the hallway. The dwarf was carved to be eight feet tall and was dressed in a flowing robe. The dwarf held a book in his left hand, which was opened to somewhere in the middle. His right hand held a quill that he was holding against the open page. At the statue's feet was a plain rectangular coffin. This coffin’s only decoration was a silver metal inlay in the shape of knots that ran along each side. It was the second coffin he had found that was closed completely.

His eyes tracked to the right and saw an apparition. This apparition was taller than the others, as tall as the statue. It was entirely black, lacking any of the purples the others had. It stood in the back right corner of the room and held a single arm to shield its eyes, which it lowered as Octavius used identify on it.

Uncommon Antumbral Apparition (Lvl 22)

He was about to charge it when it thrust out a hand. Octavius brought up his Soulsilver dagger to block any approaching attack but was caught entirely unprepared for an impact on his back. It was hard, but not hard enough to do damage through his plate carrier. He stumbled forward and spun to his right, trying to avoid another attack from this new enemy.

As he spun, he saw what had hit him. It wasn’t another apparition, but a spike made of the same black gas as the apparition. It was five feet long and extended from the ground to reach a point just where it impacted his back. It must be some type of spell!

Octavius whirled to face the apparition and charged. It lifted both of its arms and seemed to shove the air in front of it. From the shadow cast by the coffin, a swirl of black gas erupted. It flew towards Octavius, taking the form of spikes.

Octavius noticed that the spikes were aimed in front of him, so he dug his heels in and stopped short. As soon as the spikes flew past him, he ran again. He jerked right and left. He noticed how the spikes of black mist had appeared from shadows both times and didn’t want to be stabbed from behind. He was proved correct a moment later when a spike shot from behind his leg, targeting his ankle. The spike had too little acceleration to both match his running speed and pierce the thick leather of his boot and thus did very little to hinder him.

In a moment, he had crossed half the distance to the apparition and stepped over the chem light. Now his shadow was in front of him, so when a group of spikes erupted from it, he jumped over them. He weaved between two more barrages before he reached his adversary.

He lashed out with his dagger, cutting into his abdomen. The apparition seemed to ignore the wound, as black mist covered it and repaired it over the next few seconds. The apparition swung one hand at him, and he moved to duck. Realizing he was too slow, he moved his left arm to intercept it.

The apparition’s arm made contact with Octavius’s own, and Octavius cursed loudly. He took a couple of steps back and shook out his arm. The apparition was stronger than him, even though it was specialized as a mage. Though, he was lucky it didn’t have the bone-crushing strength of the apparitions he had fought so far.

So began a delicate dance. Octavius would dart in and cut the apparition, then retreat and dodge the spikes that inevitably came in a counter-attack. For three minutes, he danced around the apparition before it began to slow down. The black mist that always healed its injuries also began to slow before stopping altogether. A minute later, he landed a solid blow, and the apparition seemed to freeze in place before exploding into a black cloud of mist.

You have killed Uncommon Antumbral Apparition (Lvl 22) and gained 4125 EXP (1/4)(22)(2)(3)(1.25)(100)

Octavius relaxed his stance and walked to his chem light. He scooped it from the ground and moved to do the same with his rucksack at the door. After he was situated, he walked over to the coffin. So far, every coffin he had found contained a Soulsilver weapon. On top of that, the only other coffin he had found that was sealed contained a weapon in perfect condition.

He didn’t like the idea of going out of his way to rob a grave, but if this grave held a weapon with greater reach, it could help him survive. If he even had a slightly longer knife, he could have ended the fight with the most recent apparition much sooner.

After some consideration, he pushed the lid of the coffin to the side, careful to keep it from tipping over the edge. He reached forward with his chem light and looked over the dwarf’s skeleton. Much like the first skeleton, this one had some scraps of cloth left on it, and its bones were a pure white color.

He looked at the center of the skeleton's chest, expecting to find a weapon. Instead, he found a book. The book had a cover made of Soulsilver and was carved with knots. Octavius’s eyes widened. He had yet to encounter a powerful mage, but if his interpretation of the reliefs carved into the hallway were correct, this was the remains of one. Maybe this was a spellbook or grimoire.

He reached delicately into the coffin and pulled the book from the skeleton’s milky white fingers. He sat down and laid the book in his lap. He couldn’t read the language with the knots, but spells could be written in easy to follow diagrams for all he knew. He couldn't let the chance go by, so he lifted his chem light with his left hand and opened the cover with his right.

His eyes widened. The book was filled with sheets of a paper-like material. The first page was aged, stained, and altogether unreadable. What surprised him was the inside cover. Carved onto the inside cover was a series of runes. He didn’t recognize a single rune, but somehow he could understand them.

“The Journal of Great Lord Harril Wyrdsmit of Dhuznod”

He quickly began to turn pages, careful to avoid damaging them. The vast majority of them were unreadable, but every few pages, he would discover a set of runes in good enough condition to understand. None of what he could understand meant anything to him, but he continued to look for something that did. He eventually flipped to the final page and sighed in disappointment. He could only find fragmented sentences, like “... on the last …” or “...Het came earlier to…”

He turned the last page, hoping that there was something meaningful carved into the Soulsilver of the back cover. It seemed that luck was with him because there was a long paragraph of runes inscribed there. As he read through it, his eyebrows rose.

“Let this be the final testament of I, Harril Wyrdsmit.

I am sick and dying. Even at level 94, old age comes for us all. I was given my choice of Soulsilver weaponry to carry with me. I decided on this journal. It has been with me for centuries. When I first apprenticed under the old peacemaker, the first runes of Truespeak that I ever wrote was in this journal. Throughout my long life, I have fought not with an axe nor with a spear, but with words. I have ended wars with this journal by my side.

The others say that a journal is no weapon, but I have commissioned Soulsilver covers anyway. I believe that Nuraic will find me worthy if I have my journal with me, and I will enter the great stone halls of Dimmaster like the other Lords and Great Lords before me.”

Octavius read and reread the passage. He found it very interesting. It revealed the level of this Harril Wyrdsmit and implied he lived hundreds of years. He wondered if that was a function of the dwarf’s level or if all dwarves lived that long.

He tried to puzzle together the life of the dwarf. The dwarf said he was apprenticed under someone called the old peacemaker and learned a written language called Truespeak. Octavius guessed that Truespeak was the language the runes that he could understand were written in. Maybe he was a translator. No, that wouldn’t make sense. If so, how would he get to such a high level? Perhaps an ambassador or Wiseman of some sort.

None of that mattered much, but he stored the knowledge away for later. Perhaps he could learn to write Truespeak at one point, but that wasn’t his priority at the moment. He stood and gently placed the book back into the hands of the skeleton. He pushed the lid of the coffin closed and stood back. Just because he took weapons from the graves of the fallen to help himself to survive, didn't mean he would steal a delicate book that he'd already read for nothing more than idle curiosity.

After a moment, he moved to the edge of the room and walked its perimeter. He failed to find any hidden doors or other interesting things, so he left the room. He walked back the way he came until he came to the four-way intersection again. He turned and took the hallway of the right side this time. He had thought about it during the walk back and decided that he would go through both sides before continuing down the middle hallway.

Much like the left hallway, the right hallway also smoothed out and became more symmetrical. When he got to the point where the carvings of knots on the walls split, he knew what to expect. Just like before, a relief was carved into each wall. This time, both walls contain images of battle.

On the right, there were two massive armies carved into the background. The armies met in a wide-open field. Where they met was chaos. Massive balls of fire were carved to be flying in the air from both sides. The detail was so great that Octavius could make out individual arrows above the field of battle.

In the foreground, there was a group of two dozen mounted warriors. These warriors rode some sort of ram, with thick hair and curled horns. Each of the warriors wore a full set of plate armor that covered everything except their braided beards. They each held a spear in one hand and a shield in the other as they charged the flank of the army that was carved to be further away.

Octavius once again took his time to examine the reliefs. Now that he knew that they showed what he believed to be important scenes of the life of the dwarf buried at the end of the hallway, any insight he gained could be important.

The left wall also depicted the clashing of two armies. The difference was that in this relief, the dwarves were all on foot. They wore thick plate mail, and each held a massive round shield and long spear. They were arranged in a close approximation of a Macedonian phalanx as they faced the far end of the hallway. Halfway down the relief, the dwarvish phalanx planted their spears in the ground and knelt instead of assuming a normal standing formation.

Octavius looked farther down the relief and saw why. The dwarves were meeting a charge of cavalry. The opposing force rode the rams similar to the other drawing. More dwarves rode those rams, with spears lowered to strike at the dwarvish phalanx. He looked closer and saw that in the middle of the phalanx, one dwarf was not shown to wear a helmet. This dwarf was in the front rank, kneeling like those beside him. He looked muscular, and even with his face in profile, Octavius could see the determination in his eyes. After all, Octavius had felt that determination himself before.

He turned back to the right wall and saw that the dwarvish calvary was in a wedge formation. At the point of the wedge formation, the same helmetless dwarf rode. In this relief, Octavius could see his spear appearing to crackle with lightning as he charged the enemy. This enemy appeared not to be other dwarves, but perhaps goblins of some sort. The enemy was disorganized and poorly equipped but seemed to outnumber the dwarvish army by a great deal.

After the reliefs ended, Octavius came to another door. This time he had to think about his course of action. If it was one of the penumbral apparitions, it was much stronger than him but had little survivability. In that case, his best chance would be to throw his chem light into the room and use the time it was stunned to kill it. On the other hand, if it was another antumbral apparition, throwing the chem light would cause his shadow to be cast behind him. That could result in a fatal spike through the back.

After some thought, he decided to tie the chem light to the back of his belt. He figured that if it was a penumbral, the light it gave off would still stun it slightly. He once again dropped his rucksack to the ground and readied his knife. He checked his health, mana, and stamina to be sure that he was ready. None of the three were full, but they were all close enough.

This time, he pushed the door slightly to be sure it was unlocked before backing up for a running start. He ran shoulder first into the left door, slamming it open. With the chem light behind him, the room was much darker, but he still searched it for the blackness that would signify the presence of an apparition.

He saw it barely a dozen feet away and willed his legs to carry him faster.

Uncommon Antumbral Apparition (Lvl 20)

It was able to lift a lanky arm, and a massive spike of black mist erupted from the ground in front of him. He sidestepped it smoothly and closed on the humanoid mass of black fog. He struck out with his dagger, putting his momentum behind it, and watched it carve deeply into the apparition's torso.

It stumbled back from the blow, but Octavius was forced to relinquish his advantage to avoid the two massive spikes hurtling towards him from the far wall. It seemed that while the other apparition used smaller spikes, this creature preferred spikes that were a half foot or so in diameter.

He saw how the black mist was still working on repairing the damage his initial attack had done to the apparition and moved to press the attack. He avoided two more barrages of spikes before reaching the apparition.

It swung out its right arm to hit him, and he swung his dagger to intercept it. With the combined force of his swing and the apparition’s own, his dagger dug deeply into its forearm, nearly severing it. He pushed his weight through his right arm and felt it go through. The room was suddenly filled with a deafening wail. It felt like the screams of thousands echoing off the walls.

Octavius instantly dropped his dagger and fell to his knees, his hands clamped over his ears. Its terrible wail continued for a dozen seconds before cutting off abruptly. Octavius removed his hands from his ears and saw they were covered in blood. He blinked and shook his head slightly, still disoriented.

He looked up and saw the apparition was leaning against the wall, cradling its arm close to its chest. Octavius then looked at the dagger in front of him. He slowly lifted it and stood unsteadily, ears still ringing. Instead of repairing its severed arm, the black mist seemed to leak out of its stump.

When Octavius rose, the apparition looked up and reached out with its good arm. A spike grew from the ground in front of him, but it seemed to move significantly slower than before. Octavius stepped around it and charged the apparition slowly, trying to keep his balance. More spikes attacked him, but they were slow enough that he could avoid them even with his impaired balance.

When he reached the apparition, he threw himself at it; his dagger held out in front of him. His weight carried the dagger deep into the form of the apparition. The apparition swung at him with its good arm, but it was weak and slow. Octavius grunted from the strike but didn’t move. Instead, he angled the blade downwards and pressed with his body weight. The dagger cut a deep gash down for a foot before the apparition froze, its good arm a foot from Octavius’s head. It seemed to fade for a moment before exploding into the now-familiar cloud of black mist.

You have killed Uncommon Antumbral Apparition (Lvl 20) and gained 3750 EXP (1/4)(20)(2)(3)(1.25)(100)

Octavius panted and looked at his current condition on his status page.

Name

Octavius J. Asher

Race

Human (F)

Level

9 - 27873/40000

Class

None

Titles

Forerunner

Health

397/500

Stamina

513/600

Mana

276/300

Strength

35

Dexterity

37

Agility

33

Constitution

30

Vitality

25

Perception

21

Intelligence

15

Wisdom

19

Will

31

Free Points

0

Status Effects

Deafened - Your hearing is greatly damaged. Your sense of balance is impaired. This effect will stop when the user returns to full health.

Skills

Identify (Lvl 11) - Discover information about a being or object. The amount of information is dependent on skill level and the object the skill is used on.

Speech (MAX) - You can speak all common humanoid languages.

He was relieved that his deafened effect would end when he returned to full health. He was worried that he might have to use his last health potion to restore his hearing.

He fetched his rucksack from behind the door and withdrew the chem light from behind his back. He finally inspected the room. There was a statue of the helmetless dwarf standing above the coffin. The statue wore a full set of plate armor and had a shield on its left arm. In its right arm was a massive stone spear that was pointing to the ceiling.

Octavius was getting excited. If this dwarvish warrior was buried with a Soulsilver spear, even if the shaft had long ago turned to dust, he could take the spearhead. He walked over to the coffin to find it slightly ajar. Inside he found something that surpassed his greatest hopes.

Damaged Soulsilver Spear (Uncommon) - A spear of Soulsilver. It was once an expertly crafted weapon that a true master of the spear would be pleased to bring with him to the afterlife but has been greatly damaged by the sands of time. It can be infused with the mana of the wielder, making it one of the only known physical weapons that can harm beings of pure mana. Cost (10 mana/minute)

The spear was made entirely from Soulsilver. He reached into the coffin and reverently pulled it out. He could make out where the complex carvings once adorned the spear shaft but were mostly worn away. The spear blade was still sharp but didn’t have the razor sharpness of his Soulsilver dagger.

He gently placed the spear on the floor before moving to open his rucksack. Removing the spearhead from the start of the dungeon, his eyes flicked from it to the open coffin and back again. Carefully, he placed the spearhead onto the chest of the skeleton inside; it felt right for him to do so. When he had removed his hands, closed the coffin to let the occupant rest in peace. He muttered a quick thanks to the dwarvish spearman for quite possibly saving his life before the lid slid home.

He looked around and frowned slightly. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he ate his lunch, but he was getting hungry again. He decided to spend the night in the room and closed the stone doors. He placed the chem light on the floor just past the entrance and sat against one wall. He prepared his second to last MRE and wolfed it down before taking up the spear and standing.

He took a fighting stance in the middle of the room and swung the spear in a short arc. It was much lighter than he’d expect from a spear made entirely of metal but heavier than one made with a wooden shaft. He began some basic movements to familiarize himself with the weapon. After a half-hour, he was able to twirl the spear in complex katas, the spear becoming an extension of his body.

He smiled before walking over to the wall. He placed his rucksack on the ground and laid back, resting his head on it. He made sure the spear was on the ground a foot away from him before patting a cylindrical object on his belt. He knew that the chem light will have died out by the time he awoke, so he would have to navigate with his flashlight. He had wanted to avoid using it because he didn’t have any spare batteries. It was rather powerful but would only last 8-12 hours, and he didn’t want to waste any charge on it.

After double-checking to be sure of its position on his belt, he closed his eyes and fell asleep to the diminishing sound of ringing in his ears.