Tabula Rasa: Adventures In A New World

An almost impenetrable fog surrounds the Drakling and her Elf, so thick that they can barely see each other despite being less than an arms reach apart.

The quartz crystal that Krvavy is using as a headlamp hardly even glows, doing the absolute bare minimum to illuminate the all-consuming darkness around them. And the same can be said for the one dangling over Beryl’s armoured chest. But, despite how it may seem, neither crystal is close to running out of power. They were simply dimmed down, as otherwise this frustratingly thick fog would refract all of that light back, making it impossible to see a thing.

“Gnhh...” Krvavy grimaces as a layer of relatively stiff and sticky resin squishes uncomfortably beneath her bare feet. It is in times like these that she resents her more digitigrade, inhuman form. If she had boots, then stepping into this gooey stuff wouldn’t be nearly as unpleasant...

These patches of goo started to appear on the tenth floor down. At first they were quite sparse, pooling only where the ground was most cracked and damaged by the passage of time. But they’ve only become more common since then, connected by a thin sinuous web across the eleventh and becoming a near-complete carpet by the twelfth. And now, on the stairs descending down even further, there is no choice but to step in that squelching sludge. It is starting to cover even the walls.

At least it seems harmless... Or inert, if that is the right word...

Krvavy can’t help but be concerned by its presence. By the thought that it might rise up and attack whatever is unfortunate enough to step on it. Like those slimes that are too weak to be anything but a puddle. But that simply hasn’t been the case. At least not yet. And neither do the slimes that ooze their way across this semi-stiff stuff appear to absorb any of it. This gooey resin doesn’t really seem to do anything.

Which also worries Krvavy. It can’t just be a disgustingly sticky carpet. There has to be more to it...

“Ach,” Beryl scowls and scrunches her nose in the very same moment that a notification presses into the Drakling’s perception. “It’s gettin’ worse, my dearest love...”

You have been inflicted with Mana Saturation. You now regenerate an additional 25 Mana per minute, but your Stamina Regeneration has been decreased by 85%.

“Yeah, I can see...” The Drakling slowly inhales, only to immediately regret having done so as she sucks in a large lungful of the thick and musty air. “Such an annoying effect... Can’t it at least give more mana than that?” She grumbles and frowns, dismissing the pop-up. A mere twenty-five mana per minute doesn’t really seem all that good when it comes with an increased chance of getting so exhausted you just lay down and die...

“Most o’ the mana is lingerin’ in the air around us.” The Wood Elf plainly points out, following Krvavy down the uncomfortably squishy stairs. “Ya could always try absorbin’ some o’ it yerself, if ya’d like. Shouldn’t require much more focus than drainin’ our quartz batteries.”

“I’ll... keep that in mind.” Krvavy reluctantly replies. If the flavour of this stagnant mana is anything like the smell that is currently filling the foggy air, then she’d rather not pollute herself with it...

“Be careful not ta let yer Mana increase above its total amount.” Beryl cautions, her bare fingertips idly touching the black scales that line her Draconic lover’s meaty tail. “Tha’ normally wouldn’t be possible, but wit’ this effect... It is better safe than sorry. Bein’ filled wit’ so much mana wouldn’t be a particularly pleasant experience.” She does not elaborate.

“I really don’t need to worry about that.” Krvavy idly replies, glancing down into the darkness ahead. These stairs feel longer than all the other sets they’ve climbed today... But that could just be her imagination.... Or the sticky ground slowing her down. “It’ll take an entire minute for this effect to give me enough mana to cast either of my breath spells for a single second. So unless I completely stop casting spells...”

“Yer magic isn’t the most sustainable, is it?”

“Transmute Blood more than makes up for that. Especially since I can use it on my own blood if I need to.”

“Tsk.” Beryl simply clicks her tongue at that.

Silence hangs in the stuffy and stagnant air, disturbed only by the increasingly moist sounds of the gooey ground squelching beneath their feet.

The touchy tomboy pulls her hand away from Krvavy’s tail. The freshly grown arrows sitting in her quiver quietly click together as she idly takes inventory of how many are there. “Think we’re close ta the bottom...?”

“I hope so.” The barbarian sighs back, shuddering slightly as the sticky resin squishes around her clawed toes and weakly clings to her scales. “We’re already going to get home pretty late as is...”

They descend a couple more steps before the Wood Elf speaks again. “Do ya want ta look the whole floor over, or...?”

“I’m good with just peeking through the door, to be honest. Maybe try looking down into the pit, not that we’ll be able to see much with all this fog...” Krvavy shakes her head and shrugs. “This whole trip has been rather boring. A lot of walking through pretty much the same place again and again, and again and again and again. We really need to figure out some way to lure in the slimes so that we can just hang around at the top and kill them as they come to us...”

“Aye,” Beryl easily agrees with that. “Fightin’ slimes is never the most excitin’. Rather repetitive, really. And this ruin is much the same. We ‘aven’t even found any ancient relics, which is ‘alf the fun o’ delvin’ inta these kinds o’ places.”

The barbarian briefly glances back over her shoulder, a weak smile playing at her pale lips. “There were those rusted swords up near the top. The ones we found when we first came in here.”

“Tha’ ‘ardly counts. Tha’ ruin was basically an entirely separate one tha’ just ‘appened ta be on top o’ this one. And it wasn’t as old as all o’ this either.” The tomboyish Wood Elf replies, before suddenly clicking her tongue in annoyance. “Tsk! Just ‘ow long are these stairs!? We’ve already gone down thrice as many steps than on the others!”

So Krvavy wasn’t just imagining things...

Before the Drakling can respond to her Elf, the light from her headlamp just barely reveals the bottom of the stairwell.

“Finally...!” The Elf quite sharply sighs, sounding rather satisfied.

The fog down here is incredibly thick. Almost solid, like fluffy wool. And it smells rather... rank. It really isn’t pleasant to breathe in...

True to her words, Krvavy peeks her head through the doorway. But she sees absolutely nothing beyond the impenetrable fog.

“My dearest love, please step aside.” A soft wooden click barely makes its way through the stuffy air as Beryl nocks a crude arrow onto her bow.

Krvavy smiles faintly as she does as her sweet berry asked, ready to make her headlamp brighter as she looks expectantly out into the darkness.

Twwng...!

A cyclone is abruptly loosed into the thick air, those swirling winds cutting a wide path through that musty miasma. The impenetrable fog is blown back with violent force, revealing what has long lain hidden down here, deep below the surface.

Jagged silhouettes loom into view, huge and imposing. A pair flank the stairwell, emerging from within the nearest cells and reaching towards the center of this panopticon, rusted bars bent outward around those overgrown crystals. A concerning sight, but not a new one. A few of the cells on the floor above were like that as well.

But what were not present on that previous floor are the crystalline shards that have risen from the solid stone ground. Some are tall and thin like twisting spires, others are shorter and stumpier and more akin to messy piles of blocks and blades. Yet they all have one thing in common. The area around them is bare and uneven. The thick layer of sticky resin has given those crystals a wide berth.

Those details, as odd as they may be, hardly linger in Krvavy’s mind. She is far more focused on something else. Her eyes watch that wind-wrapped arrow as the split second stretches on and on, more of the fog being forced away, more of the sludgy ground being revealed, and more of the jagged quartz clusters coming into view. But... the edge of the pit isn’t where she expected it to be. Further and further she looks, until...

The sound of a crude wooden arrow plinking against solid rock rings through the clear air.

Beryl’s summoned winds cease in that instant, letting the curtain of oppressive fog come crashing back down.

“How lucky...!” The barbarian mutters out, letting some excitement into her voice as she steps through the doorway.

“Aye, luck.” The Wood Elf’s sigh almost sounds sarcastic as she frowns into the returning fog.

“We’ve finally reached the bottom, but you don’t sound particularly happy about that.” Krvavy raises an eyebrow as she glances at the tanned tomboy beside her.

“My dearest love, this is the thirteenth floor.” Beryl plainly states, letting a few seconds pass on by before she elaborates. “A place like this wouldn’t be built carelessly, so tha’ must be intentional. Which isn’t a good sign.”

“Are you just being superstitious, or...?”

“Ah’m bein’ cautious, my dearest love.” Beryl curtly replies, bristling just a bit. “Numbers ‘ave power, so ta speak. Ah do not trust tha’ this ‘orrid ruin ‘avin’ thirteen floors is mere coincidence. The amount o’ ambient mana lingerin’ around doesn’t ‘elp ta dispel my suspicions. A lot o’ power once flowed through this place, my dearest love.”

“An–?”

The Drakling’s words are drowned by as an almost deafening rumble, accompanied by what sounds like a thousand windows being smashed and shattered into sand. Each painful crack sees faint lights appear through the fog, glowingly dimly in an assortment of pastel colours.

Beryl covers her long and point ears as the echoes of a river, of rushing water and swirling eddies, only adds to the surrounding cacophony.

The ground shakes and shudders as if some great beast lay beneath the stone, waking from its ancient slumber. Bits of dust and the smallest of pebbles fall down from the ceiling above.

Without any warning... the discordant noise suddenly stops. Complete and utter silence fills the still foggy air.

The ever-present sounds of squishing and squelching slimes is no longer there.

Beryl hesitantly lowers her hands. “Ah thi...” Her whispered word trails off as a soft buzzing begins to emanate from deep within the fog.

It starts off sounding almost like a swarm of insects, with chitinous limbs rubbing together and tiny wings flapping in the air. But it quickly shifts into something more... electronic. A chill runs down Krvavy’s spine as she is reminded of cheap office lights humming away with their incessant droning. The dull thrumming hum of monotonous dread.

A couple seconds pass by and the buzzing grows noticeably louder. Sharp ticks and mechanical clicks join the droning chorus, cutting through the static.

“We...! Should leave...!” Beryl chokes out those words, struggling to speak over that discordant dissonance while still trying to remain relatively quiet, not wanting to draw the ire of whatever has caused this chaotic cacophony.

Krvavy fully agrees with that, as whatever is happening right now does not sound good. It is setting her nerves, her instincts, on edge. But as much as she wants to turn and flee, she simply can’t. Her body feels... tense and stiff. She is finding it hard to even breathe, let alone move her limbs. Fear fills her heart as she painstakingly turns her head just enough to see Beryl from the corner of her eyes.

The Wood Elf appears to be similarly frozen.

The Drakling’s muscles burn as she rebels against this odd paralysis, her limbs tingling as if they had all fallen asleep. The fact that a notification detailing whatever this status effect is hasn’t yet popped up worries her beyond measure, adding to the claustrophobic terror clawing through her mind.

Krvavy’s foot slides back along the sticky resin covering the floor. Her eyes turn down as she realizes that the goo is... quivering. Is it...? No. This slime stuff isn’t what’s causing the noise. The sound is coming from ahead and above, not below. But wha–?

-2.86 Health

A sharp spike of pain shoots through her head as the droning din digs into her ears.

-3.15 Health

If this sound is hurting her, actually causing damage, then...!

Her eyes dart back to Beryl.

-2.98 Health

The Elf is grimacing in pain, but seems to be a bit better off than Krvavy is. Vines have crawled up the sides of Beryl’s neck, completely covering up her pointed ears with thick chunks of wood and sprouted leaves.

-2.31 Health

Krvavy painstakingly bends her arm, holding her Soulbound Weapon out in front of the Elf. Its haft presses against that tanned tomboy’s wooden armour. The barbarian slowly stumbles back a step, dragging Beryl along with her.

-2.57 Health

A weak rumbling shakes the ground, stopping as a loud clunk rings through the foggy air.

Krvavy is suddenly freed from her paralysis as the clicking ceases along with the pain, leaving just a faint buzz echoing through her mind. Her body flies backwards as her limbs and muscles finally obey her orders. Her back slams into something solid.

-1.23 Health

“My dearest love!”

The Drakling hardly registers her Elf’s concern, completely ignoring how Beryl’s nimble fingers touch the thin trails of blood trickling from her ears. Krvavy’s attention is entirely focused on the doorway behind her, the one that they just passed through a few moments ago. It is blocked off by rusted metal bars that have dropped from above, piercing through the sticky goo and anchoring deep in the ground.

They are trapped down here.

That is the first thought that enters Krvavy’s mind, though it is quickly discarded. Those bars are incredibly rusted. Not quite as much as some of the cells, but they still look to be more rust than metal. They should be rather easy to break. Even if they are worryingly thick. She just needs to use a bit of strength and –

An intense gust of stagnant wind suddenly blows past the barbarian, causing her crimson hair to flutter into her face. Immediately, her attention snaps over to her Elf... only to see Beryl looking equally confused.

Krvavy’s heart stills. Slowly, her gaze turns back towards the center of this buried ruin. Towards the source of that strong breeze

Dozens upon dozens of giant crystal clusters dot the ground, each one pulsing with a power that sees their pastel light grow ever brighter. The unnatural wind picks up as those jagged chunks of quartz rattle and shake. Bubbles of clear air form where the glowing light is brightest, though a misty haze still lingers at the darker edges.

In just a matter of moments, the previously impenetrable fog has been cleared up well enough to quite easily see across the entire floor of this ancient ruin. That doesn’t mean that the dense miasma is completely gone though. It has simply been pushed upwards, forming a cloud-like layer that completely obscures the ceiling above. Faintly twinkling lights can be seen through that haze. Though not near the tower piercing through that false sky. A ring of utter black hangs near to that column of stone.

Nearly all of the cells that surround this mostly empty expanse are filled beyond the brim with crystalline growths. But a few stand empty. Though perhaps not for the best of reasons. The walls in and around those bare cages are marred with large cracks and worryingly wide crevices, each one coated with gooey sludge that descends deeper into the darkness beyond.

“It seems ta ‘ave calmed a bit...” Beryl quietly comments, cautiously looking at those faintly humming crystals. The wind has faded into nothing more than a gentle draft that hardly sees her short bark-brown hair move about. “But still, we should lea–”

Krrrrrkrkkrr...!

A loud crash drowns out all other sounds as part of the central tower violently bursts open, sending stone shards and glittering chunks of quartz careening through the air. Some of that debris slams into the nearest crystal growths, breaking off pieces that continue to shine even after being scattered across the sludge covered ground.

The quickly fading cloud of dust hardly has time to settle before a figure lurches through it and into sight.

“What...?” Krvavy can’t help but voice her baffled surprise.

A huge humanoid shape heaves its weight over some rubble. It looks to be... not quite twice the Drakling’s height, but fairly close to that. And far, far wider. It is uneven and misshapen. Its legs are not the same length... or width... and neither are its arms. This thing looks almost like something that a child would make out of dry and crumbling clay, a misunderstood or unskilled attempt at what a person should be. Except, of course, it isn’t made out anything so weak as that.

Jagged crystals cover the entire form of that misshapen figure, crackling uncomfortably with each jerky movement it makes.

Krvavy quickly uses Inspect on the odd... golem...? Only to wince as that simply sends a sharp jolt of pain through her brain. An absolutely useless notification pops up in front of her eyes, the text that should be on it instead replaced by a jumbled mess of question marks and seemingly random symbols that hurt to even look at. It is quickly dismissed.

That, and this things rather dramatic entrance, should be quite concerning. But... This golem is moving as if it doesn’t know how to walk, like a toddler yet to take their first step. It is moving as if it is gravely wounded and seriously injured, stumbling like a man with a knife in his gut and whose blood is pooling on the ground beneath his feet. This thing is... It is almost pitiable.

“My dearest love, are ya good ta fight? Tha’ terrible noise didn’t ‘urt ya too bad, did it?” Beryl frets and fusses over her Draconic lover, using a small clump of moss to clean the blood from Krvavy’s slightly pointed ears as the vines that blocked up her own far longer pair retract and retreat away.

“Yeah, I’m fine...” The Drakling grumbles, rolling her shoulders. She still feels a bit stiff, and there is an annoying echo ringing through her head, but she doesn’t seem to have any permanent damage. Or at least nothing severe enough to warrant a pop-up.

“Good, ‘cause we should probably kill tha’.” The Wood Elf scowls as she glances towards the stumbling crystalline golem. “Don’t want it ta try followin’ us ‘ome. Assuming it’d even let us leave...”

Krvavy simply nods her head and steps towards this odd foe. She didn’t expect to fight anything other than some slimes today. This... will be a nice change of pace. And perhaps this could be a good opportunity to test out that new Fire Magic spell that she has...

The Drakling’s grip tighten around her Soulbound Weapon as warmth begins to pulse within her core. That heat grows more and more intense as it rushes through her channels, through her arms and through her hands. Through the extension of her soul that she is wielding.

Crimson flames burst from between her fingers, swiftly spreading along the wooden haft of her axe, reaching the metal cap at one end and the three heads at the other.

Imbued Inferno: Fire magic flares up from a chosen weapon, covering it with raging flames. Costs up to 100 Mana to activate and drains 33.33% of initial cost per minute to maintain. Associated attributes = Charisma & Might.

This spell isn’t the most expensive one that Krvavy has, but it isn’t cheap either. How fortunate that its cost is mostly offset by the Mana Saturation status effect that she is still suffering from.

The misshapen golem raises a lumpy and jagged arm, almost pointing at both Beryl and barbarian with it’s claw-like hand.

The sound of static and synthesized ticking bursts through the air, assaulting Krvavy’s mind with overlapping and incomprehensible gibberish.

-2.64 Health

Beryl’s hand grabs onto Krvavy’s shoulder.

The thin vines twirled around the Drakling’s horns, holding her crude headlamp in place, suddenly begin to spread down towards her ears. It takes only a moment for firm moss padding to sprout along those growths, quickly getting compressed by thicker plates of wood which soon secure themselves in place, silencing all but the beating of her own heart.

The Elf lets go of her Draconic lover.

That discordant static still finds its way into Krvavy’s head, and her ears are still filled with a faint ringing sound, but its horrid ticking clicks are muffled enough that they are hardly even audible.

A pleasant and invigorating feeling washes over the barbarian right as she lunges forwards. The stiffness in her body is washed away by what feels like the warm caress of the sun peeking through a rustling canopy.

You have been inflicted with the Forest’s Curse. Deemed to belong, nature strengthens your being.

A faint smile enters Krvavy’s face as Beryl’s magic fills her with energy.

The golem lurches to the side and stumbles towards the quickly approaching barbarian. Its disproportionately chunky right arm flicks up with concerning speed, catching Krvavy’s axe between its crystal claws.

14.82 Damage dealt to [Crystalline Golem]

Flame-coated metal crashes into dull glowing quartz, getting deflected towards the center of that clawed limb where it digs deep into crystal flesh.

278.31 Damage dealt to [Crystalline Golem]

244.75 Damage dealt to [Crystalline Golem]

The golem’s thick and jagged arm tears open as Krvavy’s Soulbound weapon is forced down towards its elbow. A deep crack spreads across that crystal limb, reaching all the way up to its crudely shaped shoulder.

Its other arm suddenly jerks forwards, shaking violently as a club-like fist flies towards the Drakling.

-45.38 Health

Krvavy throws herself backwards and to the side, tearing her axe out of her foes jagged wound. But she isn’t quite fast enough to avoid the golem’s clumsy yet terrifyingly fast punch, getting clipped on her right bicep.

Faint cracking and shattering noises can just barely be heard through Krvavy’s wooden earmuffs as the golem’s right arm completely splits in two.

Crystals rain down to the ground as its newly separated arms tremble and shake. Both parts of its former claw twist in their newfound freedom, angling their jagged knife-like tips towards the Drakling.

A frown fills Krvavy’s face as she takes that brief moment of respite to spend forty points of mana. Something that she honestly should have done before rushing in to fight... An odd yet increasingly familiar tingling numbness spreads across her body as Oakflesh is activated, fortifying her skin and scales with a bark-like mirage.

The golem abruptly hurls itself towards the barbarian, stumbling on its uneven legs as its two clawed limbs strike out towards her.

139.07 Damage dealt to [Crystalline Golem]

Bloody sparks go flying through the air along with crystalline shards as Krvavy’s axe, wreathed in crimson flames, batters the upper limb aside. With as much force as she can muster, the Drakling reverses the momentum of her weapon and slams its hammerhead into the thicker of the golems clawed arms.

381.34 Damage dealt to [Crystalline Golem]

That limb shatters completely, everything past its elbow breaking off and clattering to the ground.

The thing seems to scream into Krvavy’s mind with a voice similar to office machinery. But she can’t even begin to understand its crazed clicking, its wild whirring, its berserk buzzing, or its tizzied ticking. If there is even anything to understand about all of that.

A wind-wrapped arrow flies past Krvavy’s head and crashes into the golem’s clubbed arm, doing little more than deflecting its strike just enough for the Drakling to dodge.

The vaguely half-dome shape that might be the golem’s head begins to frantically spin, rapidly rotating around and around and around. Its crystalline body suddenly lurches to the side and jerkily punches its clubbed arm past Krvavy, letting that crude crystal fist disconnect as it is launched towards the Wood Elf.

Rage burns through the barbarian’s mind as she slams her hammer towards the golem. She can see, out of the corner of her eye, that Beryl has easily dodged the attack. But that does little to calm her anger. Firm earthen magic wells up within her flaming Soulbound Weapon, ready to unleash a Seismic Stomp through her strike.

2,834.21 Damage dealt to [Crystalline Golem]

Jagged shards spray out from the other side of the golem, scattering across the expansive floor like horizontal hail. Large chunks of the golem break off and fall to the floor as it stumbles back. Its broken arm bends inwards and tries to touch the crater that has replaced most of its torso.

Its limbs crack as its joints reverse, turning its front into its back. The golem throws itself at the nearest quartz growth.

Krvavy lunges after the broken thing, swinging her hammer down towards it with murderous intent.

-154.90 Health

A wave of pastel light blasts the barbarian back, preventing her followup attack.

-4.11 Health

-3.24 Health

The constant droning din briefly grow loud enough to send sharp jolts of pain through the Drakling’s head, overpowering her moss and wood earmuffs. An involuntary shudder rolls through her body as her muscles grow tense and stiff.

The golem seizes and quakes as waves of light burst from its craggy and uneven form, though luckily whatever magic is in those bursts dissipates after travelling just a short distance. Each colourful blast pushes away more and more of the slimy resin that covers the ground, causing that sticky goo to melt away into nothingness. A twiggy arrow is disintegrated before it can even plink against the crystalline figure.

Jagged growths burst from the golem’s cratered torso, filling that hole with chunks of pinkish quartz. Slightly purple shards extend from that repaired mass, forming an exaggerated spine. Waves of pastel light continue to fizzle and flash from its repairing form.

Wordless noise assails Krvavy’s mind, growing increasingly annoying as it starts to actually give her a headache. One separate from all of the painful noises.

Cracks appear on the ground around the golem, the ancient stone growing uneven as if lifted by something below.

The misshapen golem suddenly halts all movement. Even the waves of magic emanating from its irregular form cease. For just the briefest moment, a calm hangs in the fogless air.

Krvavy raises her flame-coated Soulbound Weapon and readies a strike, but she isn’t quite quick enough to take advantage of this crystalline figure’s apparent vulnerability. Not with her muscles still feeling a little stiff.

The rocky ground erupts without warning as the golem abruptly spins around, tearing what is left of the quartz growth from the floor, swinging it towards the barbarian like an oversized hammer.

-241.59 Health

-89.02 Health

Hard stone and jagged crystal slams into Krvavy’s side, her right arm taking most of the blow. She is nearly sent flying from the force, losing her footing as she tumbles and skids across the sticky ground. The gooey resin ever so slightly dampens her fall, though it leaves her feeling more than a little disgusted. That gunk clings to her skin and scales, to her hair and her loincloth.

A mechanical roar echoes through Krvavy’s mind as she scrambles back onto her feet, pushing away the burning pain that accompanies each movement she makes. Her arm throbs, the strained muscles within stiff and the bones left stinging.

The bulky golem lurches and stumbles as it walks on stubby legs, almost as if it were incredibly drunk. But not once does it look as if it is truly going to topple over.

Silence sears the barbarian’s brain, leaving the impression of clicks and ticks.

Her emerald eyes swiftly take in the sight of her altered foe.

This vaguely humanoid golem is even more disproportionate now. Its torso is far too chunky, with protrusions poking out all over. Its right arm is far too thick, with a massive rock and quartz hammer for a hand. Its lower left arm has been mostly regrown, with a wide and uneven drill whirring wildly in place of the clawed blade that was previously there. The upper of its left arms, still tipped with a jagged sword of a claw, now has two additional joints and appears to connect above the shoulder, closer to where the neck should be.

An array of faint pastel lights emanate from the crystalline golem as the thing shambles towards Krvavy. It towers over the Drakling, now nearly thrice her height as it stands on sturdier legs.

The invigorating feeling suffused throughout the barbarian’s body grows stronger, pushing back the exhaustion brought on by that droning noise. Krvavy isn’t quite sure what her Wood Elf’s magic is doing, what sort of buffs it has given her, but she definitely feels more... energetic.

Stone cracks and the ground shudders as that misshapen golem launches itself at Krvavy.