Tabula Rasa: Adventures In A New World

Darkness surrounds the Drakling. Cold and empty. An oppressive silence accompanies that utter black, interrupted only by the weak beat of her heart and the faint but incessant sounds that still ring through her ears.

The faintest hint of light graces Krvavy’s half-lidded eyes as a few small pieces of nature drop down from above, the leafy cocoon that is so thoroughly surrounding her slowly stretching and expanding outwards. Those tiny twigs, little leaves, and meager clumps of moss can barely be felt as they bounce off her skin and scales.

The padded chunks of wood that have served well as Krvavy’s improvised earmuffs retract... just in time for Beryl’s fist to thump against her chest.

“Ya reckless idiot!” The Wood Elf’s worried and incredibly concerned hiss echoes through the barbarian’s foggy brain. “Ach!” Pure panic fills that wordless noise. “Don’t ya dare close yer eyes on me!”

“Hnh!” Krvavy winces as her pallid cheek is lightly slapped, again and again. That discomfort may pale in companion to the pain filling her entire being, but it is still sharp enough to be unpleasant.

“And close yer wounds already!”

An odd pressure lingers around Krvavy’s muscled midsection. With a quiet groan and hardly a thought, she pushes herself upright and tries to see what could be causing that strange feeling.

Only to be swiftly pushed back into the ground by a hand firmly pressed against her collarbone.

“My dearest love!” The worry and fear in that tanned tomboy’s voice pierces through the haze of Krvavy’s mind, snapping her from this daze and drawing her back to reality. She... is still alive. But that will change if she just lies here doing nothing.

With an exhausted – and rather pained – sigh, Krvavy tries casting Knit Flesh. But nothing happens. Her eyebrows furrow as she gives it another go. The empty throbbing deep within her core helps her realize just why it didn’t work the first time. She is completely out of mana.

The Drakling groans as her fingers touch at the empty spot on her hip. She doesn’t have any more quartz batteries to draw mana from... Ignoring the increasingly worried Elf shaking her shoulders, Krvavy tiredly uses Transmute Blood in an attempt to gain the energy that she needs. But that just leaves her feeling even more lightheaded.

And so, with a reluctant grimace, Krvavy turns her focus to the mana that is saturating the ancient air all around her. A nauseating feeling fills her very being as she begins to pull that stagnant power into herself, with just a degree of difficulty. Her stomach roils and turns, threatening to empty itself in the same way it would were she to swallow down a rather rank piece of meat. But this is refilling her mana... So Krvavy pushes through those sickening sensations as best she can.

+87.5 Health

Pain shoots through the barbarian’s body as the flesh of her midsection begins to writhe unnaturally, entrails that were threatening to spill free retreating back to where they belong as tendrils of blood and muscle reach across the large gash left in their place. Fresh skin spreads across that patch of raw flesh, fully closing the wound.

“Ya’re not bleedin’ from anywhere else, are ya?!” Beryl worriedly asks, poking and prodding all over the Drakling. It takes her a while before she is satisfied that Krvavy isn’t about to immediately die. But that is when she starts to truly fuss.

“I’m not dead...!” Krvavy weakly groans, trying and failing to push that touchy tomboy’s hands off of her.

“Ya might as well be!” Beryl hisses back, using a clump of soft moss to scrub away some dried blood that Krvavy’s magic couldn’t quite absorb. Which includes the slightly frosty lines trailing down from the Drakling’s eyes and nostrils. Much to Krvavy’s annoyance.

“I’m fine...!”

“Ya are clearly not!” The tanned Elf intensely glares at her Draconic lover, briefly reaching up to dim Krvavy’s flickering crystal headlight so that she doesn’t have to squint. “Ah ‘ad ta stuff yer guts back inside o’ ya!”

Krvavy unconsciously presses a hand against her stomach. A lightly raised line, smooth but bumpy, rests beneath her palm. “Well... I feel fine now...”

Beryl simply narrows her eyes, making her opinion clear without having to utter a single word.

“Really, I’m –”

“My dearest love,” the Wood Elf looms above this stubborn Drakling, her expression firm and unyielding. “Just ‘ow low did yer ‘ealth go?”

“Uh...” Krvavy isn’t sure if she should answer that. “It didn’t go into single digits,” she diplomatically replies, putting on a smile that hopefully looks charming.

Beryl is thoroughly unimpressed. The tomboyish Elf brings both of her hands up to gently massage at her temples, holding back a sigh. “Ach, ya are just collectin’ scars, aren’t ya...” She softly shakes her head, deciding to let Krvavy get away with nearly dying. At least for now.

“Not by choice...”

That grumbled comment earns the barbarian a glare.

Krvavy rather pointedly ignores that understandable and completely reasonable hostility. With a quiet groan, she presses her elbows into the uncomfortable ground and slowly – successfully – pushes herself upright, doing her best to not wince despite her sore body protesting against even that little bit of movement.

Her vision swirls and wobbles and wavers as she looks down at herself. The long shadows cast by even the smallest of bumps seem to dance before her eyes, jumping away as the crystal strung up between her horns flashes brighter and then darting back again as the gentle glow of Beryl’s own quartz lamp returns to being the only source of light in this shelter. Her head begins to spin.

Krvavy forces her eyes shut and take a few seconds to steady herself. Trying to breath too deeply leaves her sore ribs pulsing with pain and each shallow breath she takes stings her lungs. It takes a fair while before she feels stable enough to try peering down at herself once more.

From the look of it, every single wound that she got in that fight has left a scar.

The small cut beneath her right knee became a faint line across her scales. The gaping hole that was drilled into her outer thigh on that same leg has been filled in, those freshly grown scales slightly discoloured and a little dull. Krvavy can’t see the spot on her lower back where she was skewered on a quartz cluster, and she is far too sore to even consider twisting her body around just to look, but she can still touch it to check if it feels normal. Which it doesn’t. That particular patch of scales feels a little... raw.

Granted, her whole torso feels raw. Pretty much all of the skin in the area around her ribs is currently swollen into a dark purple bruise. Which includes a good portion of her breasts as well...

And just beneath that very visible bruise is yet another scar reaching from just beside her belly button all the way over to her left hip. Honestly, it doesn’t look that bad considering that her entrails were supposedly spilling out of that particular wound...

“I really need to stop doing this...” Krvavy sighs to herself, wincing as she takes too deep a breath.

“Oh? Is tha’ so?” Beryl skeptically raises an eyebrow. “Are ya goin’ ta stop fightin’ like a suicidal idiot?”

“I was referring to how I keep nearly dying, but sure. If that makes you feel better.” The Drakling dryly returns, rolling her shoulders despite the pain that causes. Her body feels stiff and heavy. Staying still will only make that worse.

The tanned Wood Elf simply shakes her head. “Ah would question ‘ow ya’ve lived this long, but ya ‘ave died once already...”

“Yeah and...” Krvavy gently grabs her sweet berry’s slightly trembling hands, clasping them together with her own. “I would have died again if it wasn’t for you. So thanks.”

“Wha’re ya thankin’ me fer?” Genuine confusion tinges Beryl’s bitter tone. “Ah ‘ardly did anythin’ in tha’ whole fight.” Her lips twist into a frown as she turns her head, and most of her body, away.

“You might not have done much damage to that thing, but you were far from useless.” The Drakling’s voice grows firm and steady despite the worn and rather ragged state that she is in. “Your arrows and vines gave me quite a few openings to take advantage of. Your magic, specifically Forest’s Curse, was incredibly helpful to counteract that annoying buzzing and to keep me on my feet. And let’s not forget how that fight ended with you literally saving my life. Seriously, I would not have survived if I was right next to that thing when it... exploded.”

“Ya shouldn’t’ve been so close ta somethin’ tha’ was about ta blow up!” Beryl hisses, glancing back over her shoulder.

“And how was I supposed to know that that was going to happen...?!” Krvavy defensively snaps back, only to flinch and grimace as her nearly shouted response leaves her ribs aching.

“It was obvious! Beams o’ unrestrained magic were leakin’ out from the cracks coverin’ tha’ thing as it kept glowin’ brighter!”

“It was already a lightshow before that point...! It could have just been charging up an attack or even trying to repair itself again...!”

“Ach!” Beryl shouts in frustration, pulling her hands free from the Drakling’s grasp... and burying her face in them. “My dearest love,” her slightly muffled voice sounds far more subdued and tired now, “Ah’d like ta do more than the bare minimum... Ah can’t just stand around ‘elplessly watchin’ as ya nearly die...! Ah felt useless...! And the one thing tha’ Ah could do ta ‘elp ya could’a been done better by Inanna’s runes...! Or even Khalia wit’ ‘er howl!”

Krvavy wordlessly reaches out and pulls her sweet berry into a hug, suppressing a pained wince as Beryl’s wooden armour presses uncomfortably against her bruised body. “I get it,” she gently whispers, planting a kiss on the Elf’s cheek. “I hate feeling helpless too. And I’m sorry for being the reason you felt that way. We didn’t plan to fight anything other than some slimes and got caught off guard because of that. But we still made it through. We’re alive. We’re alright.”

Tension leaves the Elf’s body as she lies limply within her Draconic lover’s embrace. For a moment it seems like she is about to say something, but nothing more than a sigh passes through her lips as she returns the Drakling’s hug.

Krvavy lets the comfortable silence drag on, nuzzling her face into that tomboy’s messy hair.

After a few short minutes, Beryl stirs. She reaches a hand towards the bramble barrier that still surrounds them, still keeping them safe and secure. Those thick vines wilt and shrivel as a leafy pod grows atop her open palm. Wispy mist begins to filter in through increasingly large holes, filling the air with a faint haze. “Sink yer teeth inta this and drink.” The Elf calmly orders, pushing the pod up against Krvavy’s mouth.

The Drakling doesn’t hesitate at all, trusting in Beryl as she bites into that leafy thing. Watery sap gushes into her mouth, causing Krvavy to gag a little on its bitter taste, but she ultimately gulps it all down. “Agh...” She involuntarily shudders. “You couldn’t have made that taste any better...?”

“Think o’ it as medicine, my dearest love. It isn’t supposed ta taste good.” The Wood Elf tiredly replies, before answering the question that she knows is coming. “It’ll ‘elp ya feel better. Not immediately, but over the course o’ the next few hours. Unless ya continue ta put yerself in danger, tha’ ugly bruise should be gone by the mornin’.”

“Thanks.” Krvavy earnestly smiles and leans in to give her sweet berry a quick kiss as the remains of their protective thicket fully crumbles away.

The fog is slowly growing thicker once more, falling down from the cloud above in fluffy ribbon trails. Most of the quartz growths that were scattered across this final floor are now gone, leaving large craters where they stood, though some still remain and continue to faintly hum.

“Now let us get ya ‘ome.”

The barbarian’s smile fades as she lets Beryl help her back up and onto her feet. “But the tower...” She wheezes just a little, feeling more than a bit out of breath as she turns her gaze towards the center of this ancient ruin.

“Ach, are ya fer real?!” Utter exasperation oozes from the Elf’s hissed words.

“What? We can’t just leave without at least checking it out...!”

Beryl narrows her eyes and glares at the barbarian. “We don’t know wha’ could be in there, and ya are in no state ta fight!”

“I doubt that there is anything in there. I mean, at least not anything that we’d have to fight...” Krvavy dryly returns, pointedly glancing at the giant hole in the side of the tower. A hole that absolutely nothing has come out of since the golem smashed it open.

“The slimes’ll likely be returnin’ soon wit’out tha’ dronin’ sound ta drive them away.” Beryl crosses her arms as she states the obvious.

Krvavy straightens her spine and does her best to project an air of confidence, despite how (figuratively) bloody and (literally) bruised she is. “Which just gives us even more reason to check it out right now. Those slimes will have infested that tower by the time we come back here again, and they might end up eating whatever loot may be in there.”

“Ah shouldn’t even ‘ave ta explain this ta ya...” A deeply frustrated sound can be heard as Beryl so heavily sighs. “We’ll almost certainly need ta pass through ‘ere again ta leave this place. So climbin’ up and down tha’ ‘tower’ just gives them time ta come back and cause problems fer us.”

“Then... we’ll just have to be quick about it.” The Drakling replies, already heading off through the slowly thickening haze, her Soulbound Weapon thunking against the ground with each step that she takes as it is used like a walking stick to help support her weight.

“Ach, ya suicidal idiot...” The Wood Elf quietly groans, quickly following after her stubborn lover. “Ah’ll be incredibly cross if ya die because o’ this! And Ah won’t ever let ya live it down! Ya’ll be ‘earin’ about it fer the rest o’ yer, no doubt unnaturally short, life!”

Krvavy simply smiles as she listens to Beryl’s threats.

“Huh...” She slowly breathes out, pausing next to one of the many freshly made craters. She is pretty sure that the golem made this one when it exploded. It is noticeably larger than all the others.

“Is the reality o’ just ‘ow close ya came ta dyin’ finally settin’ in?” Beryl bitterly asks, tapping her foot on the ground.

“Not any more than before.” The barbarian replies, staring down into the crater. “I’m just surprised that this hole is so... clean. There’s no debris and the edge is perfectly smooth. It looks like the floor here just... disappeared...”

“Aye, and it nearly took ya wit’ it.” That ticked off tomboy pointedly states.

“Mhm.” Krvavy hums in agreement, stepping away from the crater. “Kind of disappointing. Not that it didn’t kill me,” she quickly clarifies as a rather angry glare is immediately directed her way, “but that...! Well, there’s nothing left of that golem to loot. Those crystals must have been pretty valuable...”

“Such a greedy Dragon ya are...” Beryl tiredly sighs, disapproval clear in her tone.

“Hey, it’s not greedy to want to harvest the ‘corpse’ of something that nearly killed me!” Krvavy playfully protests, trying to lighten the mood a little. She doesn’t do a particularly good job at that. But still she tries. “I’d say that its only fair, and that the golem was being a sore loser for self-destructing like that...”

Beryl just shakes her head and gently kicks a small piece of rubble.

While the explosions didn’t seem to create any debris, there are still plenty of loose rocks scattered all around this place. Many of which likely came from the tower wall that the golem smashed apart as it made its dramatic entrance...

“Well, my greedy love, looks like ya’ll get plenty o’ shiny crystals ta loot after all.”

Krvavy raises an eyebrow and glances at her Elf, only to see Beryl gesturing towards the tower. Or more specifically, gesturing into the tower. Their lights – well, mostly Beryl’s light – pierce through the slowly thickening mist and into that impromptu doorway, causing the countless crystals inside to glitter and sparkle. It is like one giant geode...!

“Ach, don’t ya go gettin’ too excited!” The Wood Elf quickly holds her bow out, preemptively blocking Krvavy from rushing ahead. Not that Krvavy was going to do that... “Ya’re on death’s door, remember?”

“Trust me, I couldn’t forget that even if I wanted to.” The Drakling dryly states, rolling her stiff shoulders and trying not to wince at the pang of dull pain that sends through her aching body.

Beryl narrows her eyes and meets her Draconic lover’s gaze. “Which mean tha’ ya’ll be more cautious, aye?” The Elf clearly doesn’t expect an answer to that, as she is already moving ahead. “And tha’ means ya’ll be fine wit’ me takin’ the lead, aye? Ah am, after all, not about ta die.”

“Fine...!” Krvavy almost hisses back, unable to keep a frown from filling her face. It just doesn’t feel right to... well, to hide behind her sweet berry like this.

“So protective...” Beryl idly sighs to herself as she steps over some rocky rubble. She mutters out a few more words while making her way to the base of the tower, though none of them are particularly audible. “Watch yer step,” the Elf cautions, glancing back over her shoulder. “There are plenty o’ little shards all over the ground. Might not be the most pleasant fer ya ta step on.”

The Drakling tentatively lowers her foot onto one of those little crystals, slowly putting more and more of her weight onto it. The small quartz fragment simply cracks and crumbles away to dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing to stand on, but it didn’t hurt.

“Tsk.” The tanned tomboy clicks her tongue in disappointment as she watches Krvavy’s little experiment. Without another word, she climbs over the last of the debris and enters into the tower.

Krvavy carefully follows after her.