"Testing oneself alone is never an easy task. And often, it is not worth it. But gods-damn does it feel amazing." - Anonymous
Ciaran Xanderson is my OC.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Dreaming Keep. A huge fortress, locked in a nightmarish slumber. Countless years ago, the Keep was the epicentre of a huge battle within Asmana as part of a long forgotten civil war. Now, full of nightmare creatures that reanimate the dead soldiers within, commanded by a General who's mind was halfway between the waking world and the dreaming world. The Keep occasionally rose from the ground as a challenge to Asmana's adventurers to go inside and face the horrors within to earn great loot.
A huge crowd stood outside the foggy door that marked the entrance of the place. Chatting, showing off treasures they'd earned, forming groups of 3, or even 4. Ciaran Xanderson was apart from the crowd, his short brown hair ruffled by the light breeze. His blue eyes watched other people head inside the Keep inside their groups, and he pulled at the collar of his grey tunic nervously.
Ciaran would be going inside alone, and take on the Dreaming Keep by himself. A shakiness that had nothing to do with fear of death held him in place. None could die in the Dreaming Keep; they were merely teleported out of it and locked out of attempting it's challenges for the day. No, what Ciaran feared was trying and failing, and trying and failing, and trying again and again only to fail every time.
He shook his head to snap himself out of his reverie, and stepped through the foggy door. He came to a long corridor, like he'd seen repeatedly on runs through the place before. But this time, the stones within were jagged and broken, covered with moss. Flickering torchlight in sconces was the only source. He eventually came to a door, engraved with a faded picture. He could make out a figure standing atop a pillar, overshadowed by another figure standing atop a mountain of corpses.
He heaved open the door and entered a long room, far better lit than before. There was some kind of tower at the end of the room. He stepped forwards, heading towards the middle, and the floor at the entrance gave away, into pitch-blackness. Looking down into it gave Ciaran a sense of sickness, though he knew if he fell down he'd just be teleported out of the Keep. He shook off the nervousness and walked towards the centre.
As he reached the halfway point of the room, a figure appeared in the tower, jet black with some white shading. It wore armour that looked clumsily fitted, though Ciaran couldn't be entirely sure. He saw the figure pull a lever, and the floor below him began to move backwards.
Ciaran started to walk forwards to keep up with the moving floor, and he saw a huge boulder coming towards him. Stepping to the side, he let the boulder pass him by, only to see additional boulders cropping up at random along the moving floor.
The floor suddenly stopped moving. Ciaran sprinted forwards a short distance, but then the floor started moving again. Ciaran quickly figured out what he had to do to pass, but the question was if he'd be able to last long enough to do it. He wasn't the most durable of wizards.
The boulders began coming towards him and he stepped from side to side, dodging them. From left to right to right again. But he couldn't see any pattern that the boulders took in coming towards him. It seemed completely random.
The floor stopped. Ciaran sprinted forwards again, making good distance before the floor moved again. Looking up, Ciaran figured that he could probably land his shot from here, but didn't want to risk missing. He'd wait until he could aim properly.
A whip-like chain suddenly lashed out at him from above, and he rolled to the side to dodge it. A boulder came close to him, but an instinctive wave of his wand and it was blasted to pieces-
Wait, he could have done that the whole time? He suddenly felt very stupid.
The wizard began dodging the chains side to side while blasting any boulders coming towards him. Walking forwards while keeping his eyes on the sky for any chains lashing out towards him.
The floor stopped a third time. Ciaran needed but a second to aim his wand before casting the spell: "Carpe et trahere!" The purple tendril shot from Ciaran's wand and latched onto the figure. He pulled hard and the figure fell onto the floor as it began to move again. Before the figure could do anything but stand up, Ciaran had aimed his second spell and shouted "Glacies Conlectus!"
The ice spike froze the figure's feet to the moving track. It tried to get free as it rapidly approached the edge, becoming more frantic in it's attempts. But to no avail. The figure went toppling over the edge with a fearful scream. The floor stopped for what Ciaran knew was the last time.
Ciaran kept walking onwards through the door and down another hallway. This one was rather more elegant, with smooth walls. However, there were a few skeletons buried in the walls, and Ciaran tried to shake away the thoughts they they were watching him. They didn't glow like most revived undead, so there was no reason to think they were-
One of the skeletons suddenly reached out at him. His wand swished through the air and the skeleton was reduced to a pile of dust, though still trapped in the wall. Ciaran exhaled deeply and moved onwards, walking a little faster. Eventually, he came to the next door. This one was just the one figure, standing atop the mountain of corpses. Looking closer, Ciaran saw that they weren't corpses, but skeletons.
He pushed open the door and found himself in another cavernous chamber, but this one was circular and rather well-lit already. In the centre was a second black figure. This figure wore spiked armour and was flanked by what could only be called an army of black skeletons, all exuding blue-ish auras. It spoke in a deep, ethereal voice "Your magic... all that power, and yet without a strong will to guide it properly."
"I have more than enough will to take down some bungler of a necromancer." Ciaran's reply came as sharp as the taste of the putrid air.
The scowling figure raised it's sword at Ciaran and the skeletons charged en masse. But the wizard was ready.
"Fulgur fluunt!" Ciaran's lightning chained between the skeletons, and a few of them were vanquished, collapsing into piles of bones. But the rest kept advancing on him, weapons drawn. He had to kill them all quickly, before the first pile got back up.
Ciaran then moved to the right in a wide circle, drawing the skeletons towards himself. He waited until he could see a skeleton trying to flank him from the far right before pointing his wand to the right of the horde and shouted "Fluvius Ignis!" A jet stream burst through the line of skeletons, turning them to ashes. His arm sweept to the left, cutting through the other skeletons the flames touched.
Only a few skeletons were left, and with a few waves of his wand, they were all felled by arcane arrows. Though it had no face to give expression, the figure was clearly shocked, looking at the mass of bones and ash littering the floor.
Ciaran felt a strange new power now that the skeletons were all down. An energy darker, but no more evil, than he was used to. He swished his wand through the air in a double-circle and the skeletons were all pieced together bit by bit, ashes included. Their colours were also inverted; instead of being prominently black, they were now white.
The wizard pointed his wand at the dark figure, concentrating hard. Focusing on destroying the figure, on wanting to leave him as nothing but a smear on the floor. The skeletons charged. With a battle cry, the figure charged back into them. Although the figure fought hard, only 4 skeletons fell to his swordsman ship before he was killed.
The skeletons collapsed as the door at the end swung open, showing the path forwards. Ciaran stepped over the threshold and the door swung shut behind him. He couldn't see a thing-it was pitch black. He lit his wand with a light spell and began to walk-
"CIARAN! HELP!" A familiar voice screamed. A shot of pain surged through him as he recognized it.
"Vanessa." Ciaran ran towards the voice of his former lover, hoping that he wouldn't have to see her death again. He came to a vast chasm, with a drop he couldn't see down. The sight made him slightly sick with fear. There was a ledge on the other side, but it was so far away...
The voice sounded again, from the other side of the chasm "HELP ME! CIARAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"
The wizard shouted back "Vanessa! I'm coming! I'll-" But the drop before him looked endless. What if he fell? Would he keep falling forever? What if-
"AAAAAAAAAAH! CIARAN!" Vanessa's cry of pain shot through the wizard like a potion. He felt tears stinging his eyes.
"Vanessa, I'll be right there! Carpe!" the wizard cried, aiming his wand at the ceiling of the corridor. The purple tendril shot from it and Ciaran, gripping his wand tightly, stepped off the edge.
"GAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" he screamed, swinging to the other side, the air whistling in his ears. His hand reached out and he grasped the other edge. Breaking the tether to the ceiling, he pulled himself up and sprinted into the blackness Vanessa's scream came from.
How long he ran, he didn't know. He only stopped when he came to another door. Without pausing, he burst through it. There was a singular figure in the centre of the chamber, completely black like all the others, but this one looked more like a magic user. The figure turned around, revealing itself to be feminine in nature.
"Oh, please dear Ciaran, help me! I don't know how long I can hold on!" the figure taunted in a mocking voice, before starting to laugh mirthfully.
Ciaran felt a burning pain in his legs from running, and his heart ached. He pointed his wand, but the figure merely waved a hand, conjuring a white barrier around itself. His ice spike was deflected.
The figure suddenly seemed to smirk. Then the ground beneath the two of them gave way and Ciaran was falling into utter blackness with a shout of fear. But he quickly crash-landed in a huge light blue chamber with a transparent floor and no walls. A mass of green, orange and purple energy swirled together into a large rainbow circle at the end. The figure gracefully floated down, echoing the same mirthful laughter from before.
The figure landed and cast a bolt of black energy that Ciaran barely dodged in time. Ciaran fired back with an arcane arrow, but it was absorbed by the barrier. The figure's laughter echoed as it shot out a barrage of mystic arrows that Ciaran was able to counter with a repulse spell.
Ciaran was stumped. He'd never encountered this kind of barrier before, and he knew that his most powerful spells wouldn't make a dent in it. Then he saw something moving to his right as he dove to avoid the figure's next spell.
It looked like a swirling mass of blue energy, flowing all around itself in a figure of 8. He knew it would help him break the barrier, but he wouldn't able to jump to the platform it was on. That left only one option: he fired a tether at the ceiling and swung towards it. As soon as he touched it, he felt it coursing through his body-his very mind.
The figure let out a snarl, preparing black fire in it's hand and slammed it into the ground. The ground began to glow as it heated up. Ciaran could see a safety spot but there was no way he could reach it in time-
But he knew what to do: gazing at the spot of safety and desiring with all his will to move there, he felt himself vanish as the floor ignited into pillars of flame, reappearing in the safe spot. He felt the spiritual energy flow into his wand all by itself, and he turned around to the figure, raising his weapon:
"Piyarsim bolta!" he cried; a powerful light blue shot burst from his wand and impacted the barrier directly. The barrier shattered like a window, and the figure was staggered by the force at which it was broken.
Ciaran let loose: casting a barrage of 7 Arcane Arrows at his target. They hit hard enough to throw the figure off balance while Ciaran charged up his next spell, before letting loose with a cry of "Sphaera dei Flamma!" The ball of flame flew into the figure and exploded, but the figure brought it's barrier back up before the fire could burn it for very long.
The figure shot another volley of mystic arrows, but Ciaran dodged them with another swing to a platform out of it's reach. The figure then began charging up another spell in it's hand. One Ciaran recognized.
The figure and Ciaran both pointed their spells at each other, the wizard with a cry of "Cinis Cinarem!"
The two spells clashed in the middle, and a huge blast of force sent both of them reeling. Ciaran tethered the ceiling again, to ensure he wouldn't fall off. The figure only skidded back a few inches, but looked surprised that he was able to match her power. The only problem is that now she considered him a threat.
Ciaran spotted the next swirling mass of energy and swung around to it. He was getting good at this. The figure fired a volley of ice spikes at him, but he was able to counter with an ice beam that froze them all together. The trick, he reminded himself, was knowing the pattern they fired in.
The figure conjured three sources of power above itself-orange, blue and yellow. Ciaran, hoping his rapidly-formed plan would work, took aim at the middle, knowing it was ice: "Fulgur sagitta!"
His bolt of lightning hit the blue sphere and it exploded, chaining the wizard's lightning to the other two spells and destroying them. The figure slumped over. Ciaran didn't give it a chance to cast a third spell, pointing his wand and repeating "Piyarsim bolta!"
The barrier was shattered a second time. The figure couldn't even recover before Ciaran had chosen his next spell: "Cinis Cinarem Dilata!"
The beam doubled in size mid-cast and the figure screamed in pain upon being hit by it. After a mere few seconds of feeling the arcane burning his fingertips, Ciaran ended the spell and aimed an Arcane Iecit. His aimed proved true: the purple beam of split-second light hit the figure directly in the chest, where it's heart would be.
"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" the echo was vanquished with a strangled cry, dissipating into the air. Ciaran's vision distorted at the edges and he suddenly found himself back in the original chamber, the floor now intact again. A door opened at the other end; he walked through it to find the loot room. A single chest, engraved with glowing purple markings, stood before him.
He opened up the chest. The first thing that caught his eye was a huge bottle of rum; it was dusty, so the drink must be ancient. He smiled and opened his pocket portal; he'd drink it later. Right now, he was too exhausted to enjoy it.
The next thing he saw was a picture, turned face-down. He picked it up, looked at it and felt his heart skyrocket. The picture was of the most beautiful elf he'd ever seen-voluptuous all over, with beautiful orange-yellow hair that covered one of her emerald eyes, wearing a dark green bikini far too small to contain her opulent breasts. Ciaran could swear he could see them bouncing slightly... He folded the picture up and pocketed it in his trousers.
The third thing he noticed was an amulet, ornately carved into the relief of Amore, Asmanan Goddess of Love. He put it on and felt no effects. He pocketed it, supposing he'd better take it to the Temple of Amore to see what enchantments it had, if any. If nothing else, they'd probably compensate him for bringing it to them.
Lastly, he saw a goblet. It looked cursed from the aesthetic; black onyx inset with rubies and spikes at the rim, like teeth. He decided to take it to Wakeeda. Even if it wasn't cursed, he wanted to know if it was enchanted or if it was just designed by someone with peculiar design tastes.
The portal back outside opened for him. He was exhausted, his body ached all over, and he never wanted to repeat any of that again. Especially not alone. But the feeling that surged within him as he stepped through and smelled the grass, felt the cold wind against his cheek, heard the chatter of other adventurers, was pride.
Someone shouted aloud, pointing at him "Hey! That guy just stepped out of the Keep alone!"
And so began a new trial. Ciaran smirked as people started to gather around him "The first person to buy me a much needed plate of chips gets their question answered first."
No comments:
Post a Comment