A Record of Ash & Ruin: The Grieving Lands - Book 2: Chapter 25: Divine Fury

Known far and wide as the manifold goddess, the bringer of bounty, and the dread mother of monsters, Iasis commands a most-complex and enigmatic reputation. Depending on the land in question, she is held either in deep reverence or vile scorn. Many of the old tales credit the vibrant life of Gesthe to her divine intervention, while others blame her for every ill wind and calamity that has ever befallen the world.

– The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.

My remaining enemies advanced upon me, and a lone Tides warrior dismounted and charged at me with a berserker’s scream. This was foolish, for I was Justice made manifest upon this plane.

This was the thought that entered my mind, a thought that was not quite my own. A fanatic’s rage filled me and I deflected a strike from a heavy curved sword and countered with a Power Strike. Then another, and another, and another – in a savage combination. My weapon, a holy tool of divine fury, smashed through the thin platelets of lamellar and crushed through to the bone. The nameless enemy died pathetically, gurgling sweet nothings to the world in his own blood.

You have slain a Human 15 experience gained.

You have learned Riding (lvl.1) You have learned Maces (lvl.3)

Waving the notifications away, I saw through the haze of my growing fury that my Stamina had dropped precipitously low. It seemed that with rapid use, Power Strike drained far too much of my Stamina. This was the price for using skills in rapid succession.

My Drain continued to leech energy from Tarkhan, and my Stamina began to claw back up in time with each breath I took. The battle was far from done, and only a few seconds later Tarkhan charged me, along with one of his men. The young commander’s youthful features had grown sallow, and fear and desperation haunted his eyes. He engaged me with a weak roar, his strikes slow and filled with fatigue. It stood to reason; his Health, Stamina, and Magic were all but drained. The man was but a light blow away from entering the afterlife and being added to my experience total. However, the soldier at his side, who struck at me with a rounded ball mace, was still relatively fresh. Unlike Tarkhan, he presented to me a completely different proposition.

They worked in tandem. Tarkhan, slow as he was, acted as a distraction to give the other man openings, and his spear provided the range to fend me off. Fighting against more than one opponent, no matter how weakened one of them was, was exponentially more difficult. To counter them, I had to move my shield constantly, the mace-flail in my other hand providing little in the way of defense.

Even as I fought the pair, the rest of the conflict devolved into a general melee. The combatants had taken the fight inside the ring of wagons. Making a wide sweeping strike, to create space, I broke off from the pair who had been hounding me. Luckily, Tarkan and his partner were cut off by the spears of the guards.

Two fellow guards, near Larynda and Kidu, rushed to their side. I raised my shield to help protect them as we dragged the pair back to the relative safety of the armed and grim-faced womenfolk. Having saved my companions, I returned to the fray with a shout and renewed vigor. Many of the caravan guards would earn a bonus today, I thought wryly to myself as we fought against the remaining enemies.

Then something started in the enemy’s ranks, a note of sharp discord that added to the general bedlam. This chord of chaos drew a sliver of my attention, even as I blocked another strike from a round mace.

“Stop this! This is blasphemy. Are you all blind!? The Herald has come! You saw it yourself. He is filled with the light of heaven! I see now—we had been foolish. Who are we to go against her will!?” screamed the red-haired woman, the righteous fervor of a divine epiphany in her voice as she tried to stop her men.

“Silence, Cordelia! What is this foolish talk of following the will of Heaven? I have my own orders from the Cardinal. Interfere with those, and even you will be deemed a heretic to go against his divine word,” shouted Sergeant Mistevan sternly, his voice a deep, angry bark as he parried a guard’s spear thrust.

I had to divert my attention away from their exchange as Tarkhan and his lackey fought their way to me. Noticing that I was momentarily distracted, Tarkhan made a last, desperate move and charged me. From his expression, he must have been saving something up, perhaps out of ingrained heroism or sheer spite. The young man lunged desperately at me, his spear seemingly appeared to strike at three places at once. It was impossible to cover all the angles of attack, and one of the spearheads found its mark. The sharp point split through the chainmail links at my thigh, dropping me to one knee and doing twenty points of damage to my Health. It was but a drop in the ocean. My dark magic ate away at the last of his remaining Health, ending his life even as the newly-inflicted wound scabbed over. Laughing, I rose again on steady feet.

You have slain Tarkhan Aigiam 15 experience gained.

His lackey wavered and was only a few moments from breaking. Worriedly, he looked for support from some corner. It was support that would never come. My Stamina had recovered significantly and I was struck upon a new idea. Power Strike was a skill that could be used both armed and unarmed. It was time to use it a little creatively. I used Power Strike, imagining kicking down against the ground, and in essence, causing me to jump forward at a great speed. Launched forward, I met my opponent with a crash, knocking him over. We fell into a clanking heap of flailing limbs. Straddling the man, I lifted my shield with both hands and smashed the edge into his face. Again, and again, my shield rose and fell, smashing bone and flesh into a bloody pulp until I got the notification of his death.

You have slain a human 15 experience gained. You have learned Shields (lvl.3)

You have learned Dash (lvl.1)

“The venal Mauros thinks only of himself, and of power and worldly gain. So be it. If you seek to go against the will of the Goddess, and side with the words of an earthly priest, I will stop you myself,” the woman Cordelia cried, in a voice taut with conviction. Her words, even in the heat of battle, reached out to me.

As soon as I got to my feet, a tabarded man engaged me up close, holding his sword halfway up the blade as he sought a weakness in my armor. Coming within a knife’s range, he failed to find an opening, and instead ended up tackling me down to the ground. We rolled around together on the grass, each searching for an advantage. What he lacked in strength, he made up for slightly in skill, leveraging joints and using locking techniques to try to overpower me. It was not enough, for I had found the knife at my hip. I slipped the wavy blade under his thick gorget, the weapon finding its way to his throat like an unwelcome guest, and ended his life.

You have slain a human 20 experience gained. You have learned Unarmed Combat (lvl.5)

You have learned Daggers (lvl.4)

My body was thrumming with power, seeking more violence as I rode a high of adrenalin and raw life force. Something within me had changed; the Unarmed Skill, having reached level five, had changed me somehow. This feeling was soon confirmed, as I was given another notification.

You have learned Improved Unarmed Combat (lvl.1) You have gained 10 experience

I raised my shield to block another arrow, as I quickly read the notification. A quick glance at the rest of my interface showed that it had supplanted the basic Unarmed skill. I was delighted that my battlefield experimentation had given me a new useful skill, Dash.

I had enough Mana to cast a few more spells. It would be churlish of me not to use them. Skulking in the corner of my mind, as if in hiding, was my Rust spell, its existence almost completely forgotten. I would have the magic do some work this day. Like a hound of war, my Entropic Aura was straining at its leash and begging to be let loose. So let loose it was, and the insidious waves of energy pulsed with me at its center.

I saw a soldier who was engaged with a caravan guard, and targeted him with the full force of my Rust spell. Dark bolts of hungering lightning mixed with the pulses of Entropic energy. Unerringly, the magic found its mark. The mouthwatering smell of roast pork, an aroma at odds on the battlefield, filled my nostrils. The soldier writhed on the ground, cooking in his own armor as it oxidized at an accelerated rate. The guards who had been engaging the soldier turned almost green, and my face lit up with a smile, full of satisfaction. It was a few long moments until the tabarded soldier went to meet with his goddess, his agonized death cries a sweet song that finally stilled when the caravan guard put him out of his misery.

You have slain a human 7 experience gained.

A quick glance at my Status showed that I was still very much in fighting condition.

Health249/288 Stamina23/63 Mana4/14

The tabarded men wavered for a moment, confusion and division running rampant through their ranks as their leaders argued with each other, even as they fought a resisting enemy. They were unsure of whose orders to follow. Unfortunately, the greater portion of their number seemed to be Knight-Sergeants men, as most of the unengaged soldiers moved to support him.

“Hubris to think that you would know of her wishes, little Goddess. We know that you bear that sword only because you spread your legs for his Eminence,” spat back Knight-Sergeant Mistevan.

The red-haired woman snarled back at this, raised her long slender sword, no longer seeking restraint but satisfaction, and answered with violence.