Solo Brat Management Pt II

[Alric Lysane]

37th Winter 521 AV – Temple of the Unknown It was time for another foray into the warrens beneath Sunberth, he had decided. Last time he had fled that larger chambers, though he had still managed to come out of things on top in the narrow tunnels, walking away with enough to resupply and get back into the darkness once more. As it was he had had an idea about his Shielding and, for once, would need to practise the idea out in the field rather than in a secluded living room or similar. No, when he had blocked smoke, he had begun to wonder whether he could block people. After all, his reason from trying to block smoke had been an extension of his desire to find a way to neutralize Arcadius. And what use is a Shield blocking air if he can just walk right through it? he mused to himself as he stood looking down into the hole in the floor, weapons dotted about his person and the backpack with his spelunking supplies upon his back. He waited for a while, listening and thinking, until he was sure there was nothing down there that was immediately dangerous. Hauling himself over the lip, legs dangling into the darkness until they found purchase, his fingers found their holds and he climbed down slowly, carefully, feeling the dampness upon his handholds forming a thin, slimy veneer he wasn’t about to chance in haste. Once he was at the bottom he crouched down, took off his bag, and waited once more, listening. As time passed his eyes adjusted and he grew used to the dim lighting, his night vision kicking in to help his vision extend slightly further into the dark. Shifting a little ways further down the tunnel he paused once more, letting his night vision extend and adapt even further – something he had learned about spelunking was that there was no middle ground, you either had light or not, depending upon what you wanted to achieve. This time he was more interested in seeing if there were practical applications for the magic he was learning beyond the academic. He’d never use the skills out in the open, but down in the dark tunnels where he had seen not a soul, he felt that he could safely do so without fear of anything but a swarm of Brats. Still, he would wait until he was further into his little mission, he would need a Brat corpse first at any rate. So he set off, pulling out his broadsword and slipping into his sneaking stance – feet put down softly and gently, ball of the feet first as he felt for anything that might crunch before putting his full weight down, slightly crouched to minimize his silhouette. It wasn’t that he needed to do all of those things, but he found it best to ingrain certain habits and it was starting to come more naturally to him after a long season of practise and application. He could remember a time when he’d been caught by a common sneak thief, now he felt sure that he’d get the better of them if he were given the opportunity. He kept up his quite prowling, chalking a corner as he rounded it and listening intently, his ears more useful than his sight for this endeavour.

[Alric Lysane]

Hearing a skittering sound, he paused, fingers gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, and listened. Tapping into his ‘well’ he let his Djed fill him and the world ripple into the passive state of Auristics he had learned. Nothing seemed to be immediately dangerous, the buzzing and humming of the corridors uninterrupted for a few moments before something tickled at his senses. Focusing and letting his eyes scan, the familiar ripple of colour began to appear, low down to the ground and much smaller than he remembered Taz’s being, which meant…Brat. He watched as it grew closer, clearly not having seen his still form in the darkness as it was taking a slow, meandering route, that grew closer to where Alric was crouched, scanning and trying to verify the Brat was alone. Releasing his focus upon it and letting his senses slip back into a more passive state, he felt nothing else beyond the walls. At the last moment he let his Djed dissipate and lunged forwards, hacking out at the beast with his broadsword. A downward slash caught its head and deflected away as he kicked out at it, stunning it so that he could bring his blade back around to thrust into it, pinning it and killing it. He waited for the thrashing to stop before pulling his blade free, with some effort, and wiping it clean upon the Brat’s hide – or as clean as he could get it. Setting the sword aside he pulled out his dagger and cut off a paw from the Brat and set it aside before nudging the rest of the carcass to the side of the tunnel, making sure it was out of the way should his plans turn out to be terrible and he had to make a mad dash for freedom. That done he settled down, weapon with easy reach, and tapped into his Djed once more, both for his Auristics and his Shielding, the now familiar routine coming easier than it had done at the beginning of his practises. He was far from a master, he knew, but the smoothing and extruding of Djed with his hands was simple enough these days, and he waved his hands back and forth before him, circling and gridding them, forming a wall that spanned the entire passage, with a little left for moving it around. He went over it several times, making it several inches thick and plugging any large tears or holes as best he can. Some gaps he didn’t mind but it needed to be able to block the jumping beasts without giving them a way to break through easily. Grabbing the paw he had harvested he frowned and wiped it over the Djed wall he had formed, willing it to start creating the ‘chainmail’ links with its passing, finding that he had to wipe it over almost every part of the Shield before it all locked into place. Even after he kept making passes, solidifying the locked in weave until he was satisfied that it was strong enough. That done he grabbed his backpack and pulled out what he had until that moment concealed – fresh meat. Waxed parchment was thrown aside and he threw the lumps of offal in front of the Shield, taking up his broadsword and settling in to wait, his senses probing and penetrating his construct for weaknesses even as he poured and smeared more Djed onto it, into it, to keep it up. Its smell was strong and didn’t have as much of the ‘rusty’ aroma and sourly coppery taste he had grown accustomed to. That meant it was one of the stronger ones he had formed to date, a pleasing thing given what he was planning on using it for. The colour, though, resembled the hide colour of a Brat and seemed oily to his senses and he stopped focusing upon it before he started tasting sour and sick things.

[Alric Lysane]

Throwing the Brat’s paw at the Shield he watched with grim satisfaction as it impacted, sliding down it a little before ultimately spinning back and splatting to the floor – it hadn’t made it through and so the tasking to not allow Brats through seemed to have worked. Interestingly he had watched as the Shield had rippled slightly, his Auristics picking up on the impact and the ring the flickered out from it before settling back to normal. The links in the Shield had moved too, bending ever so slightly. He had sensed it just as he had sensed the slight tug upon his Djed, as if trying to force more out of him to maintain against penetration. “Thank Eyris for that,” he muttered to himself as he tentatively pushed the tip of his weapon through the Shield, showing that only one task was at play, the blocking of Brat, “I’m not sure if this is what you meant by exploring the depths of my city, Eyris, but it’s a start. Knowledge, it seems, takes longer than expected. Hopefully, in time, bigger pieces of knowledge can be discovered. Perhaps, even, today…if I am lucky. Grant me the wisdom to see it” Then, predictably, the skittering began. It was soft and distant at first, but as it grew closer and louder his jaw set as it sounded like a tidal wave of vermin was coming his way. He braced himself and fed as much Djed into the Shield in front of him as he dared, widening the link between it and himself so that the regular flow was reasonably generous. He didn’t want it to fail prematurely and if he had to flee, he wanted it to hold long enough upon release that he’d get some distance. Eyris had granted him wisdom, it seemed, as moments later what looked to be a dozen or more Brats descended from the two of the other crossroad tunnels – the ones he knew did not lead to dead ends – and tore into the treats he had thrown down in its middle. They swarmed, he noticed, not even allies in their quest for food they snapped and gouged each other’s flanks to try to be the winner of the main prize. At the fringes a few had even succumbed to the frenzy and started killing and eating their own kind – a fact that was both sickening and a relief as it meant less to deal with. As they huddled there were a good few that were within range and he started hacking and stabbing through the Shield, putting down as many as he could before their attentions would eb drawn to him – the fresher, if more dangerous, meat. Whittling down the numbers was key and he did so as quickly and efficiently as he could whilst still remaining a safe grip upon his broadsword. He didn’t get as many as he would have hoped – perhaps a half dozen or so – before the ones at the back of the huddle, who had no chance of getting the offering he had provided now, turned and yowled at him, beady eyes glittering hatred, before jumping at the Shield. He poured his Djed into it further, watching as the first few hit and then slid to the floor, stunned, and stabbing out at them.

[Alric Lysane]

He could feel the surge of Brats now, pushing upon the Shield, scratching, snapping and jumping. It seemed to him as if the Shield was stronger than their attacks and that with every failed attack it seemed to more precisely and strongly task itself. That was a uniquely weird observation hat he’d muse upon later but, for now, he poured as much Djed in and with his free hand smoothed it over the back of the Shield, seeking to add a thicker layers even as he stabbed out viciously with the tip of his sword. It was useless to hack and slash now, he knew, he’d likely just lose his weapon and so thrusting had taken precedence – short, quick attacks that sliced Brat flesh and caused a pool of blood to form on the other side of the Shield. He didn’t know how many there were but the Shield was fully pressed upon and the other side seemed to be nothing but Brat as he kept stabbing and thrusting, carcasses falling and then piling into their own small barrier upon the other side of the Shield. He worked from right to left, stepping sideways back and forth as he stabbed out, felling creatures as quickly as he could whilst his Djed poured into the Shield. At first, he had managed to keep his Auristics up, focused upon the Shield to analyse and feedback to him any issues developing. But he had been forced to drop it with the press of bodies, even the passive state threatening to overwhelm his senses and so for his own survival he had abandoned the magic and focused his magic purely upon the Shield. He must have looked quite bizarre to anyone who might have happened across him in that moment, one arm flashing back and forth into a growing pile of Brat carcasses, the other seeming to be waving back and forth for no reason, at thin air, whilst the Brats themselves seemed to be really wanting to kill him but stopping just short of it. He didn’t know how long he was like that but he did know that by the end his arms were growing tired, not to mention the loss of Djed pulling at his reserves as he stepped back, pulling the Shield with him, and watching as the Brat dead pile retreated and only a handful of Brats surged over it, sending the carcasses tumbling as they forced their way through. He sighed bitterly, having hoped it would have all been over already, but still reasonably happy with the fact he was still alive and fighting. If he couldn’t beat a meddling swarm of Brats, then how could he hope to defeat Arcadius? No, he had to face things like this, to harden and develop his skills, refine them and probe weaknesses. He counted quickly, finding the odds had shifted back towards his own favour – there were eight left and he felt sure he could handle that, even without this experimentation with his magics.

[Alric Lysane]

He poured what felt like the second to last surge that he could offer of Djed into the Shield, stood his ground and absorbed their jumping as he had the others, though this time it felt different, there was a growing give in at least parts of the Shield. Flickering his Auristics back with less bodies for interference now, he focused upon the Shield and saw that the right side was all but done for. It had cracks and thin spots everywhere, having either lost Djed or been damaged to the point of a lack of integrity. He saw it just before a Brat jumped through it, shattering that side of his work and barrelling toward him. His boot lashed out and then his blade, slashing across its side and sending it whimpering to the side of the tunnel. He kept the remaining half of the Shield between him and the Brats as much as she could, but it became a game of isolating most of them with it and then one or two surging around the Shield to attack him. Picking them off one by one was long and annoying but it was his only option as his strength faded. He punched the guard into the skull of another one, hearing the sickening crack even as he kicked another and stamped upon their throat. His sword flashed out to stab both when they were down, leaving three Brats remaining and a growing lethargy creeping upon him. He needed to stop, eat a whole backpack of food, and then sleep for half a day. Instead he shouted, pushed the Shield forwards into the remaining four Brats to cause them to roll and tumble, let his connection to the Djed go and ran forwards and hack, slash, stab, kick and punch the stunned beasts until that only Alric remained alive, standing with tired limbs and listening to the rippling silence that now seemed to echo louder that the cacophony of noise was silenced. He waited for a few chimes, hearing nothing still, before tiredly pulling off his backpack and pulling out the food he had brought for himself – salted meats, buttered bread and some nuts that he still had left from earlier in the season. Sandwiches too that Taz had given him. He munched happily between drinks of a watered-down ale, feeling their restorative energies seep into him slowly over the chimes that passed. Taz had taught him that Djed wasn’t destroyed, merely transformed, and the food was something eh sorely needed to begin the restoration of what Djed he had used in the adventure he was upon. He was both happy and annoyed – happy he had managed to get through unscathed with his proof of concept, but annoyed that he had seemed to weaken and fail in his magics at the last moment. “Arcadius won’t miss that, he’d have punished me far worse than these Brats. Not acceptable Alric, need to be better” he sighed to himself, finishing his food and finding there was still the feeling of a hole in his stomach, though at least he would begin to feel stronger soon even if he would still feel tired for most of the day. He packed all of his things away before he started harvesting the paws of the Brats for their small bounty – he got twenty five in total, though he wasn’t particularly thorough so he wasn’t sure if he had missed any. He continued down the passage, towards the open space he had found earlier in the season, sure that this surge of Brats had emptied it for now, his curiosity calling to him as he pulled off his glove and tucked it into his pocket – hoping Eyris’ gift would help him.

[Alric Lysane]

Exiting the corridor, having lit a torch to provide illumination seeing as he had expended so much Djed and had little left to spare for magic, he found it vastly different from his last unplanned visit. Before he had been greeted with glittering eyes, staring at their prey, and he had wisely fled. Now, through wisdom and planning, he was standing in a wide space, bereft of enemies, and able to explore as his curiosity tugged at him to do. But first he chalked the entrance, so he knew which way he had to head to find the exit once more and he traced his fingers across the stones of the wall. He closed his eyes, his ears pricked for anything’s approach, and settled into that still place within, close but not quite at his ‘well’ and the quieter part of his mind. It was actually easier, now that he was tired, his mind lacking the energy to interrupt itself with random, pointless thoughts. The impressions came slowly, though, as if through rippled waters, which was new for him. He reasoned that it was likely because he was tired but either way they came as he moved. He had mused upon the gift of Lykata – its greatest weakness, he thought, was its specificity in the fact it read single items. Here, though, each stone was a single item and there were too many to count. As he moved through, reading the room as best he could, he found a larger image coalescing from the singular readings. The room had once been created as a labour of satisfaction, a protective and practical thing. There were images of the creators, their intent to create a vast network of tunnels clear though how vast they had managed remained secret. There were feelings of security, as if being upon the surface was less preferable to the tunnels for some reason. It felt…old…but not ancient pre-Valterrian old, though he couldn’t be sure. Images of dozens of people, not stone masons now, flashed through his mind as if they had spent time upon the stones. The occasional sensation of unclean hunger made him think he was sensing the more modern occupation of the Brats at times. Once he was done circling the walls around the edge, he found a large fountain in the middle, now long dry and filled with things he’d rather not try to read. Still where there were nicer, cleaner carvings he traced his fingers across them and knew they had been created with aesthetics in mind, in a time when stone carving was a loved art and labours of such delicacy, when coupled with practicality, were appreciated. All in all, he was impressed, and filled with a sad sense of loss. Eyris had been right, there were old places in Sunberth that had been lost. He wondered, idly, how useful these tunnels could be for those who died on the streets daily from exposure or unsafe conditions. “Its time has passed, it but lingers to remind us that we can be better if we chose to be. All the muscle above, if turned to something better, could clear these tunnels. Repair them, use them, stock them…but they won’t. No…better that they are lost to those who would not use them for something other than another way to transport suffering” he sighed to himself, putting on his glove once more. With one last glance around he returned to the passages, there to find the exit and sell off the Brat scraps as proof of death. Ruby’s would given him a shift for contemplation that night, though as he questioned Sunberth more often of late he found himself wondering how, exactly, that even mattered anymore.

[Alric Lysane]

Your Grades Alric Lysane Skills Auristics – 4 Climbing – 1 Endurance -2 Hunting – 1 Investigation - 1 Meditation - 1 Observation – 3 Shielding – 4 Spelunking – 4 Stealth – 2 Weapon: Broadsword – 4 Lores Lykata: ‘Reading’ A Room Shielding: Shield Breaking Signs Shielding: Shields Can Bend Under Pressure Shielding: Shields Get Stronger If Survive Attempt To Break Shield Tasking: Biological Blocking Sunberth: Underground Tunnels Sunberth: A Greater Past