Chapter 2 #3
Brauxis. Massive, immobile, his huge wings outstretched, his slate blue armor worn, a tattered tabard baring a symbol of a golden fist.
And high above, hovering a good thirty yards above the floor? Alabenthos, his wings clearly ornamental for he didn’t beat them to maintain his place.
A smattering of strangers had gathered to watch the duel. Most were armored in a similar if plainer fashion than Brauxis, while here and there a slender youth or young woman sat, their gazes locked on him.
Rovarik clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck. You’ll need it.” And the young man moved to the stands.
Despite knowing him gone, Harald still searched for Vic’s face in the sparse crowd.
Nothing.
You have chosen to undertake my trial. Alabenthos’ voice filled the great chamber. I shall witness this combat and have instructed Steward Brauxis to fight to his utmost. Let this combat be a referendum on your soul, Harald Darrowdelve.
Harald inclined his head to the distant figure and stepped down to the great circle.
“Ho there, Master Darrowdelve!” Brauxis raised one gauntlet in greeting.
“You have my thanks for allowing Shadowpaw to sport with me. He is a formidable hound, brave and bold. Would that I had such a companion myself. My time here would be greatly enriched. But despite my gratitude, I shall fight you with all my skill. And I warn you, I possess no small amount of puissance!”
“Puissance?” asked Harald.
Brauxis chuckled. A massive blade of living white light coalesced in his fist, its edge undulating and spitting as if alive. “No matter. Actions speak louder than words, and it is a paltry fellow who boasts before a bout. Take your time preparing yourself. I am ready.”
Harald paced slowly around the circle, gaining a measure of the floor, noting the buckled edges of its paving stones. His heart was pounding. If Brauxis was nervous, he betrayed no such fear.
He glanced over at his friends. Seraphina sat beside Sam, her expression akin to a closed fist. Not his biggest supporter, it would seem.
But Kársek raised a fist, and Nessa inclined her head graciously. Sam mouthed something which could have been good luck, but he wasn’t sure.
Harald took a deep breath and turned to face the Emanation. The time had come. The distant sound of a waterfall came clearly through the still air.
He extended his hand, and Chyron’s Scourge manifested in his fist. The Epic-ranked scimitar looked nothing so much as a frozen wave of oil in whose depths glimmered effulgent green eddies, ripples buried deep in the black rock. He glanced briefly at its description.
Artifact: Chyron’s Scourge
Quality: Epic
Special Ability: Soulglass EdgeActivation: The blade shifts between realities, phasing into a toxic dreamscape. Strikes damage the soul and leave psychic scars.
+4 to Strength while wielded
+3 to Ego while wielded
+2 to Constitution while wielded
Next, he summoned the Solace of Aurelum, which he placed inside his shirt.
Artifact: Solace of AurelumQuality: Masterwork
Special Ability: Dawn’s Embrace
Activation: Once per day, when the Solace’s bearer stands upon the threshold of death, the Solace will flare with golden light and fully restore the bearer’s health.
+4 to Constitution
His third Artifact was the Aetherlight Circlet, which he called to his brow. He felt it manifest about his head, light and perfectly fitted.
Artifact: Aetherlight Circlet
Quality: Epic
Special Ability – Windglass Parry
Activation: Once every five seconds, the circlet projects a shimmering arc of force in response to any ranged attack. This arc bends trajectories, scattering arrows and deflecting bolts as though swatted by an unseen hand.
+3 to Dexterity
+3 to Constitution
He checked his window.
Name: Harald Darrowdelve
Soul Nature: Insatiable Void
Soul Rank: Divine
Soul Ability: Condemnation of Success
Class: Abyssal Master 8
Class Actives: Abyssal Attunement, Dark Vigor, Demonic Edge, Abyssal Grasp, Shadow Dominion, Tenebral Surge, Black Halo, Maw of the Starless Deep
Class Passives: Aura of the Aching Depths, Shadow Fortitude, Umbral Aegis, Veil of Shadows, Thronebound Mantle, Grave Concordat, Sovereign Silence, Dread Wellspring.
Endowments: Demon Seed, Mote of Humility
Strength: 17/21
Dexterity: 17/20
Constitution: 17/26
Ego: 26/29
Presence: 13/13
Thrones: 4/7
Scales: 10,435,333/10,000,000
Artifacts: Chyron’s Scourge, Aetherlight Circlet, Solace of Aurelum, Aureate Master
Servitors: Shadow Mastiff (Uncommon)
Harald’s breathing slowed. His pulse settled.
Last, but definitely not least, he summoned the Aureate Master.
It appeared around his arm, a heavy band of solid gold, and with its manifestation all his bonuses doubled.
His muscles swelled, he felt impossibly light upon his feet, and his raw stamina, his ability to take insane amounts of punishment and simply power through went through the roof.
Strength: 17/24
Dexterity: 17/23
Constitution: 17/35
Ego: 26/32
Presence: 13/13
“There we go,” he said, and his voice felt shivery with power. Slowly, deliberately, he raised Chyron’s Scourge and pointed its rough tip at the waiting Steward. “Now. We may begin.”