IABD 53: Beginning Training at Windstone

For three days, Matthias practised Life Energy Circulation.

For three nights, Matthias practised Life Energy Circulation.

The days were trying; the miasma constantly hung over the abbey, clinging to every scrap of clothing, wafting through their home. Even the glass windows, crafted by Polla using the Gift, did little to purge the stench.

Matthias had to tolerate the foul odour as he and his family fell into the routine of cleaning and sanitizing their new home in the mornings, then switching to training in the afternoons.

After lunch, Beggahasta would call her children to the courtyard.

Matthias would sit on a chair, while his mother showed Bregindoure how to wield weapons, and continued training Dagma in the ways of the warrior and the Gift.

Meanwhile, the young greatfolk would focus on Life Energy Circulation, moving a finger while Polla supervised. The mage would rest her hand on his back, feeling the flow of life energy through his channels, giving him suggestions or correcting his technique.

Under her guidance, he would change his grip on his soul, adjusting the flow of life energy between his spirit and body. As he did so, he would breathe in the miasma, which—while turning his stomach and making his spirit shudder—would also help him build his stamina when it came to training the technique.

Just as in The Realm in Dream, he rarely needed rest between repetitions.

Polla kept encouraging him as he practised, all the while, Ellian stayed nearby, pouring over books that looked comically oversized in the youngster’s hands. The boy focused for hours on end, reading quickly, only pausing for a drink from his waterskin or to watch Bregindoure and Dagma training with the warrior woman.

After an afternoon of practise, Matthias and his family would stop for the evening meal. The first night saw them only eating rations, but by the second, Beggahasta had cleaned the kitchen well enough so she and her children could enjoy a hot meal.

When night fell, Matthias went to bed early, continuing his training in the Realm in Dream. Depending on his mood, he would change his surroundings, at times he would recreate the family home in Barrowgate if he was feeling nostalgic, but at other times, he practised at Bear’s Head Pond.

Most often, though, he would practise Life Energy Circulation in the dream-replica of Blood’s Drop. His journey into Divine Breath had started there, and that’s where he felt most comfortable, training with the rumble of the waterfall pounding in the background.

On the first night they slept under a roof in Windstone, he’d focused on Life Energy Circulation, building on the single finger he’d managed to curl; he had started to practise with two fingers, but returned to using only one, wanting to focus on properly solidifying his maximum repetitions.

At first, he could only manage to pump his soul while moving his finger just one or two times, before his spirit would slip from his grasp.

Over the hours, though, the maximum repetition became three, then four…then five…increasing more. By the end of his first night in the Realm in Dream, he could contract his soul a full ten times while moving a single finger, though he wasn’t able to do it while moving two fingers yet.

On the second day, while he practised, Polla took her carriage back to Dagger Rock, leaving to collect Matthias’ tiger skin cloak from the crafter.

“Here it is.” After a short while, the mage was back and handing him a carefully wrapped package. “It comes with a note from Ecaris.”

The note read:

To my young customer,

The cloak’s creation went well and was problem free due to my skill and the fine materials you provided! It will serve to protect you from cuts and piercing attacks, as well as blunt some of the impact from bludgeoning blows. If it is damaged, it will repair itself over time. May it protect you for all your days, and—when you are ready to enhance it further or forge another piece of equipment—then I hope you will remember Wondrous Works for all your future crafting wants and needs! 

-Your Humble Crafter, Ecaris

“Well, if it keeps me alive, I’ll definitely remember you,” Matthias said as he unwrapped the tiger pelt.

He gasped, admiring the way the cloak shimmered, lying in the packaging.

The colour hadn’t changed in the slightest, but the pelt’s sheen was brighter, the stripes now looked like they were forged from gold. It was a magnificent, kingly garment, and one that performed exactly as Ecaris had promised.

Using the tiger fang dagger, Matthias had tried to pierce it…even though he’d slashed the blade across it with all his strength, the worst damage he did was drag a few strands of fur from it.

Then in seconds, the strands had regrown, making it whole again.

“Now this truly is a legendary cloak,” he grinned, wrapping the garment around his shoulders. “It should me help me a lot when I’m facing those ghouls again.”

As those words left his lips, he looked up at the abbey, finding no sign of the undead creatures looking down at him. It was as if the ancient building had finally been abandoned.

“Maybe they’re up to something,” he thought.

The rest of the next day had passed peacefully; he’d continued training under Mistress Polla’s guidance and had improved his technique with Life Energy Circulation. He’d gone to bed early that night, eager to continue training in the Realm in Dream.

Over the course of the second night, he’d brought his maximum repetitions of contracting his soul while moving his finger up to twenty-five and was getting closer to pumping his spirit while moving two fingers.

The morning of the third day passed quickly; much of the hermit house was now spotless—even the filth along the rafters was gone—and the miasma no longer seemed to hang as heavy inside their home’s walls, or maybe they were simply getting used to the smell.

With less work to do inside, Beggahasta started their training earlier.

And on the morning of the third day, Matthias was able to curl two fingers while contracting his soul.

“Look!” he cried alerting Mistress Polla, moving his fingers as life energy rushed through his channels. “I can do it! See? I did it!”

“Very good,” she praised him. “But do not rest on that achievement. Moving two fingers is a far cry from being able to talk, walk or run while circulating your life energy. Redouble your efforts tomorrow.”

Bregindoure—in the middle of a weapon drill with his mace—looked toward his brother, frowning. “Perhaps you can be a little softer on him, Mistress Polla. He did just accomplish something significant after all; would it not be better to simply celebrate that?” 

“I am not in the habit of coddling students.” Mistress Polla’s gaze was sharp, like a night owl watching a mouse from a perch. “Praise must come with greater efforts. That is how one moves forward on paths as harsh as that of Divine Breath.”

“It’s alright, Breg,” Matthias said. “I understand what she means; besides, I have no intention on resting on that one accomplishment. You’ll see me try harder tomorrow.”

Polla smiled on hearing that. “Very good. I expect your very best.”

Matthias gave his very best without hesitation.

For the rest of the third day, his concentration was spent on building comfort with circulating life energy while moving two fingers; one repetition before he lost grip on his soul became two, then four, then eight, sixteen and finally thirty-two.”

By the third night—in the Realm in Dream—he shifted to trying to move three fingers while circulating his life energy. Each hour brought him closer to that goal, and each repetition was having a stronger effect on his channels.

With each passing night, he could feel them strengthening, improving the flow of life energy moving through his body, preparing to take on more Divine Breath in the future. 

His goal was coming closer; he marveled at his progress:

For three days, Matthias had practised Life Energy Circulation.

For three nights, Matthias had practised Life Energy Circulation.

All those hours of practising were bearing fruit…when suddenly, on the third night, his practise time was halted.

The ghouls finally decided to test the barrier around the hermit houses.

###

Matthias had been practising in the Realm in Dream when he heard a distant clamour, the noise pulled him from his sleep and back into the waking world. He woke to the sound of explosions and screeches then saw fiery light flashing through the window. He jumped out of his bed roll in a daze, bare feet slamming on the floor.

“What’s going on?” he muttered.

Nearby, his siblings were scrambling from their bed rolls.

Beggahasta was already rushing for the front door, sword in hand. “They’re trying to get in! It’s the ghouls!”

“What?” Matthias moved to the window.

The scene in the courtyard was pure chaos.

A tide of ghouls came pouring from the abbey, their grey bodies clambering over each other, rushing for the two occupied hermit houses. Spittle flew from their mouths and hunger burned in their dead eyes. 

They did not bother attempting to move in silence; they were fully committed to a headlong charge, fighting to throw themselves over the hermit houses’ outer walls, desperate to reach the prey inside.

At least, that’s what they were trying to do.

As the creatures attempted to vault the walls, the air around them came alive. It had been dead calm, then suddenly, it began gusting, forming a vicious wall of wind that held the ghouls in place as though they’d been caught in the silk of a spiderweb.

Around the perimeter of the house, the layer of boulders began shimmering, ejecting sharp spears from the rock, impaling any ghoul captured by the wind. Held firmly in place, the undead could do little but watch, as the air ignited, coating them in flame.

“By the gods!” Matthias shouted.

Outside, it seemed like night had turned to day as ghoul after ghoul tried jumping through the wall of flame—determined to bypass their trapped kin—yet ending up enveloped in burning wind and speared by spiky-stone.

The fires jumped from ghoul to ghoul, growing higher and hotter, it made no difference how big or mighty the ghoul was; whether troll, ogre or some other mortal, they all died the same way; caught and burning in flame.

Swearing under his breath, Matthias ran from the house, holding a hand up to his face, watching the flames grow. Ghoul after ghoul kept coming, throwing themselves at the wards, seeking to overwhelm them.

Ghoul after ghoul then burned in the rising pyres.

His mother was standing outside, watching the undead turn to ash; her towering figure silhouetted against the flame.

Seconds later, Bregindoure and Dagma came outside, following their mother and brother, squinting against the fire.

“By the Ascended, will the ward hold?” Bregindoure shouted over the roaring flame.

“It will hold,” Beggahasta reassured him, firelight flickering across her grim face. Her eyes flashed in the dark. “Mistress Polla is far more powerful than I when it comes to The Gift. Her wards will hold. But, look over there. We are being watched.”

She pointed through the flames.

Through a gap, Matthias spotted the ghoul knight they’d seen watching them after the first attack…but this time, it had company.

The leader had emerged from the abbey, standing in the dark, watching the flame, that strange eye-symbol carved into its forehead was fixed on the scene; on either side of it stood two other ghoul knights, their natural eyes were also burned away, leaving a mass of scar tissue, eye-symbols had been carved into their foreheads.

They too wore fine armour, though it was not as well polished or maintained as the first ghoul knight’s own. One of the knights was noticeably taller than the other two, it wielded a menacing poleaxe shedding that same strange, prismatic smoke. The other one carried a sword, like the first one had, it also had skulls fixed to the surface of its armour, bringing to mind a graveyard of victims it always carried with it.

The three ghouls made no sound, seemingly content to watch the display with contorted grins and their eye-symbol mutilations. Yet, Matthias understood; these creatures were not simply watching with an empty-headed hunger.

They were plotting.

Examining.

They were analysing.

“Look at those three, they are some of our true enemies,” Beggahasta said.

“There’s more than one of them now!” Bregindoure groaned.

“And likely more below us.” The warrior woman began drawing her sword.

The ghoul knights’ grins widened, though they very quickly scuttled away from the abbey’s entrance.

As they went, every ghoul in the courtyard, not in flames began withdrawing, returning to the once holy building. They turned, even if in mid stride, rushing back to their home, disappearing into the darkness. 

This time, they left no bodies behind; those undead slain by fire and spikes were now ash, whirling through the air.

Soon the fire was dissipating as the wind died away.

The spears slid back into the rock.

Once again, the night turned peaceful, with only the stench and drifting ash left to tell of the ghoul attack.

“Mistress Polla’s wards are amazing. I’m going to learn to do that,” Dagma said.

“I am sure you will one day,” Beggahasta assured her daughter. “Now, back to bed.”

“Wait, we’re not going to talk about what just happened?” Matthias asked.

“The only thing to say is that the enemy now knows they cannot penetrate our defenses with force of numbers,” Beggahasta said. “No doubt, they will try guile next time. In any case, we are safe for tonight. Calm your pounding hearts and cling tightly to your pillows. Get your rest, you will need it. Learn to sleep with the enemy on your doorstep. Learn to balance alertness with your need for rest; you will not always have a powerful mage’s wards to defend your camp.”

With those words, she marched back inside their home.

Matthias looked across the courtyard toward Polla and Ellian’s hermit house, it was near where the fires still flickered.

There, he saw the mage floating behind her ward, hands clasped behind her back, watching the abbey with her owl-like gaze.

Her eyes fell on Matthias.

She said nothing, but she looked satisfied.

In that firelight, she and the ghouls did not look so different.

###

Author's Note

Training begins and we explore more of Windstone's mysteries!

Also he's got his new cloak. And I got to show off what the wards do, which I was happy about. NGL, whenever I write these Windstone chapters I listen to the Tristram theme from Diablo, particularly this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qy74-NmxFeI

Cya tomorrow!