Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 12

I spent the rest of that day sitting on that cold temple floor and trying not to fall asleep. That proved especially difficult with a belly full of meat and weird fruit, but now that I knew it worked, I had to make an effort. Since I was sure that taking a bath would only make me even sleepier, I decided to skip it for now and stew in my own stench for a bit longer.

However, as the night slowly set in, I found no great revelations, no stat increases, no wailings that I could understand or otherwise. There was just uncomfortable silence punctuated by outside sounds of debauchery, laughter, and music.

It wasn’t much different the second day. I made a point to eat as much as I could for breakfast knowing that I’d be sitting in that dusty cavern for who knew how long. I splashed some water from one of the streams under my armpits but skipped the bath once again. I had no issue with washing up around people, but those were no ordinary people. Even taking my armor off was enough to get an offer from a dwarven lady or a horny satyr to help me with my pants.

With that I went to the temple and got into that cross-legged position. I focused on my breathing, but it seemed even more difficult than the day before.

After a couple of hours, I opened my eyes, tired of trying and with my legs numb like deadwood. And there he was, Snowdog staring at me judgingly. He didn’t’ say anything nor did he have to. I simply closed my eyes again and focused on my boring fucking breathing.

I thought about all kinds of things instead of calming my mind, though. I was wondering why I got so much experience points for simply learning a single word from the souls. The increase in intellect made some sense and it was only a single point, but two-thousand XP for hearing the word ship seemed like complete overkill. Still, it made me hopeful that I’d progress even more given enough time.

Snowdog had brough me some fish and raw vegetables about halfway through and after I ate, I continued until night had set in. I didn’t get anything out of it. Again. I knew it was too soon to expect more of the quest souls, but I still hoped for something at least.

On the third day I woke before dawn and ate the last ration of bread and dried meat Garfor had packed. I washed my face in the stream, thought about bathing for about five seconds, and decided against it yet again. I guess I hoped that my smell would at least deflect some of Snowdog’s acolytes.

The temple was empty and dark when I entered. The candles from the day before had melted and were cold in the fresh morning air. I stretched as best I knew and got onto the floor.

“Alright, breathe,” I muttered and closed my eyes.

With my mind and body half-asleep I somehow managed to actually focus on it for much longer than the day before. It felt like I was afloat on a sea, just rocking back and forth, free of any thought and obligations. I couldn’t tell how long it lasted, just that it felt sort of nice. Well, until a certain someone waddled his way into the temple.

“Frank, I’m in love,” Tyfus said, tearing me from the meditation. Before I even opened my eyes, I checked the notification in my Deeproot.

[You have gained +1 to your INTELLECT stat]

“So that’s why,” I muttered, understanding Snowdog’s intent with the whole meditation thing. My intellect was now at 50 and though it didn’t really change much, the fact I could just sit in one place and focus on my breathing to raise it put me in such a good mood that the gnome almost didn’t bother me.

Almost.

Tyfus walked up to me with scruffy hair and his robes untied, dragging along the dusty temple floors.

“Did you hear what I said? I’m in love, Frank. I met someone.”

“I’m very happy for you, but I need my peace here.”

“She’s an elf, Frank. An elf! Can you imagine? I never thought it would be possible to feel like this again. Love Frank! At my age!” He was visibly drunk, swaying left and right which made me wonder what time it was.

“Is it noon already?”

“Noon? I don’t know, Frank. Time flies by here, you know?”

“Alright, Tyfus. Thank you for sharing this…news,” I said, getting up.

My legs were numb again and I realized I was hungry which could only mean I had been meditating for at least a couple of hours. Still, I was too excited to stop now. I wanted to see if I could get another point which wasn’t going to happen with the gnome around.

“I’ll be with you tonight, but I need you to go now.”

“What are you even doing here? I mean I know you’re meditating or…whatever,” he snickered. “Frank is meditating. Ridiculous. You need to get your shit together, Frank. There’s a whole alcove of fun out there and you’re sitting in this dusty place by yourself.”

“Tyfus,” I said, my tone turning dark.

“What?”

“Go away.” The sweaty mage scoffed at me as if insulted but waved me away. “You’re boring.”

He made his way out the temple and I smiled, watching him go. Had he really found love? I didn’t care as long as it kept him out of trouble.

I got back to the matter at hand, closing my eyes, and diving back into proper breathing. However, it was either because of Tyfus’ interference, hunger, or my expectations that I just couldn’t focus on anything but my own worries for the rest of the day.

I made my way out of the temple at dusk, struggling to understand what had happened. While I did get that one point in intellect, I spent the whole day getting there, so it still felt like a waste. Just as I hit the last step, Snowdog appeared from behind one of the thick stone columns holding the red temple to Esheytan up against the heavy rocks above.

He seemed startled by my appearance, though there was something else on his face, guilt. Two chickens came flapping and clucking behind him. I never thought a chicken could look that surprised or even shocked but there they were.

“Frank,” Snowdog said, tying the string on his pants. “Done already?”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered, watching the chicken run off. Snowdog looked over his shoulder and back at me.

“All creatures in the abbey are entitled to love,” he said as if justifying something he wasn’t sure could be justified.

“Not here to judge, Snowdog.”

Those poor animals didn’t look like they were too eager for love, but I really didn’t want to get into it. I was in his house after all.

“Anyway, I got another point in my intellect stat today.”

“Ah,” he smacked his lips. “Good, good.”

“I need to ask you, though. Is this meditation thing something anyone can do to gain stats or is it just me?”

“Oh, no, Frank. I mean yes, anyone can do it, but only your class can do it this quickly and together with your souls quest it makes for a perfect combination.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your time in this world has been cut short, it’s true. The quest forces Spellmongers to act quickly, but it also allows your body and mind to absorb everything faster. What you accomplished in three days here would take an ordinary person weeks if not months. You must have noticed this before, no?”

“Huh,” I muttered.

I thought back on the time between that fateful day when that eye latched on to me and now. It seemed that whatever I touched whether it was my persuasion skill, carpentry, or haggling, it grew quicker than anything before. When I became a club owner, I sort of assigned all of that to the fact that those were skills and stats related to my new profession. You never knew with the damned Deeproot anyway.

“Go!” Snowdog said, chuckling and slapping me on the shoulder. “Rest and do it again tomorrow.”

I smiled warily, eyeing the spot his hand landed on.

Having dreamt of chicken, I bathed first thing in the morning. The stream was cold and refreshing and did much to shake me awake. I was eager to get to the meditating so I just grabbed a weird looking apple and ate it on my way to the temple while everyone was still asleep.

I was good that day. I managed to delve into my breathing from the very start and picked up another point in intellect before noon. Happy I had made progress, I forewent lunch and continued to meditate until late in the afternoon when I grabbed yet another point. I had to end it early that day, however, because hunger had set in hard and I couldn’t focus on anything but the smells of roasted meat wafting up to the temple.

For the next few days, I managed to grab two or three points by late in the afternoon, ignoring my hunger and thirst for the most part. There was no word of Tyfus during my sessions, so I had all the peace I needed. Not even Snowdog came to check on me or bring me food. I was on a roll and by the end of the week, my intellect had jumped to a hefty 61 points. I would eat in the evening, sit with some of the abbey folk, converse, joke around, and fall asleep early so I’d have an early start the next morning.

On the eighth day, sometime after midday, the voices finally came to me. This time I thought I was ready, though. As the cries intensified, I continued to focus on my breathing, whispering to them and myself that I wanted answers.

[WARNING: Souls begging for the Everdark 337/1000]

[DESCRIPTION: More souls wish for the Everdark with every passing day, month, and year. Spellmonger, you can ignore a whisper, but can you turn deaf to the wailing cries of a thousand souls?]

Interestingly enough, last time it said 334 souls and it usually went up by one point, but this time it went up by three. I made nothing of it, instead I tried to open my mind as Snowdog said, and let them in. It still felt like shit, though. I felt myself sweat and breathe hard, I felt the loss of control that accompanied the voices, and tried to focus on my breathing, but all that went out the window rather quickly.

Still, as the wails and cries filled my senses, I could make out the same word again.

“Ship,” it said.

“More!” I hissed through my teeth. “Give me more!”

“Ship,” it said again and then another word I couldn’t make out at first. I clenched my teeth harder and grabbed onto my knees, squeezing them.

“Relax,” came a voice I knew was neither mine nor of the cursed beings from the Everdark. It was Snowdog. Somewhere out there, outside my field of vision.

I breathed in again, relaxeding my jaw and my hands.

“Don’t…Let him…Ship,” the souls said in an almost normal speaking voice and then they vanished and my eyes opened to see the Three of Steel smiling before me.

“Don’t let him ship. That’s what they said,” I blurted out as the familiar feeling of having reached a new level washed over me. Gods it felt good. I hadn’t leveled in so long I almost forgot what it was like.

“Good,” Snowdog simply said. I saw a number of notifications in my Deeproot

[You have received 4,000 experience points toward your SPELLMONGER CLASS]

[CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE LEVELED UP!]

[SPELLMONGER LEVEL: 62]

[SPELLMONGER CLASS EXPERIENCE: 390/29,000]

[You have gained +1 STAMINA stat]

[You have gained +1 STRENGTH stat]

[You have gained +1 AGILITY stat]

[You have gained +3 INTELLECT stat]

BASIC INFORMATION

NAME

Frank Midnight

RACE

Human

CLASS

Spellmonger

LEVEL

62

STATUS INFORMATION

STRENGTH

80

STAMINA

78

AGILITY

78

INTELLECT

64

“Do you know what it means? Don’t let him ship? Don’t let who ship what?”

Snowdog shrugged his big orcish shoulders.

“This is as new to me as it is to you, Spellmonger. Be happy and pleased, my friend. You’ve made great strides.”

“I have, haven’t I?” I said, feeling good about myself. Despite how utterly boring most of it was, I couldn’t argue with the results.

“How long do you think—” Snowdog raised his hand and shook his head.

“Don’t.”

“Aye,” I muttered. “Then nothing to do but keep going, eh?”

He nodded, smiled, and made his way out of the temple. A thought of the Midnight Bounties crossed my mind as I watched him go. How was everyone doing? Was the war still far away?

For the next few days I continued my routine, forgoing both breakfast and lunch so I could string together more meditating. Each session brought more intellect points, sometimes it would only be one, some times three, but never more than that.

Two weeks in, I realized I hadn’t seen Tyfus in days. Not that I missed him, but I did start to worry about him here and there. The gnome did like to indulge in the good things in life, and the Peacespeaker’s Abbey was pretty much just that. There was always the danger of him not wanting to leave, or worse, doing something that would make the people of the alcove banish him. Yet my focus was entirely on my time in the temple. I was inching closer to something, I wasn’t sure what, but I knew it was big.

Another interesting thing that happened was that my mount joined me in the temple, and he would just sit there, his eyes closed and breathing mimicking mine. I wondered what that was all about.

Once I hit 70 points in intellect a new message popped up in my Deeproot. I was surprised to see it, because it wasn’t a new level or anything I had seen before.

[CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE REACHED 70 INTELLECT!]

[SPELLMONGER CLASS SPECIFIC UPGRADE AVAILABLE]

[CHOOSE TWO SPELLS TO UPGRADE]

The message came with little explanation. It didn’t tell me what the upgrades entailed so I wasn’t sure what to do at first. I went through my list of spells and thought for a while. There was one spell that I was sure I’d upgrade because I had been using it all the time, (Rift Walk). I used to have three charges for it and when I accepted the upgrade, a new description popped up,

[SKILL: Rift Walk]

[DESCRIPTION: Merge into the Everdark and appear at a chosen location within range.]

[UPGRADED EFFECT: Enables the caster to instantaneously move to a visible location. Rift Walk has FIVE charges, after which it goes on a one-minute cooldown. OPTIONAL: When moving through an enemy, release a blast of Everdark energies that will damages and push them back.]

“Lovely,” I muttered to myself, smiling all the while. Since the upgrade to my (Rift Walk) was that powerful, I didn’t hesitate to assign the next upgrade point to (Morgefah’s Favor).

[SKILL: Morgefah’s Favor]

[DESCRIPTION: Call upon Morgefah to fill your body and soul with the power of the Everdark.]

[UPGRADED EFFECT: Increase all damage dealt by 100% but lower all defense and resistance by 10% for one minute. Gain 40% attack speed and add another 15% with each successful hit. Extra damage is applied with every next successful hit. Inflict EXTREME FESTERING debuff with every successful attack, lowering your enemy’s armor and resistances by 5%.]

“Fuck me!” That increase was beyond anything I expected. The damage amplification went from 45% to a raw 100%, not to even speak of all the other effects that were now 50% better on average.

“Alright, let’s get to fucking meditating,” I said to the empty temple.

It might not have been the most gracious call to quiet wisdom, but I sure as hell meant it. I dived back into my breathing with such enthusiasm that I stayed long after night had set in. I only stopped as the first sunrays hit my closed eyelids, but then got up quickly, realizing I hadn’t eaten for a whole day.

I went down to the stream, grabbed some fruit and a piece of cold charred meat hanging from one of the spits and returned to the temple without wasting time on sleep. I didn’t feel like I needed to rest, but the truth was, I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep getting more power.

I strung together that whole day without eating or even getting up for a moment to stretch my legs. I just sat in that temple like one of Esheytan’s statues, breathing and becoming more powerful simply by being. Something had clicked in my head, some sort of lever was pulled that filled me with a seemingly endless amount of patience.

For the next three days I didn’t eat or sleep. I would occasionally hear Snowdog come in and leave a bowl of water next to me. I would drink it once he was gone then simply return to my meditation. In the evening of the fourth day, the voices came back again.

[WARNING: Souls begging for the Everdark 347/1000]

This time there were ten more and I did as I had done before, letting them scream into my head until the words made sense. I didn’t clench my teeth, I didn’t brace for the pain. I simply sat there, waiting and accepting. Somehow, I didn’t feel a complete loss of control either though it was far from comfortable.

“Ship,” the words began again. “Don’t…Let…Him and the other…Ship.”

“The other?” I asked.

“We are…” they began and I felt my heart pumping hard. Some semblance of an answer was finally forming, I just knew it.

“We are…Chained…Chained…Chained…”

“Chained to what? How do I free you?”

“To all,” the voice said and then more joined it for a deafening wail before they were all sucked away into silence. I gasped, opening my eyes and staring through the large entrance to the temple. Silver rays cast by the three moons washed over the dusty floor.

“To all,” I muttered. “Chained to all? What does that mean? And what does it have to do with the ship? And who is him? Morgefah? And the other? Ugh…”

I finally got up, realizing my legs were indeed completely numb. My knees gave in and my ass hit the cold floor of the temple. I winced as pain shot through me.

“Fuck,” I grumbled. “What the fuck?” I cursed as I checked my Deeproot.

[You have received 8,000 experience points toward your SPELLMONGER CLASS]

[SPELLMONGER CLASS EXPERIENCE: 8,390/29,000]

“Eight thousand? For a few sentences? What the hell is this?”

“It makes sense,” Snowdog said, startling me. He was leaning against the stone doorway with his hands crossed over his chest. For a change, his face was neutral.

“How so?”

“This quest you’re on, it is the main Spellmonger quest, isn’t that so.”

“That’s so.”

“And what does Morgefah want from you, Spellmonger?”

“Shit if I know, Snowdog. That’s why I’m here.”

“I think you do know, Frank. He wants your help. He needs you to become as strong as possible before you enter Hell. All the Spellmongers before you didn’t live up to what was necessary. They all died, including my mother. And why was that the case?”

I shrugged though I had an idea.

“Because they rushed into Hell to save their minds from the voices. They didn’t understand the quest. Yes, it was made so you had no choice but to enter Hell, but it was something else, too. Power, my friend. The souls are a source of vast power, Spellmonger, and you’ve learned to suckle on it.”

“Aye,” I agreed.

“Suckle on it longer then,” he said.

“Let’s agree not to call it that, eh?”

Snowdog smiled.

“I can agree not to…call it that.”

“Good. Let me ask you something else. Have you seen my friend Tyfus? What’s he up to lately?”

“Ahh, the gnome, yes,” he said, picking something from his teeth. “A ball of fire that one is. A lot of endurance, great ambition.”

“Tell me the truth, Snowdog. Tyfus is an asshole, but he’s also my friend, so I know him in and out,” I said, guessing that he was trying to be non-judgmental.

“There’s few like him.”

“Come on, I know what Tyfus is like. You can tell me if he’s causing trouble.”

“He will find his peace,” he said and smiled again. “And so must you,” he turned away and stepped out of the temple.

“Peace,” I muttered after him. “Perhaps in another lifetime.”