SOM - Chapter 35 - Anchors Away

As Luke and Frank made their way back to Rurik's forge, Luke couldn't help but feel that the ancient city was different. There was something in the air, as if the death of Maruk had disrupted the dungeon beyond the confines of the viran cavern.

Halfway there, they were attacked by a [Shade] emerging from the shadows, its ethereal form flickering in the dim blue light. This was undead territory and the [Shadow] aetherling didn't belong. Luke swung his hammer, but the weapon passed harmlessly through the creature's incorporeal body.

[Level 11 Shade - An aetherling that walks the path of the Night Weaver. Core Domains: Shadow, and Tailoring.] 

"I'll take this one," Frank said, his red eyes gleaming.

Luke watched curiously as Frank's shadow began to move on its own, detaching from the ratling's feet and swirling around him.

The shade lunged at Frank, but the ratling dodged with uncanny speed. His body blurred, and Luke saw that Frank's movements were echoed by his shadow, creating afterimages.

Frank struck at the lesser shade, his axe passing through the shade's body. To Luke's surprise, the attack connected, and the shade recoiled.

The two shadows engaged in a deadly dance, their forms intertwining and separating in an almost choreographed display. The shade fought with grace as it used threads of black shadows to try to tangle up Frank, who twisted, turned and sliced through them. Luke could only watch, his own abilities ineffective.

With a final, decisive strike, Frank's axe tore through the shade's form, and the creature dissipated into wisps of black.

Before Frank had time to brag about his victory, a crash echoed through the streets. A nearby building shuddered, and a hulking figure burst through the crumbling walls.

It was a golem.

The undead construct's body was a twisted mass of bones, fused in a form that loosely resembled a giant crab. Its elongated arms ended in wicked claws, and its empty eye sockets burned with an eerie green light. It let out a grating roar like glass shards being dragged over a chalkboard.

Luke pointed Fenn at the creature, a smile on his face. It was only level sixteen, and he was confident in his odds. 

The bone golem hurled a massive chunk of rubble at the pair, and Luke moved forward to intercept it. With a grunt of effort, he flared his [Brace] ability, and the projectile smashed against him with all the impact of a tennis ball.

Not wasting a moment, Luke dashed forward, closing the distance between himself and the golem. He launched a series of powerful blows, each [Kinetic Strike] reverberating through the creature's bony exoskeleton. Cracks began to appear in the protective shell.

With a bit of effort, Luke unleashed his [Null] ability. The golem had a higher resistance than any single viran, but after softening it up the ability worked just fine. Luke swung an uppercut blow to the golem's underside, and knocked it up in the air.

At about twenty feet up in the air the golem left the confines of Luke's aura and started to fall back down to the street. When it landed it took a few seconds before getting back to its feet, which was plenty of time for Luke to smash through the rest of its defences and pulverise the necrotic control crystal at its core.

That went better than last time, Luke thought, recalling an encounter where he had to run back to the forge and hide behind Rurik.

As Luke and Frank approached the forge, the cold blanket of undeath that smothered the city was burned off by the sweltering heat of Rurik's forge. The air shimmered with its intensity.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, and not only because of the heat. He hadn't yet brought up his plan with Frank.

"Listen, Frank," Luke began, his voice hesitant. "Hear me out first before you react, but I've been thinking about our options. I think our best chance of survival might be to ask Rurik if I can kill him."

Frank's eyes widened, and his face contorted with anger. "Are you out of your mind?" he snarled, his hand instinctively reaching for his axe. Luke knew that since Rurik helped Frank get rid of his [Thrall] domain the viran felt indebted to the dwarf.

Luke quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I said hear me out," he said, pointing to a looming shadow giant in the distance, notably further west than the [Nightwalkers] usually roamed. "The alternative is fighting whatever controls those things or battling an army of ghouls. As an anchor, Rurik won't die permanently. He'll respawn."

Frank's gaze followed Luke's finger, and he grimaced at the sight of the shadow giant. His anger seemed to dissipate slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression.

Sensing Frank's temperamental state, Luke suggested, "Why don't you go scout the Gothic cathedral while I talk to Rurik? Maybe I'm overestimating it and we could take it out without any problem."

Frank grunted in agreement, still not entirely pleased with the idea but recognizing the logic behind it. With a curt nod, he turned and headed towards the cathedral, his shadow trailing behind him.

Luke entered the forge alone, the heat enveloping him like a suffocating blanket. [Fire] aspected aether was thick in the air, and this would be a perfect opportunity to break through to silver.

He found Rurik hammering away at a blade, surrounded by an array of weapons in various stages of completion. The dwarf's skill and dedication were evident in the craftsmanship of each piece.

As Luke's gaze wandered, he noticed a model train chugging along a miniature replica of Lundheim on Rurik's crafting table. The train was familiar, but the city itself was different.

In the east, the Gothic cathedral had been replaced by a large tomb of blocky dwarven design, and to the west, the collapsed section of the city housed a sprawling facility. Down at the docks, the River Styx was gone and in its place, a small idyllic lake with tiny fishing boats dotted the landscape.

Luke's attention was drawn to the facility with cute miniature gardens, trying to decipher its purpose. Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice when Rurik set down his hammer and approached him.

"This is what Lundheim used to look like, as best as I can remember," Rurik said, his voice carrying a wistful tone. "It gets easier to visualise whenever another anchor dies, so I assume you were successful. I felt one perish not too long ago, diminishing their influence over the dungeon."

Luke tensed slightly as the dwarf startled him. There was a gulf between them even with his recent gains, and Rurik could be stealthy when he wanted. Luke's mind raced as he tried to find a tactful way to broach his proposal. He thought of his brother and the impending second wave of invaders. Even if Rurik declined to die, he needed to at least ask.

"Speaking of anchors..." Luke began hesitantly. "With the second wave coming, and my brother still out there, I've been thinking about our options. Frank is out there now scouting the cathedral, I was hoping you might know more about the Draugsvär, and… something else."

Rurik's brow furrowed, and he turned to face Luke fully. In his hand materialised a beautifully crafted sword, its blade gleaming in the forge's light. "This is Vera. Thrice infused aeldrin steel, forged by the hands of one of the greatest smiths to walk through my doors. She had a spark of brilliance that was once in a dozen generations," he said, his voice thick with emotion. 

Rurik paused a moment before continuing. "You still have a chance to save your brother, while my old friend has been dead for so long that I can't even recall her name. Each time I die, I lose a little of myself and with it, the memory of Lundheim fades, as you well know."

Luke swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as Rurik's piercing gaze bore into him.

"You should watch what you say near the domains of powerful cultivators," Rurik said, his tone low and serious. "You're not the only one with enhanced hearing."

Luke's heart raced as Rurik's words sank in.

He had been careless.

To Luke's surprise, Rurik threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the forge. "Relax, son," the dwarf said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've died more times than I can count. What's one more death in the grand scheme of things?"

Luke let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as Rurik continued.

"In return for my sacrifice, I have a small request," the dwarf said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Bring me a bottle of [Firewhisky] from the marketplace. I could use a good drink before I go."

Luke's stomach dropped. He had spent all his credits on cultivation resources, and the [Fire] aspected booze sold at a premium. "I'm kind of low on funds right now..." he began, his voice trailing off.

Rurik shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "You know, I've been considering your offer to sell my crafted weapons and armour," he said, gesturing to the impressive array of gear surrounding them. "Perhaps it's time to let go of the past and embrace the present."

Luke's eyes widened at the dwarf's change of heart. When he had previously suggested selling Rurik's stuff the spirit chastised Luke for suggesting such a thing. That hadn't been the worst part. Rurik then spent the next five minutes whispering to a half-completed helmet that he would never give it away.

"Are you sure?" Luke asked, not wanting to pressure the dwarf.

Rurik nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Go ahead and put up that axe for the same price as a [Firewhisky]," he said, pointing to a beautifully crafted blade on a nearby workbench. "It's time for my children to see the world beyond the forge."

Luke carefully picked up the sword, marvelling at the craftsmanship. It was [Rare] quality, though only mortal grade. He opened up his marketplace, and hesitantly listed the weapon for sale. Listing it for only a thousand credits, it didn't surprise him when it sold only a minute later. It had been massively underpriced. 

Returning to the forge, Luke handed the bottle to Rurik, who accepted it with a grateful nod. The two sat down, sipping the potent liquor and chatting about their very different experiences in life.

As the minutes ticked by, Luke and Rurik came to sit in companionable silence. The dwarf's cheeks had taken on a rosy hue, and his eyes had a slight glaze to them, but he was far from the uncontrollable drunken state Luke had witnessed before.

Rurik set down his empty glass with a decisive thud. "Alright, son," he said, his voice steady. "It's time. Go ahead and do what needs to be done."

Luke hesitated, a sudden wave of uncertainty hit him. Despite spending almost two weeks in the dungeon, covered in blood and gore for much of it, the thought of taking Rurik's life turned his stomach. The dwarf had been his lifeline, a mentor and friend despite his quirks.

Sensing Luke's reservations, Rurik fixed him with a stern gaze. "Don't be a baby," he growled.. "Make it clean, and come visit me in a few days."

Luke swallowed hard, his grip tightening on Fenn. With a deep breath, he inverted the hammer, the claw glinting in the forge's light. In one swift motion, he swung the weapon into Rurik's chest. Even with all his [Strength], it was hard work penetrating the dwarf's sturdy flesh.

The spark went out of Rurik's eyes.

Instead of blood, liquid magma poured from the wound, sizzling and hissing as it hit the ground. Some of the molten rock solidified into shimmering platinum coins, which Fenn eagerly absorbed with a satisfied hum. Luke reached down and picked up one of the coins, marvelling as his credit balance jumped by a thousand.

[Quest complete - Kill the Forgemaster. Rewards generated from resonance.]

[You have gained enough experience to reach level 15.]

As the words flashed before Luke's eyes, his armour began to glow. Hidden runes emerged from the intricate engravings that depicted the story of Lundheim, pulsing with a soft, ethereal light. Suddenly, a burst of fire erupted from Rurik’s corpse, engulfing Luke in a swirling vortex of flames. He felt the aspect's aether flow into the metal, infusing it with newfound power.

[Concept ranked up: Fire - Silver. Awarded for direct exposure to the soul of a high level [Fire] aspect. +3 Empathy. You have enough affinity with this concept to create an Ability. Like moths drawn to a flame.]

[Armour Upgraded: Eldrinsvär Royal Plate has become Lundheim's Legacy, a unique item, by consuming the soul of the last Eldrinsvär.]

The announcement rang in Luke's mind as the flames dissipated, leaving him standing in the centre of the forge.

Alone.

Rurik? What the fuck was that?