The Mother of Monsters

When the Ascendant Wightling didn’t move right away, Teyva shifted nervously on her feet. Instead of launching into a headlong attack like its kin, the creature simply stared at them; its bulging eyes marking their positions with an eerie calm. Azrael clicked her tongue, drawing her throwing knife and twirling it once between her fingers before stepping a few paces to the right. One of its eyes shifted a little and she stepped back to where she had started only for the eye to shift again.

“What is it doing?” Elat murmured.

“Waiting for us to strike first, perhaps?” Azrael grunted, her lips set in a thin line.

Teyva frowned, without warning, she willed her swarm to spread out; the fifty golden glints erupting from her satchel and spreading into the trees around them. Elat jumped back while Azrael barely reacted. The big orc glared at Teyva before turning his attention to the trees; sudden realization dawning on his face. The Ascendant Wightling seemed to consider the tactic, its head tilting a little to one side as it clawed absently at the glowing spot in the center of its chest.

Azrael’s legs bent a little; “Anything?”

Teyva said nothing right away, her mechanical hands opening and closing as little thoughts and voices bounced around in the back of her mind. The curious mockeries swept through the surrounding foliage in search of prey. When a sudden excited chorus erupted in her mind, Teyva grinned and gave the order to strike. The order was followed by the sounds of screaming Lesser Wightlings in the distance, their bodies likely being peppered by the vicious mockery swarms that had gone out to hunt them.

“Looks like this guy had a plan,” Teyva said, “Not that it amounted to anything. My babies will take care of the mobs. Let’s focus on the big guy.”

“Music to my ears,” Azrael said, “Care to do the honors?”

Teyva stepped just enough to the side to get a proper line of sight on their enemy. It had turned its head completely to the right, its body rigid and alert. It was listening to the sounds in the distance. It turned its head back towards the trio and bore its teeth again, letting out a hysterical scream and slamming its palms against the ground. Yet before it could dart forward Teyva used [Grip of Frost].

A ring of light formed beneath the mighty horror, it looked down in time to see frost crawl up it’s legs and cling to its oily flesh and fur. Teyva was satisfied to see the symbol for [Hungering Cold] appear above her status bar. Gratified that it wasn’t immune to her affliction she held out her mechanical arms; [Grip of the Tomb Guardian] being the obvious choice for this fight given she wanted to focus on casting. It reduced her mana costs by a whopping 20%. Making it easier to fire consecutive shots off. With Nephral’s ability to restore her mana over time she could churn out low-cost spells with little effort as long as she was free of having to resort to melee combat.

“It’s slowed! Get in there!” Teyva called as an arrow whipped past her head. Unlike before she didn’t flinch this time, it screamed across the gap between their group and the monster and found one of it’s jutting bones, cutting clean through the hard material with a sickening crack.

“Yes, My Lady!” Azrael called, drawing her sword in her right hand and her throwing knife in the left. She darted forward, a barrier forming just a few feet ahead of her so long as the party remained at her back. She hurled the weapon at the creature just as she shouted out an incantation. “Like the wind, swift footed!” Her body flickering once and darting forward so fast that for a moment Teyva lost sight of her.

She hurled herself at the Ascendant Wightling, swinging her blade up in an arc across its chest before it had so much as a moment to react. As her blade struck the throwing knife dug into the spot just to the left of Azrael’s head. The creature screamed, letting out a bellowing howl that rippled through the air. Teyva felt something cold curl in her stomach and she grit her teeth to resist the fear effect as she began to conjure up [Pale Bolt]s to hurl into the creature’s body, stacking on the damage as much as she could.

The Ascendant Wightling raised its arms and swung down, Azrael rolling to the side quickly enough to dodge the first attack but was caught when it abruptly changed the trajectory of it’s swing. The blow crashed into her shield and sent her rolling to the side. It turned its head, focusing on the closer threat and letting out another roar of panicked hatred as it bore down on her, claws extended. Teyva switched back to [Grip of Frost], casting it hurriedly as Azrael scrambled to her feet. Another pair of arrows fired past Teyva in time to dig into the horror’s shoulder while it trudged through the field of pale light.

Teyva fired up her Journal to keep track of the thing’s health.

Azrael tucked and rolled to her left, trying to position herself back in a spot between the party and the creature. After a few heartbeats her barrier, [Warden of the Front] reformed and began tanking blows from the frenzied beast. Azrael took a few steps back, the sheer ferocity of the blows sending her into a backpedaled retreat while Teyva and Elat supported from the back, firing off shot after shot into the monster’s form. Teyva hazarded a glance behind her and made eye contact with Elat before looking at The Marble, standing stalwart and ready for his mother’s orders. Elat nodded.

“The Marble! Get in there!”

The Marble sprouted his legs and charged, weaving around Elat and Teyva and making his way toward the hated enemy. Its mouth opened and revealed rows of pointed, acidic teeth accompanied by a single tongue-like appendage that whipped back and forth excitedly. Azrael rolled back in time to get behind The Marble; the wall-mimic throwing itself at the Ascendant Wightling and giving Azrael a chance to recover. The two took turns, passing in front of the other and attempting blows on their powerful foe as it focused almost exclusively on melee combat.

“It doesn’t have any ranged abilities?” Teyva wondered aloud, charging up another [Pale Bolt] as Elat nocked an arrow. “It doesn’t seem to be moving around very much either, with those long legs I figured…”

Just as she spoke, the creature let out a scream that sounded more frustrated than anything. It whipped its arms back and struck The Marble, sending the Mimic onto it’s back. The Marble’s legs flailed uselessly for a moment before it shifted the position of the limbs to push itself back up. In that time the creature swiped at Azrael with a vicious haymaker, the Azar taking a surprise hit and rolling away. When she got to her feet, the Ascendant Wightling raised its head high and opened its mouth, thick black smoke roiling from its throat.

“Azrael get out of there!” Teyva shouted. Azrael didn’t have to be told twice, she hurried away while The Marble backed up. The smoke billowed out and faded, leaving nothing behind.

“What?” Elat grunted, spinning around, “Where is it?”

Teyva reached out to her Mockeries and found that they were already on the way back. None of them could see the monstrosity either. “Did it really run away?”

Azrael shook her head; “The scent is growing distant but it’s still not far.”

“It’s planning to hunt us,” Elat ground out, lowering his weapon.

“Probably,” Azrael said, sheathing her own weapons, “We’ll need to be vigilant until we see it again.”

Teyva sighed, shifting her arms back to normal and rubbing them. The sensation of shifting was something she still hadn’t got used to. She stroked Nephrals chin and walked over to The Marble. The great big lug was staring off at the space where the enemy had been, it’s misplaced eyes filled with confusion. She patted the hard surface of it’s back; “Good boy, it’s okay, we’ll get him next time, alright?”

“I didn’t like it’s name,” Azrael said as the mockeries began to reappear. The swarm hurrying toward their mother’s satchel.

“Notice that too?” Teyva said, holding the bag open for the little ones.

“What was it?” Elat asked.

“An Ascendant Wightling. What was with that glow in its chest?” Teyva said, rubbing her wrists.

Elat and Azrael exchanged glances. Elat spoke up first, “Implying that its trying to ascend?”

“Seem’s so. You don’t think it’ll try to replace the Bound One, do you?” Azrael said thoughtfully.

It was Nephral’s turn to chime in; “I doubt it, that creature had a survival instinct, Lady Azrael. I daresay it wishes to become more than just another Bound One.”

“Then we kill it next time,” Teyva said, “I’ve had enough of these creepy things.”

“Agreed,” Elat and Azrael said in unison.

The group departed from there, continuing their march after the momentary interruption and making camp shortly thereafter. The group took shifts keeping an eye out for the Ascendant Wightling but the horrific thing never showed its face again throughout the night. There was some quiet debate about whether or not they’d truly frightened the thing or if it was simply licking its wounds. Eventually, the trio decided to stay alert as morning came and they made their final preparations to leave the forest.

It was around noon on the fourth day that Nephral, who had been darting through the trees ahead of them, came back to report that they’d reached their destination. Excitement flooded through Teyva’s tired limbs and she ran with Elat and Azrael to the forest’s edge, watching as the trees thinned out into nothing, leaving only a sight Teyva would never forget. Her first view of the world of Orum beyond the wall of trees she’d known ever since she arrived.

It took her breath away.