In the Center of Svaneti

A discomforting quiet hangs in the hazy air.

There are barely any fires out here, hardly any flames crackling away. The Duke’s siege weapons have long ceased launching their burning trails of destruction through the smoke-choked sky. Even the distant sounds of combat seem to have... mostly... faded away.

The barbarian’s heart beats to an anxious rhythm. Ahead of her stands a stone wall, with a proper crenellated battlement stretching between projecting towers and a bulky gatehouse. But, much like the previous line of defence she came across, it is completely unmanned.

Krvavy slowly chews on the inside of her cheek.

Is she... too late...? Has Thea’s family...?

No. If the Duke had already won, then his men would be up on these walls, securing his new keep. The fact that no one is up there must mean that these defences have only just been breached. The keep itself is likely being sieged, with the quiet either implying a stalemate or... that the fighting has moved inside.

Krvavy subtly picks up her pace, hurrying along the cobbled road that climbs this hill. Her fingers tighten around the haft of her axe as she approaches the dark gatehouse.

Its wooden portcullis is lowered... and has been rendered useless. Enough of those thick latticed beams have been chopped apart that not even this Drakling has to duck through the gap left in them. Grains of worryingly warm sand cover the paved path beneath her feet as she swiftly advances through this short tunnel, heading towards the dim light filtering in from the other end.

But before she steps free from the shadows... the barbarian slows to a stop, her gauntleted hand bracing against what remains of a second portcullis. Her emerald eyes narrow into slits as she stares through the smoke. A scowl finds its way onto her face.

There are a lot of soldiers out there. Most of which are... quite well armoured. Maybe not to the point where they’d look like knights – though there are plenty of those too – but still better equipped than nearly all of the men Krvavy has seen and killed tonight.

Some of those soldiers are idling about, catching their breath and recovering their stamina after all they’ve done to get here, but the majority of those men are moving with purpose. The few structures that can be seen through the smoke are being steadily surrounded, stables and storehouses seized as the more defensible positions are put under siege. One such building draws the Drakling’s gaze.

Looming from the haze of soot and ash... is a castle. A proper castle. Albeit one that isn’t too big. At least not compared to Rina’s estate. Or that bulky one in Vratsa... But it is still big compared to everything else here in Svaneti. Taller than it is wide, with peaked roofs surrounded by battlements and towers at its corners. And there are defenders up on its high walls...!

But...

Krvavy can also see what must be the front door, raised up nearly a full story above the ground and accessible only by a sloped wooden bridge which spans across a dry moat.

It stands open and undefended.

The Drakling clenches her jaw and grinds her carnivorous teeth together. Her time is limited. She needs to kill the Duke before he kills the Baron. And not just to save her first fiancée’s family, but because she needs Svaneti to still have some sort of authority, so that they can negotiate a ceasefire. Otherwise Krvavy will have to fight her way out of this conquered city.

A single, Draconic foot steps out of the safety of this unmanned gatehouse. The other follows shortly thereafter, clawed toes clicking into ash coated cobblestone as she hurries forward, the various items attached to her loincloth belt bouncing with each jogged step she takes.

The path ahead is open and exposed. There is no cover to conceal herself behind. The smoke isn’t thick enough to hide her from these soldiers’ sight.

“Huh?!” A sound of surprise rings through the air as Krvavy sprints past a soldier. “Hey! HEY!”

And just like that... Voices begin to call out, orders are shouted, knights move to intercept Krvavy... but none who get in her way are strong enough to stop that barbarian from barrelling through them.

2,814.75 Damage dealt to [Intercepting Knight]

The Drakling’s armoured shoulder, ducked down as she blitzes along this path with magical wind at her back, slams into a silvery breastplate with the **** of continents colliding. Metal creaks and yields moments before that obstacle is sent flying back, earthquakes echoing through that body as it crashes into this keep’s stone foundation with a sickening crunch.

1,378.48 Damage dealt to [Intercepting Knight]

[Intercepting Knight] has been slain!
+2,362.5 Experience

Heat wells up within Krvavy’s core, her lungs burning as she leaps across the sloped wooden bridge. Discomfort flashes through the Drakling as she skids to a stop, clawed toes leaving faint scratch marks on the flagstone landing. Her throat glows a deep and bloody red. Her jaw snaps open.

483.15 Damage dealt to [Pursuing Knight One]

375.09 Damage dealt to [Pursuing Soldier Three]
528.33 Damage dealt to [Pursuing Soldier Three]

243.84 Damage dealt to [Pursuing Soldier One]

A torrent of crimson flames sweeps across those soldiers, repaying them for the hell they’ve brought to Svaneti. Agonized cries fill the air as gambesons serve as kindling, catching fire far easier than they ever should, while mail and plate begin to glow from that intense heat.

311.12 Damage dealt to [Pursuing Soldier Two]

146.32 Damage dealt to [Pursuing Soldier Five]
98.57 Damage dealt to [Pursuing Soldier Five]

Countless notifications flood through Krvavy’s mind, that endless stream diminishing as the sound of ice melting to water then steam joins those pained screams.

[Pursuing Soldier Five] has been slain!
+607.5 Experience

Level Up! You have reached Level 32. As a Drakling blessed by a divine power, you have 7 attribute points to allocate and have gained +2 to Might & Toughness. If not allocated by the time you fall asleep, it will be done automatically.

+2 Divine Favour, for growing in strength.

Krvavy’s teeth clack back together. She just barely gets a glimpse of her lingering flames, melting through magical ice and eating away at that short bridge, before she ducks through a thick brick doorway and seals off that sight with a wall of stone.

A puff of smoke passes through her pale lips as she stifles a choked cough, throat as raw and as sore as it always is after using Blazing Breath. A few more notifications flit by the edge of her awareness, becoming even less frequent as her fires are put out, though not before a couple more men perish. It won’t be long until those knights follow her in here. And the little barrier she made won’t hold forever. So she needs to keep moving and –

Two soldiers stand just a few paces away from Krvavy, their eyes wide with shock.

For a brief moment... not a soul moves. Near perfect silence hangs in the air, the stifled sounds outside and further in are barely audible over these three beating hearts. But then one of those men raises his weapon. A poleaxe. The Drakling springs into action with hardly a thought.

738.21 Damage dealt to [Shocked Soldier One]

The thick, wedged edge of Krvavy’s oversized axe swings down at that man’s head faster than he can react, striking his helmet with a dull clang. That armour holds, the smoothly curved metal earning a dented scratch as it deflects her axe just a little to the left, hardly even reducing its momentum.

1,579.58 Damage dealt to [Shocked Soldier One]

Bones crunch beneath that devastating blow, collarbone and shoulder alike shattering as even the ribs below are broken. Quilted gambeson and the mail atop it do their job well enough, taking heavy damage yet still stopping that axe from biting into flesh and directly tasting blood. Not that that matters much.

This body goes limp and collapses, concussed by that hit to the head and dead before it meets the ground.

[Shocked Soldier One] has been slain!
+720 Experience

“Hnngh...!” The other soldier chokes as a large gauntleted hand grabs at his throat, metal claws digging into his linked coif and compressing his airway. His boots lift from the ground as he helplessly grasps at this barbarian’s armoured wrist. “Ghhk...!”

64.52 Damage dealt to [Shocked Soldier Two]

Chainmail rattles as that man’s back is slammed into the stone wall he had been standing in front of. Terror fills his light grey eyes, that expression of dread visible through his open-faced helmet.

“Where...! Is...! The...! Duke...!?”

“Gnkkhh...!” A finger points upwards, giving a loose answer that honestly should have been expected.

Critical Hit! 2,392.7 Damage dealt to [Shocked Soldier Two]

[Shocked Soldier Two] has been slain!
+690 Experience

That corpse is carelessly dropped to the ground, its helmeted head twisted at an unnatural angle.

Krvavy steps through another battered down door. She pulls the near-empty gourd from her loincloth belt, gulping down just a mouthful of her sweet berry’s nectar. That wonderfully regenerative drink soothes her sore throat and temps her to take another sip. She puts the stopper back in, returning that natural bottle back to her belt.

The rich scent of spilled blood fills the air. Puddles of that sticky, red liquid stain the stone floor, pooling in the grout between bricks. A few bodies lay scattered across this room, all wearing the two shades of blue that mark them as soldiers of Svaneti.

The Drakling hardly pays any attention to the way this room is furnished, no matter how well it is illuminated by the lanterns mounted on these whitewashed walls, soft white flames fed by mana and burning without heat or scent.

She strides forward, the quick beat of her heart sending pulses of power through her veins, those ribbons of red glowing softly beneath her pale white skin.

All around her, the crimson mess begins to bubble like the waters of a natural spring. Puddles become streams, flowing through the shallow channels between bricks, and even the drier patches regain their moisture, those beads of liquid life joining with the others as they are drawn towards the Drakling. Not a stain is left behind, not a drop wasted.

Krvavy doesn’t have time to use Transmute Blood on each and every body in here. But she still needs the mana that would give her. How lucky it is then that Sanguine Suffusion can instead bring the blood to her. And for just the low cost of a fifth of her natural regen. So only about five points of mana per hour.

The sounds of soldiers moving about, of mail rattling and of boots marching to and fro, can be heard from off to the right. Through at least one other room, its doors beaten open and broken down. But that is not where she needs to go. There are more bodies to the left, more soldiers of Svaneti who laid down their lives in hopes of protecting those who have taken shelter in that direction.

The Drakling follows the dead.

Mayhem fills a large hall lined with thick columns. Tables, flipped onto their sides to serve as cover, have been sliced clean through. Those breached defences lead toward the remains of another door. Through it stands a spiral staircase, which curves clockwise as it ascends upwards.

Krvavy takes those steps two at a time.

The crystalline spearhead that caps her Soulbound weapon points forwards as she climbs up and up and up, stepping over only a couple bodies and absorbing what blood she can along the way.

Cautiously, Krvavy exits that stairwell, the solid stone cold beneath her inhuman feet. Beyond a few raised steps rests the nicely tiled floor of... what appears to be a banquet hall or a ballroom...? Not as grand or as beautiful as the one in Rina’s estate, but...

A very large table rests in the center of this room, stretching almost all the way across it. Yet not a single chair rests beside it. All of those seem to have been dragged over to another staircase, which hugs a grand fireplace and leads to a balconied floor above, blocking it off completely. And since that rather **** barricade is completely intact...

The Duke is almost certainly somewhere on this floor.

Krvavy’s carnivorous teeth sink into the inside of her cheek as she advances, sticking close to the wall on her left, wary of anyone who may be watching from those balconies above. She does not want to be riddled with arrows or bolts. Not by those she is, in a way, here to save.

She passes by some smaller tables and slips through a door that has, once again, been cleanly sliced through. A worrying detail that hopefully says more about that wood being weak rather than anything to do with the strength of whoever has been chopping it apart.

Another corpse, clad in a quartered blue gambeson, lies in her path. The puddle of fresh blood surrounding that body shrinks as Krvavy steps over it.

A short hallway leads to another, slightly diagonal, one. To her left are some breached defences, but to her right... are more bodies and blood. She continues to follow this trail of ****.

Anxiety clings to Krvavy’s heart as she grows ever closer to this long awaited confrontation. Soon she’ll fight that damned Duke. Soon she will kill him. She has to kill him. She cannot die here. Not with three of her girls so close to this warzone, out here so far from home...

Krvavy steps around a corner, and stops in her tracks.

Ahead is another relatively large room. More bodies lie dead on the floor, their blood already creeping towards Krvavy. But more importantly...

There are three knights in there. One in heavy and dull armour, a rather jagged mace hanging from his belt, and two in shining silvery armour, their polished breastplates partially covered with silken icy blue tabards as they stand on either side of some double doors, halberds in hand.

The muffled sounds of fighting echo from beyond those doors.

“Halt!” Shouts that heavily armoured knight, his gauntleted hand already hefting up his flanged mace. “You will not disturb the Iron Duke!”

The Drakling’s eyes dart upwards. The ceiling above isn’t stone. Wooden support beams stretch from wall to wall. She grits her teeth and takes a deep breath, glaring at these last few obstacles in her path.

In an instant, her jaw spreads wide. Not to release flame or frost, but to let loose a bellowing roar imbued with ancient agony and magical might. “RRGHAAAAAAA!” That wave of sonic **** blasts into this dull knight, the air rippling as it reverberates around the room.

Thick plate rattles as that mace-wielding man is staggered, his armoured heel sliding back half a step.

Light gleams off this Drakling’s Soulbound weapon, its oversized axehead trailing behind the more reasonably proportioned hammer as it is swung in a wide horizontal arc, the entirety of the barbarian’s body being put into that attack.

1,678.59 Damage dealt to [Mace Knight]

Dull metal dents and caves into itself as the **** of an earthquake echoes through that heavy armour. Thin hairline fractures spread out from the impact point, a wispy aurora of purple-blue energy leaking from those fizzling fissures, as the enchantments within that metal shell do what they can to decrease the damage dealt to the meat contained within. And they do a decent job at that, considering how Requiem Roar just reduced this bulky bastard’s resistances by a not insignificant amount...

“Nhh...!” A light grunt accompanies the swing of a cruel mace, this knight taking advantage of the momentum **** upon him to drive his own weapon towards that Drakling.

-334.22 Health

The matte black metal covering Krvavy’s bicep bends beneath the **** of that strike, the luxuriously soft stoat fur that serves as padding hardly doing anything to stop her own enchanted armour from digging into the flesh it is meant to protect. Pain reverberates through that arm as her bones and her joints endure the **** of this mostly mundane attack.

The bark-like mirage of Oakflesh ripples across the barbarian’s body mere moments later, that defensive spell cast just a second too late.

A cold chill suddenly sweeps across the room.

-213.34 Health

Krvavy twists to the side, but isn’t quite fast enough to dodge the halberd swinging towards her, its ice-covered spike piercing into her lower back... so close to her spine. The armoured plates atop her tail clink against that weapon as it is wrenched free to the sound of shattering glass.

You have been inflicted with Sapping Hoarfrost. You will lose 0.5 Stamina per second as long as the ice embedded inside of you remains intact.

Even with the Drakling’s incredible resistance to Ice Magic... that single status effect, diminished as it may be, is already making it difficult for her to breath. A second will almost entirely wipe out Krvavy’s stamina regen. Another after that will put her in the red. And with everything that has happened today... all the running and hiking... the aggressive sex... the excessive smoke inhalation... the frequent fighting...

Krvavy can’t afford to let her stamina take a hit like that. Not with it already so strained.

Waves of heat roll through Krvavy’s very being, emanating from her pulsing core. The icicle embedded in her back begins to melt, albeit at a truly glacial pace as the magic within it battles against her own. More mana, more fiery heat, would help to speed that process up... But Krvavy doesn’t have the time to focus on such a task.

“Hhhh!” Air hisses through the barbarian’s bared teeth as she arcs her axe through the air, forcing two of these knights to dodge as she springs towards the third. Her gauntleted fingers slip from that Soulbound weapon’s shaft – leaving the entirety of its weight for her right hand to deal with – before clenching together into a fist that is swiftly swung up at an armoured chin.

A single step back is all it takes for that knight to dodge her incredibly telegraphed attack. Or at least it would have been, had that uppercut been more than a gesture meant to help guide her magic.

The stone tile between that knight’s feet suddenly surges upwards at the behest of her most frequently used spell, sculpted into a sharp spike of a stalagmite.

Critical Hit! 4,376.94 Damage dealt to [Left Halberd Knight]

That conical column of stone spears through mail and fabric, piercing flesh and breaking bone as it passes through crotch and midsection, lifting this knight off his feet. He barely has the chance to gurgle and **** on his own blood before that fist he so effortlessly dodged comes pounding down onto his helmeted head, bringing with it some more earthen magic.

2,867.29 Damage dealt to [Left Halberd Knight]

[Left Halberd Knight] has been slain!
+3,862.5 Experience

The icicle buried into this barbarian’s back begins to melt much faster, bloody water dripping from that wound, as the source of the magic within it is snuffed out.

“DEMON!”

-491.69 Health

The wedged edge of a heavy, flanged mace crashes into the upper half of Krvavy’s breastplate, denting it enough to make even the ribs beneath it yield, almost to the point of those bones cracking. A bulky fist follows up that attack, ducking beneath her raised guard and aimed towards her bare belly.

-96.77 Health

“Nnghh...!” Physical **** rumbles through her muscled midsection, the organs within not exactly enjoying that brief flash of pressure.

“Back! Begone!” A tinge of desperation underlines those shouted words, the other halberd-wielding knight lunging forwards to strike at this bestial barbarian. His well-made weapon cuts through the increasingly chilly air with an audible hiss, its polished axehead shining in the soft light of those wall-mounted mana lanterns.

The Drakling tries to dodge that attack... but the bulky bastard who has so thoroughly invaded her personal space grabs onto her, keeping Krvavy from doing much more than twisting her torso to the side. Which isn’t quite enough.

-194.46 Health

Metal coated in a layer of magical ice chops through the skin and scales just above her bicep, cleaving through muscle and digging deep into bone. A fading runic line flares up as it is just barely nicked. Blood gushes from that new wound, only to be quickly reabsorbed and fed back into Krvavy’s slowly dwindling Health.

“Ngh!” Discomfort washes over the Drakling as she shrugs off that halberd – though it would have been pulled free regardless – and immediately drives her knee into the heavily armoured knight who insists on grappling with her.

1,348.66 Damage dealt to [Mace Knight]

More lines of fizzling light spread across that annoying man’s armour as the Seismic Stomp channelled through that strike hardly does even half the damage it should have. Neither does it **** this clingy bastard back.

Burning rage blossoms at the back of this barbarian’s brain. A sharp spike of pain stabs through her very being as a heavy gauntlet grabs onto her right wrist and gives her wounded arm a violent tug. It isn’t enough to cause damage nor widen her wound, not even with the weight of her sizable Soulbound weapon working against her, but it still hurts like hell.

Driven more by instinct than intention, the Drakling slams her head down towards that bulky knight, aiming to crack his skull and brutally bludgeon him to ****.

But he dodges that attack, leaning backwards and letting his scuffed breastplate take the blow. Which, much like it was for the nearby corpse skewered on a stone stake, turns out to be a mistake. Albeit for different reasons.

143.85 Damage dealt to [Mace Knight]

One of Krvavy’s upper horns slips through a gap in her foes thick armour as she pushes forwards, jerking her head up in a violent nod. The muscles in her neck and back strain as she struggles to straighten up, the metal claws of her gauntlet scraping against a heavy pauldron as she keeps this knight from being lifted with that motion. In less than a second, all that resisted her strength suddenly gives.

Critical Hit! 2,197.3 Damage dealt to [Mace Knight]

That knight finally lets go of Krvavy, stumbling back as the visor of his enclosed helmet is torn off... alongside his jaw.

“Ghhhkhhnhkhk...!” And yet not even that is enough to stop this annoying obstacle. His armoured fist tightens around the haft of his mace as he staggers back towards the barbarian and –

1,539.12 Damage dealt to [Mace Knight]

The crystalline spearhead topping Krvavy’s Soulbound weapon stabs into that open wound, its jagged hexagonal shape slicing through a loose tongue and breaking through bone as it buries its sharp tip deep inside a brain.

[Mace Knight] has been slain!
+4,627.5 Experience

Level Up! You have reached Level 33. As a Drakling blessed by a divine power, you have 7 attribute points to allocate and have gained +2 to Might & Toughness. If not allocated by the time you fall asleep, it will be done automatically.

+2 Divine Favour, for growing in strength.

“Hh...!” Krvavy winces as her magic encourages the flesh of her right shoulder to knit itself back together, veins reconnecting and muscles weaving back into tough corded strands.

+80 Health

A rushing river of blood streams along the shaft of her Soulbound weapon, draining straight from her newest kill. More of that liquid life flows across the floor, gathering around this Drakling who stands amongst the dead.

“D-demon...!” The final surviving knight stammers as he takes a fearful step back... only to stumble over the corpse of a man who he – or at least those who he fought alongside – had slain, tripping and falling onto his armoured ass. “Don’t...!” He flinches as the desiccated corpse of his comrade is carelessly dropped to the ground. “I...! You...!” The tip of his outstretched halberd wobbles and trembles as he takes a deep breath and does what he can to recover his resolve. “You won’t...!”

Crimson flames burst from the dark metal heads of the barbarian’s Soulbound weapon. The long edge of that axe glows with molten fury, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake as it rapidly closes the distance between Drakling and knight, hardly giving that brave idiot the time to rise back onto his feet.

Critical Hit! 2,619.75 Damage dealt to [Right Halberd Knight]

That heavy slab of a weapon bites into a silvery breastplate, burning through the silk atop it and the padded wool beneath, that polished metal yielding beneath both the **** of that attack and the fiery heat it brings.

The Dragon’s blood-red flames quickly fade, as to not waste a drop of blood.

1,752.4 Damage dealt to [Right Halberd Knight]

“Ghhnn!” Ribs and bones break beneath the barbarian’s might, the knight’s back pressed flat against a solid stone wall. One of his gauntleted hands grabs at the axe getting **** ever deeper into his chest, while the other... pulls a dagger from his belt.

-456.13 Health

That thin, pointed blade shimmers with magic as it does what it is meant to do: piercing through armour and sinking deep into the flesh beneath. Though rather than plate or mail, that dagger finds itself buried just below a rib, marring some nice muscled abs and severing a dimming runic line.

1,487.23 Damage dealt to [Right Halberd Knight]

[Right Halberd Knight] has been slain!
+3,915 Experience

Krvavy grits her teeth and pulls that knife free from her gut. “Ngh...!” Knit Flesh is quickly put to use, repairing the physical damage done both inside and out. She leaves her axe buried in this knight’s chest as her hands hastily ransack the few pouches on his belt, searching for something she knows is there. And she finds it.

+500 Health

A small vial’s worth of pungent, pulpy liquid sloshes into Krvavy’s stomach, warmth spreading through her body as that murky potion restores less than a third of the health that she lost in this encounter. Her gaze turns towards the other two knight corpses. The jawless one has nothing but armour around its waist, no pouches or pockets to pilfer, but the one impaled on that sharp stalagmite...

+500 Health

You have been inflicted with Minor Alchemical Overdose. For the next 4 hours, all beneficial potions you ingest will be 50% less effective. Continued consumption of alchemical creations will lead to further complications.

The Drakling grimaces, and quickly downs the last sip of her sweet berry’s nectar. Even on the off chance that its restorative properties are reduced by this debuff... she’d much rather head into this final confrontation tasting that delicious drink instead of some disgusting medicine.

“Hnn...” A soft sigh passes through Krvavy’s parted lips as she wrenches her Soulbound weapon free from the corpse its axehead had been buried inside. Her body feels just a little heavier than usual. She isn’t exactly tired, but... she is close. The adrenaline still pumping through her veins helps to push the exhaustion back. For now.

Idly, her attention turns towards the notifications lingering just beyond her perception. Krvavy levelled up twice since entering this fortified keep. She has fourteen stat points to allocate. Immediately, ten go into Endurance and the rest... go into Toughness.

Enduring to the End II: Increases Endurance by 10%, further strengthens its effect on Total Stamina & Stamina Regeneration, and it now affects Health Regeneration. Associated attribute = Endurance.

The Drakling hardly spares that upgraded trait a glance. It isn’t anything special. Instead, she fishes a triangular keyglyph from her pocket and presses it into the second set of runes Inanna painted onto her those few days ago.

A tingle of discomfort washes over the barbarian’s body as the already active set suddenly flashes, what energy remained inside those lines suddenly rushing into the rest of the runes decorating her skin and scales. That rust-red paste begins to glow with a crimson light, shimmering beneath the bark-like mirage of her still active Oakflesh.

Krvavy rolls her slightly sore shoulders and steps towards the doorway that these knights died to protect. The faint clanging of metal against metal can be heard through that wall of solid wood, along with indistinct shouts. There is hardly any blood left in this room, the bodies drained and shrivelled to husks, but even if there was a whole lot more to absorb... this moment of reprieve has lasted long enough. Perhaps too long.

Anxiety and anticipation alike cling onto Krvavy’s heart as she raises her inhuman foot...