Chapter 11: The arch

The journey for the first day was rather uneventful, that was until the evening. As they both settled in for the night Solveig showed him the beginning forms for how a spellsword should fight. Dexterity and accuracy of the strike over speed and speed over strength. Especially with a blade like the one in his hand, a literal obsidian blade. It was sharp enough that **** wasn’t needed. The Spellswords fighting style reminded him more of the dancing lessons he had when he was a kid than any of the karate classes. These lessons were not difficult drills meant to be a crash course but instead the fundamentals. He was an unkillable mage and she was a veterian warrior. What little skill he could learn with a blade in a couple of nights would make little difference in the fight to come.

Later as they laid down together, Samar as the pillow and solveig as the blanket they talked strategy. Solveig moved her head back so it was leaning on his shoulder “Most Uman warriors used metal weapons and armor. You throwing bolt after bolt would be the most useful. Even if the bolts you are throwing only hurt, it will disrupt whatever formation they have and also stun whoever gets directly struck.” her hips started to rock back and forth over his rapidly hardening member. “I will handle the direct combate, my stone skin will protect me from direct impacts and penetration.” she gasped that last word as his dick kissed her rosebud.

***

The next couple of days went by somewhat similarly. This time, driven by horny urgency and an increased endurance they managed to shave off a day getting there. On the night before they would arrive, as they were preparing dinner Solveig asked "Samar, what level have you reached in swordplay?"

"How would I check that."

She palmed her face, then sighed "love, it's a literal pop up."

Ahh that made sense. "In the world I come from we don't have such things, I think I just subconsciously minimized it all." With a thought he summoned it.

[217 unread messages]

He focused, trying to think of a way to summarize it all.

Lvl 8 in Vivimancy magic

Lvl 7 in Lightning magic

Lvl 6 in swordplay: a general swordsmanship skill, precursor to specialized sword skills

Lvl 3 in Sex: act of procreation and blowing peoples mines. Some say sex is fun and that everyone should try it. While according to some Mean Girls, it is a very dangerous thing to do.

Lvl 6 in foreplay: teasing, pleasing, all without a penis.

Lvl 4 in Dom play: Sex play of making others submit

Lvl 3 in Sub play: Sex play of submiting to others.

See more?

He mentally selected no.

Samar looked up from his notification screen "Hmm, level 6 in swordplay. It used to be general close quarters." Solveig nodded "that change makes sense, you have mentally moved towards the spellsword style. The blade you have, I'm willing to bet is far better than any of your contemporaries."

Samar gave her a questioning look.

Solveig thought for a moment "let me explain it like this; in a normal tribe of a thousand there would be three hundred warriors and reserve fighters. These will range on average from level 11 to the elite being level 25. In the example tribe you might also have several level 30s these are those that have gained their prestige class. There may be three of them; their commander, sorcerer and let's say their folk hero or adventurer." She paused for a long moment, seeming to think about how she wanted to say it. "Among the gargoyles a newborn starts at level 15, most adults are over level 30. I am myself level 23.”

Samar processed that “good to know, what does that have to do with my sword?”

“So people use weapons on par with their power. Humans normally use unenchanted steel weapons. While your kind learn faster than other races, there are a lot of you and you are also short lived. The weapon that you have is more than an enchanted weapon, draw it.” Samar did so.

“Now your шок-ing stick is the perfect comparison. That weapon had several magic charges that could be used per a set time frame.” she drew out her own obsidian sword, cracks began to grow along its length magma dripped like blood from the blade “these blades are made with fire sprites, sentient spirits. There is a will within your blade, mistreate it and it will resist.”

“You’ve locked a person in here?” she shook her head “Sentient not Sapient, think of it more like a wolf and not a person. It can feel but not think. Think of the weapons power in terms of scale, your old club had limited uses, whereas this one is not limited.” she swung the sword and a wave of superheated gas rushed out like a wave of fire. “In terms of power these weapons range from epic, to a well fed one will serve you well even in the heroic ranks.” She explained.

“Well fed, so the weapon levels with me.” she nodded. Samar was silent for a time as he palmed his obsidian sword. Night closed in and Samar wrapped his arms around Solveig. In his dreams he died over and over again, hoards of knights

***

The morning was a quiet one. There was no banter between them, both knew that today they would either be killing or be killed. Food was passed out and they moved out. By noon they found the lake and as they got close they soon found the lab. It might have been difficult to find if Sacar hadn’t gone into such detail on how exactly to find it. Nestled in a large rock outcropping, it was nicely hidden away even with its camouflage yet it still had a view of the surrounding lake.

As the pair approached Samar suddenly was struck with the feeling that he was being watched, raising his hand the pair stopped. The realization dawned on him, it was quiet. As soon as he realized that, the silence of the lake became deafening. Both of them looking around Solveig spotted it first.

Slowly, stealthily a viscous mass began approaching from the lake. Solveig reached into her *Satchel of holding* and pulled out the lacrosse stick. The slime paused, as it settled in it became nearly invisible in the lake. Solveig strode towards the water as if unaware and into range. Samar watching it from the corner of his eye prepared a bolt of lightning just in case.

The slime lept, and Solveig reacted in a blur of speed. Ignoring the acidic slime splashing over her, her net flashed out. The slime's body flowed through the net like a viscous sludge, the core however did not. Stabbing just under the slimes core she scooped upwards and flung it. Its core gone, the slime lost its form and melted into the water. The pair of them shared a nod, the unspoken relief that the lacrosse stick actually worked.

The silence made a lot more sense, the animals in the region must have either left or died out. If the slimes were in the lake they probably had already eaten most if not all the fish. Combine that with anything coming to the lake to drink would be ambushed. It would be a long time before life came back to these lands.

Moving to the lab from across the valley they came to its entrance. An archway cut into the side of the mountain. Two pillars with an arch connecting the two, a pair of trees wrapped around them with fine elven script running along the overhead arch. If he had thought this was still a game there would be some lawyers very interested in copyright infringement.

Solveig moved up, sniffed, then fell back “the enchantment on this is too strong to be broken quietly.”

Samar laughed “if I had any doubts that my rival here was from home, they are gone now.” Solveig cocked her head to the side, giving him a questioning look.

“It's written in elvish.” Samar explained.

Solveig shook her head “I’ve seen elvish, it's not this...scribbly”

In his best McKellan’s voice “It reads; Doors of Durnin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter” he chucked to himself at the terrible rendition the continued “Lemon” nothing happened “wait, shit, ahhh” his face burned in embracement “Mellon” a line appeared and the wall folded into an open archway.

Solveig gave him an incredulous look “I thought you didn’t.” she stopped and shook her head. “Shall we.” Samar gave her a genteal bow and she rolled her eyes.

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again, eyes bright with fire and fury. She drew out her weapons, the straight sword and war axe. She looked less like his lover and more like a snorting bull at this point, while physically she hadn’t changed too much other than her finger tips grew to claws. It was her presence, her personality that had the largest change.

Samar moved forward and pressed his hand on her shoulder, the look she turned to him was almost feral, and for a moment he saw she didn’t recognize him. The moment passed as he held her gaze at “Solveig” he could see her fire die down. “aye" she started but her response died as a pair of plate armored guards came clattering down the hallway. “Shit Intruders!”

With a snarl Solveig rushed them, ducked under a sword blow she slammed the axe head into his knee cap. She twisted and thrust up and under the chin of the guards helm. She drew it out then thrust into the drowned man. She glared as Samar “we will speak of this afterwards.”

Silently they moved down the hall were the sounds of dozens of men in the distance clambering. They turned the corner to see maybe twenty men, in various stages of dress.

Samar channelled two bolts of lightning, he unleashed the first just as Solveig closed. Then she was among them, a duck and she chopped the first man's leg. The second knight's warhammer swung and her blade flashed out, pairing the hammer. The joined weapons arced a half circle before the sword flicked free and like a lover licked his neck.

A step forward and the axe head slammed into a thirds neck. Her right leg kicked out, caving a fourth’s face in, her sword bit into a fifths leg while her axe found a sixth. A hammer swung at her back but Samar was waiting, the second bolt flew and the heavily armored man tensed, Solveig turned and finished him with her axe. Samar fired off two more bolts keeping the pressure on her down.

One knight took notice of him. Rather than fight the blur of **** he rushed Samar. It felt as if time slowed as Samar watched the knight lunge at him, long sword in hand. A dozen things flashed through his mind, to doge, to draw and block. Only one he saw would let a level 3 wizard beat a level whatever knight. He took the sword into his gut, clamped both hands on the knights head “шок.”

The acrid smell of burnt hair seemed to overpower even the pain in his chest as the knight collapsed. He saw from the sword sticking out of his lung, his health bar trickle down. Before he could do anything he saw Solveig get struck in the leg by a hammer. Concentrating Samar fired a bolt at another about to harm her, then another and another.

All at once there were no knights standing. Solveig turned to him the look in her eyes flared with anger from pain. Her eyes fell to the sword jutting from his chest. In a moment she was at his side fussing over his wound. The cork popped off one of his healing potions. As she poured it down his throat the cherry taste turned to warmth as a pleasant tingle overcame the pain radiating from his chest.

Ripping cloth brought is attention back to Solveig, she’d just torn off two large strips of cloth from her tabard dress. Placing one on top of his chest she held the other under him.

“This is going to hurt.” she warned.

“More than being stabbed in the chest” Samar chroaked?

A pained expression twisted her face, then like ripping off a bandage she pulled free the sword. Pain exploded in his chest, it was in fact worse than being stabbed in the chest. Solveig moved quickly, tossing aside the sword she pressed the two bandages to both sides of his wound. The cherry warmth flooded the wounded area. After a minute, he casted healing hands on himself a couple times. Looking at Solveig's leg he healed that as well.

Samar staggered to his feet, he toppled and Solveig caught him. As he straightened he saw a pop up.

"Debuff - mortally wounded {healed}, over next 24 hours **listed effects* - *expand?*

“Debuff - Moderate blood loses, will recover roughly 21 hours **Listed effects* - *expand?*

“Lvl 7”

About seven other pop ups tried to take his attention but he willed them away. With a wheeze “shall we?” Solveig gave him a worried look but nodded.

They moved down the cut stone hallways and came to a heavy pair of wooden doors. These doors had an entirely different feel than the rest of the structure so far. As they pushed open the doors and found themselves in a cluttered mess of a laboratory. Vials and decanters were everywhere, a magic kilm boiled some liquid into a distiller. Several large glass containers held a number of slimes, instead of the watery blue ones before, these were a rich aquamarine, there may have been a dozen of them in here.

Samar looking into one, the viscous creature shifted and he could tell it was looking at him, somehow. He placed his hand on the tank and could almost feel a psychic connection to what was within. He felt sadness for it, to be created for such a purpose, made to destroy. The irony of being created to destroy something that was created to destroy tasted bitter on his tongue.

Solveig moved up beside him, looking at her, her hard eyes, beautiful face, her strength of will. He could feel the love blooming in his heart, another creation, made to destroy. she had been able to move beyond her original purpose. “Beloved” Solveig looked at him, she nodded. They moved on, not seeing the face that formed in the tank.

At the far end of the lab was a smaller set of doors. Still large enough for industrial use of moving contains, but these were more homely. Samar cast one last spell of healing, the mortally wounded debuff was reduced, he wasn’t at 100% however he wouldn’t be slowed down. They approached the wooden doors, mentally readying themselves for the mad scientist within.