Rune Seeker

With the camp packed back up and everybody at full solar energy, the party moved to the door leading to trial three. Like before, the space between the doors shimmered, blurring everything beyond, and Seena took a step ahead of the group.

“This is the last trial, and even though we don’t know what’s waiting for us, Odi insists this will be the most difficult challenge we’ve faced since we entered the Forge of Ur’Thul. Whatever it is, I know we have what it takes to succeed. Let’s go.”

She then walked up to—and through—the shimmering veil without slowing.

“See, that was way more motivating,” Yanily said to Odi, following after Seena.

“I don’t see how it was different,” Odi replied quietly, but he walked ahead with Nivian and Wule through the doors.

“Do you know what she’s going to choose?” Seeyela said when it was just her and Hiral left.

“No, but I’ll help her however I can,” Hiral said. “She can’t get past the idea the Urn might help the undead Lizardmen. And that we don’t know if it would even save Fallen Reach. She’s considering the fates of two entire peoples, and that’s too big for one person.”

“Good. You may think less of me for shirking the decision onto her…”

“But you’re afraid you wouldn’t make the best choice in the moment. That your worry for Favela would overrule any logic you have now.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice at pretending to be okay, even when I’m not,” Hiral explained. “You have the same look on your face I did when I looked in a mirror. You know you could’ve just told her that, right?”

“Don’t you think it sounds better if she thinks I trust her, instead of not trusting myself?” Seeyela asked.

“It’s a lot of pressure,” Hiral said quietly.

“She can handle it. Even more so now, if you’re taking some of it.”

“Seena’s worried you’ll hate her if she makes the wrong choice,” Hiral said, neither of them moving their feet towards the doors.

“And she won’t let that stop her,” Seeyela said.

“No, she won’t,” Hiral agreed. “We should go before they start wondering where we are.”

“You won’t tell her, will you? About why I’m… forcing her to make the decision.”

“No—at least, not until after we’re out of the dungeon. Who knows? We may not even have to make a choice.” Then Hiral stalked ahead through the portal.

“We have to make a choice,” Seena said as soon as Hiral stepped through into another huge room.

“Wait, what?” he asked, quickly looking around.

The room was large, but not massive on the same scale the last three rooms had been. Maybe two hundred feet wall to wall, with no bridge over water—just a solid floor. Against the right wall stood a single Lizardman—er, Lizardwoman—statue, a hooked spear in one hand and a triangular shield in the other. Against the left wall stood dozens upon dozens of smaller statues. Lizardfolk of all ages and occupations, from a quick glance at them.

And there, at the front of the group, was Odi… in a cage.

That wasn’t even the strangest thing. In the center of the room, a bright column of light about ten feet wide illuminated an ornate pedestal. And on that pedestal was what could only be the Urn of Ur’Thul.

“What happened?” Hiral asked.

Seeyela passed through the door beside him, and the pair walked up to join the party near the pedestal.

“Oh, so you’re not going to help me get out either, huh?” Odi called from the side. “I’m sure there was something in the contract about this!”

“We didn’t get the contract!” Yanily called back. “So… uh… guys, why aren’t we helping Odi out?”

Seena waited until Hiral and her sister were close enough, then quietly said, “Looks like there is no third trial. Not sure if Odi was lying, or if this is something to do with the dungeon. Either way, here’s the Urn.”

“You’re sure it’s the real one?” Hiral asked.

“View it for yourself,” Seena said.

Hiral looked from Seena to the Urn, waiting the second needed to activate his View ability.

The Urn of Ur’Thul – Legendary Artifact – S-Rank

Bound within the Lost Forge of Ur’Thul for millennia, the Urn awaits its new master.

(Yes, this is the real one.)

“That last part is a little suspect,” Hiral said.

“Oh, I don’t disagree, but can’t you feel the power of it?” Seena said. “Just by standing close…”

And he could feel it. There was a pressure to the Urn, barely contained, like it was boiling over with unfathomable energy just waiting to burst out.

Hiral slowly raised his hand towards the artifact, thoughts of what he could do with that power dancing through his head. They could save Fallen Reach with this. And, more than that, what could it do for him personally? If he had the Urn, he could learn dozens—hundreds—of abilities. Things that could push him through levels and ranks as easily as walking down the street.

He could be the first S-Rank person on Fallen Reach in, well, in forever. He could prove all the people who’d doubted him wrong. The Shapers in the test, the kids who’d called him Everfail, even his mother. They’d all have to recognize his value if he had the Urn.

It didn’t have to be just him, either. He could spread the Urn’s power through the city. The world. What could the Enemy do against a force like that? It was so clear in his mind he could practically see it in front of his eyes. People lined up ahead of him, shuffling slightly as they waited for his instructions.

No, not just people—an army.

With him at its head. What could be better proof he’d transcended all the doubts the others had heaped on him?

This could be his destiny.

But, why did he want to lead an army? To prove his strength? To show he was better than everybody else? To crush everybody who doubted him? No… no, that wasn’t what he wanted. He was happy with Seena leading the party. Happy with having friends he could count on, not soldiers who followed his every command.

He didn’t need…

Yes, he did. Power, true power, came from standing over others. Following Seena’s lead would never get him what he craved, and the image of the army once again spread out before him. Thousands and thousands of troops stretching towards the horizon. An army to destroy his enemies. It could be his.

All he had to do was reach out and take it. One small gesture, and the image in front of him, the image so real he could…

So real?

Hiral blinked, and the scene faded like paint running in water down the drain.

“What… what was I…?” he started to ask, but he noticed the other five standing like he was, hands half-lifted towards the Urn of Ur’Thul. The same sense of bottled power leaked out of the artifact, but more than that, Hiral could feel strands of solar energy reaching out. The Urn wasn’t just an artifact; it was somehow almost sentient.

Just like the PIM, though this feels… sinister. Was this why we’ve been thinking about taking it this whole time? Has it been influencing us?

Another shake of his head, and Hiral forced his hand back down to his side, those strands of solar energy from the Urn visibly snapping as he pulled away. Even then, it tried to pull him back into the vision, whispers of glory and fate brushing past his ears. His arms stayed locked at his sides, and his legs wouldn’t move. Whatever the Urn was trying to do, it wasn’t done with him yet. Nor the rest of the party.

Even as he fought against the bonds holding him tight, the whispers grew more frequent. More eager.

… your destiny…

… power you crave…

… proof you’re better…

… no longer the Everfail…

“I’m not listening,” Hiral said, forcing his eyes shut, an image glowing inside his closed eyelids. The Rune of Energy? Had the rune helped snap him out of it? No, he could feel that wasn’t right. It had helped buffer the influence. Let him make his own decision without being sucked into the Urn’s narrative.

The others don’t have that shield.

With a thought, Hiral pushed solar power into his Rune of Energy, gently expanding a field of influence out. Like he’d done when examining the type of Yanily’s solar energy, he didn’t try to alter anything. Not really. No, all he focused on was exposing the energy around him. Showing the truth of it to anybody watching.

Hopefully the others aren’t so far gone they can actually see it.

With the field extended, Hiral risked opening his eyes again, and they widened involuntarily. Whips of dark solar energy lashed in the air, dozens of them, snapping against the Growers and wrapping around them. Looking down at himself, he saw thick ropes of the energy around his torso, his limbs, and he could even feel one squeezing tighter around his neck.

… take us…

… let us give you the world…

… destroy those who oppose us…

The whispers followed each thrashing whip, battering against Hiral’s senses on a deeper level than just sound.

“Still… not… listening…” he ground out between clenched teeth, pushing more power into his Rune of Energy to use it like a shield. Dark-tinted coils of writhing energy flinched as his field grew stronger, denser, and he saw eyes around him snap open.

Seena, first, blinked her eyes until she was back in the present, and then a snarl creased her face. Flames licked across her skin within Hiral’s Energy field, burning back the restraints around her, and she openly roared at the Urn, her whole body exploding in fiery solar energy.

Yanily followed a second later, his face calm, but lightning arcing from his body to the ground around him. An unfortunate black coil tried to reach him, only to be blasted into nothingness as it got too close. From there, Yanily’s solar energy seemed to go on the offensive, striking back out at the whipping energy—and at the Urn of Ur’Thul directly.

More tentacles of dark energy twisted away from the other Growers to defend the Urn from Yanily, but then, suddenly, a corona of even deeper darkness appeared on the other side of the Urn. Black like the absence of everything, the corona evolved into a swirling whirlpool in front of Seeyela, hauling strands of dark solar energy into it. Not just hauling—tearing.

Now, as if in full-on panic, the Urn slammed its tendrils of energy into the party, battering them with whispers and scenes of glory. Of despair. Of success and loss. The attacks came faster and faster, wearing down the party’s offensive, each of them doing everything they could to hold the Urn at bay. But they were losing ground.

What could four small people do against the power of an ancient, nation-building artifact?

No! That’s the Urn speaking. We can…

Another barrage of attacks beat Hiral to his knees, while others wrapped around Seena’s and Yanily’s necks despite the damage they took. Seeyela, they tried to ignore, moving away from the pull to focus on the other three.

Slam. A dark rope of solar energy like a chain hit Hiral’s head, sending black specks dancing across his vision as he struggled to stay conscious. He blinked hard and looked up at the Urn again—just in time to see the rope of energy lift for a second strike. It coiled in the air, building momentum, then snapped down towards his upturned face.

A hand appeared in front of Hiral, translucent and glowing, and snagged the falling tendril out of the air. At the same time, warm energy flowed into Hiral’s body, soothing his injuries and clearing his mind.

Hiral blinked once, twice, and looked around. Shimmering clouds of solar energy stood in front of each of the Growers, shielding them from the attacks of the Urn, while healing energy refreshed them. He forced himself back to his feet, the others doing the same thing, and then, as one, they screamed at the Urn.

It was a wordless, primal shout, laden with the full power of their solar energy. Hiral’s field of Energy filtered out the whispers and images. Fire raged from one side in an inferno, while an endless storm of thunder and lightning crushed in from the other side. Glowing guardians protected the party from the worst of the counterattacks, and those that snuck through were quickly healed by the constant stream of refreshing energy. The sphere of absolute nothingness lifted into the air and floated directly above the Urn.

Then it dropped straight down, and everything just… stopped.

The dark tendrils vanished with a soft pop, the party’s onslaught faded from exhaustion, and everybody dropped straight down to the ground, though eyes rose to the center of the circle.

There, on top of the pedestal, the Urn of Ur’Thul sat completely undamaged. Undamaged… but dormant. They’d overcome its attempt to influence them… for now.

“I think… I think that makes our decision for us,” Seena said, her voice raspy and weak.

“Hrm, I’m not sure what just happened,” Odi said, somehow free of the cage and quick-stepping nimbly in between the kneeling Growers, “but it looks like the Urn is up for grabs. Ah, and there’s the door too. I hope you don’t mind if I make my exit early.” Then the Lizardman lifted the Urn off the pedestal.

“Odi… you can’t. I don’t know what you think the Urn is…” Hiral forced the words out, trying to stand, but he just didn’t have the strength. Left and Right? Where are you?

“Maybe, maybe not,” Odi said, a hint of hesitance in his voice. “But, when you only have one choice, you really have no choice at all. My people need this. Thank you for your help. I do hope we meet again someday, and that you don’t hate me when we do.”

With that, the Lizardman took the Urn under his arm, then jogged across the room to another doorway Hiral hadn’t noticed before. The same familiar blur hung within it, and Odi stopped before passing through.

Turning back to the party, he raised a hand in farewell. “You’ve saved my people. Thank you.” Then he was gone through the portal.