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BOOK OF THE DEAD - Chapter 21

Published at 2nd of February 2024 05:24:39 AM


Chapter 21: Satisfaction

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Chapter 21: Satisfaction

Events:

Your attempts at Stealth have increased proficiency. Sneak has reached level 3.

Concentration has increase proficiency. Concentration has reached level 4.

You have performed a successful cast on the first attempt. Pierce the Veil has increased proficiency. Pierce the Veil has reached level 3.

You have continued to please your patrons. The Dark Ones revel in the chaos you stir. The Court delight in your madness. The Abyss is pleased with the taste of your mind. Anathema has achieved level 4. You have received +2 Intelligence, +2 Constitution and +2 Willpower. New choices available.

Name: Tyron Steelhand.

Age: 18

Race: Human (Level 10)

Class:

Necromancer (Level 4).

Sub-Classes:

Anathema (Level 4).NoneNone

Racial Feats:

Level 5: Steady Hand.

Level 10: Night Owl.

Attributes:

Strength:

12

Dexterity:

11

Constitution:

22

Intelligence:

28

Wisdom:

18

Willpower:

26

Charisma:

13

Manipulation:

11

Poise:

13

General Skills:

Arithmetic (Level 5)

Handwriting (Level 4)

Concentration (Level 4)

Cooking (Level 1)

Sling (Level 3)

Swordsmanship (Level 1)

Sneak (Level 3)

Butchery (Level 1)

Skill Selections Available: 1

Necromancer Skills:

Corpse Appraisal (Level 1)

Corpse Preparation (Level 1)

Death Magick (Level 1)

Across the room the lad leaned over the grindstone, focused on his work, aye, but even so the Butcher could tell that he kept sneaking the odd glance at him as he worked, trying to pick up the tricks of the trade through observation alone. He tried to contain a snort and kept working. If it were possible to learn by just watching then the kid would be the one to do it. He was smart as a whip and never made the same mistake twice, something that the old man appreciated since he hated having to explain himself more than once. He had a bright future ahead of him that lad, or at least he would have had.

Once again he felt his heart sink a little in his chest as he contemplated what lay in store for young Lukas. Too many young ones went down that road, and so few came back.

He shook his head. It wasn't any of his business. Tyron wouldn't be the first to try and learn his skills only to go and get himself killed in the broken lands and he sure as hell wouldn't be the last. Being young and a false sense of invincibility went hand in hand after all. It wasn't like Hak couldn't remember feeling the same as a youth. It was just such a damn waste.

He drew back his hand for another clean slice only to be interrupted by a powerful knock on the front door. Interrupted mid-swing, he threw down the knife with a muttered curse and stomped out of the work area and into the front of the store. Madeleine wasn't in today, busy helping her mother so he was forced to man the desk himself, something he hated doing. Despite his best efforts, he could never manage to hold onto decent staff for long. Apparently he was 'difficult to work with', whatever that meant! Barely trying to keep the irritation off his face he yanked open the door to see a young man dressed in spattered and filthy armour on the other side.

"What?" he growled.

The slayer flashed a quick and easy smile despite the clear signs of weariness and fatigue around his eyes. Clearly he'd been out on the rifts for some time.

"Got sumfin' for me?" he rumbled to the man stood waiting outside.

"Hey there Hakoth. Remember me? I'm Tillan, the Shieldguard."

Hak grunted and peered at him for a moment.

"Two months ago? Big armour bug?"

Tillan grinned.

"That was us. Got another one for you if you're interested. A runner this time."

Hak raised a brow.

"Pay?"

The Shield guard's smile slipped a little.

"Same as before?" he offered.

The Butcher grunted and turned to walk back through the door.

"Bring to tha back door," he called over his shoulder.

"Already done!" came the cheerful reply.

When he opened up the double doors at the back of his shop, sure enough he found the rest of the Slayer team who he vaguely recalled, with their kill on a sled. It looked fresh, which meant they likely came across it on the way back. He took a deep breath through his nose and felt the tell-tale sting of magick burn his skin. Even the kid could sense it, Hak could see his head jerk up from the corner of his eye. The 'runner' they'd brought was a nasty critter from Nagrythyn, weighed over a ton but was quick as the wind. The two bladed arms at the front were sharp enough to slice through a fully armoured man with enough force left over for the man next to him.

"How long?" he asked.

"No rush on it," the lady who no doubt had pulled the sled, judging by the size of her, said. "We won't be out again for a week most likely."

"'Aight," he rumbled.

Ignoring the slayers, he stepped forward to grip the reins at the front of the sled and with a monumental effort he slowly pulled it into the shop. Used to his attitude, the weary fighters brushed it off and headed back to the keep with a wave. After he'd positioned the monster, Hak closed the double doors and locked them before he turned back and sized up the beast once more. It was a big one, not as large as the critter he'd done last time, but that had been a different variety entirely. This one was a killer, no doubt about it.

As he slowly stepped around the creature he could see the kid was fascinated with it, though he tried to keep his head down and at his task he kept sneaking little glances at it when he thought he wouldn't be noticed.

For a long moment the Butcher pondered until finally he let out a long and weary sigh.

"Come on then lad. Git here," he rumbled and waved him over.

Confusion flickered over the face of the boy before he carefully placed down the knife he'd been working on and stepped away from the grindstone.

"Yer daft enough to go an' git killed tryin' ta fight sumfin' like this?" he gestured to the horrific killing machine on the sled in front of them. "Yer a hard worker, an' smart too. Way too smart ta waste on runnin' errands for slayers. You sure you wanna do this?"

The lads brows rose as the Butcher unexpectedly tried to talk him out of his course of action, but there was never any hesitation in his eyes. Without bothering to defend his decision, he simply nodded.

"I'm sure," he said.

Hak was surprised to feel a slight pang in his chest at those words, but he quickly shook it off. He must be getting soft in his old age.

"'Aight then. Time you learn sumfin' about it then."

The kid hesitated.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "This soon?"

Hakoth stared at him.

"Ya want me ta work you harder first?" he drawled.

The boy came to his senses and shook his head emphatically which pulled a chuckle from the old butcher.

"Then let's see here. What sorta monster we got here then?"

"Warrior caste cutter. Often referred to as a 'runner' due to their speed. Fastest monster out of Nagrythyn," the lad rattled off.

Taken aback, Hakoth peered at the kid for a moment.

"'Kay, Lukas. If yer so smart, what do ya think is the valuable parts o' this 'ere beastie?"

"I have no idea," Tyron shrugged.

"Guess."

"Probably the blade arms, they look useful. Some of this chitin might be good, looks like the sled might be armoured with something similar. The core obviously, but I'm not sure where it might be. If any of the organs are useful for alchemy or anything, I don't know, though I suppose they would be."

"Aye," the Butcher nodded. "The tendons in the legs are good, strong and flexible, use 'em fer bows n' such. The chitin here, here and here is a good shape for a chest plate. Dependin' on size the sections here can make thigh n' arm guards. We'll get to organs tomorrow. Bring me the cleaver you was workin' on and I'll show you how ta get started on these critters."

Filled with enthusiasm Lukas, jumped to obey whilst Hakoth just felt old and tired. Another young one set on running to the rifts who likely wouldn't make it back. Too many heard of the broken lands and all they could think of was the glory, the money, the levels and power. The Butcher had been around long enough that all he associated with the broken lands was death. No place for a young man two weeks from his awakening. If he lived long enough, hopefully Lukas would learn the error of his ways. When you see enough dead bodies, people usually worked it out.




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