By the time that I reached the host-hive, my Coreless had already turned it into a mangled mess that looked closer to a slurry of meat and fluid than an actual living creature. Despite that, it still lived. For all that it was a helpless, disgusting creature without the flying bad-things inside it to provide it shape enough to move properly, it was resilient. That, I had to admit.
I bit down into its flesh, trying my best to ignore the way that it squelched and swirled around my fangs, and released some of my venom. It wouldn’t do much, but I still had plenty left - and I had never quite figured out whether the amount I contributed had an effect on the experience that I received when a bad-thing died. The thought-light wasn’t clear on that.
Regardless of whether it had an effect on my reward, part of me was glad to put forth the effort to finish off the thing.
When it finally died, the thought-light flickered.
Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.
Level Up!
1 Trait Point Gained.
As the thought-light disappeared again, I caught a faint thought-hiss from Tiamat, shorn away and weakened as if its bulk had been scraped away in the journey through the tiny wall-cracks of my mind-nest.
[INSTRUCTION]
It was easy to push Tiamat’s urgings to the side; with how weak her thought-hisses had become in the face of my mind-nest, it only required the smallest degree of my willpower. A little bit of indignation. A little bit of annoyance.
And then it was gone, leaving me in the gentle quiet of my mind-nest again, [Chains of the Creator] no stronger than it had been before. Still, I knew that the distance between us was a large part of my success in deflecting her thought-hisses; she was somewhere deep within the World Dungeon, possibly near its very center, while I was at the outer edges.
Still, I doubted that she would come for me herself. From what I had seen in the vision that revealed her name, Tiamat’s Core was probably still around. She would be near it, ensuring that it wasn’t lost. No, the only worry would be her minions for now, and I had my own to protect me.
Better ones, I’d have liked to think, though I would need to gain more. I coiled upon myself, biting down on my tail to activate [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail]. My throat-flesh began to itch as the damage caused by [Sound Shaping] started to come undone. In the meantime, I took a moment to focus on the occasional [Little Guardian’s Totem], checking up on my Coreless, gauging their emotions and looking through their eyes.
To my relief, the Coreless of the many-nest were still doing fine. I found many of them gathered around the [Little Guardian’s Focus], basking in the warmth and strength that it provided, along with a strong taste of [contentment].
Further outward, I found a cluster on the move, traveling towards the second smaller cluster that I knew was a different many-nest. Most of the traveling Totems did not have bearers, though a few did - enough to let me check on their progress. After a brief few moments, I decided that they, too, were doing fine.
They tasted of [eagerness] and [greed]. I was both eager and greedy for new converts as well, so I could understand that.
A nearby sound pulled me away from thoughts of my Coreless’ circumstances - and back towards my other Coreless. The broken remains of many flying bad-things were piled before me, a hill of shattered carapace and twisted flesh. Another corpse flew, carried not by wings, but by pure force. It smacked against the growing mound of its brethren, broken sections of its carapace cracking and shattering under the strain of the landing.
If I hadn’t burned most of the flying bad-things to ash, the mound would have expanded further, but the Coreless soon ran out of relatively intact bad-things.
Afterwards, they just stared at me, [confusion] apparent in their furrowed brows and ever-present Totems.
“Do you think...he’s full or something?” the newest Coreless asked, leaning slightly on his weapon as he drew in great breaths. One hand raised to his brow, and he wiped at the glistening liquid that had gathered there.
“Do you really think that he can get full? I mean, you saw when he ate those Hexablades a while ago. I’m pretty sure the little guy can put away almost anything as long as he can get his mouth around it,” the-female-who-was-not-Needle replied.
“Why isn’t he eating it, then?” he asked, rubbing absently at his cheek.
As the Coreless made noises at one another, I took a moment to think. Although I couldn’t be sure of it, there was a high chance that any bad-thing created by Tiamat would go towards increasing [Chains of the Creator]. I didn’t know for sure, though, and the idea of leaving potential helpful Traits behind caused a twisting in my scale-flesh.
I wanted to become stronger. I needed to become stronger - but I didn’t want Tiamat’s hold on me to grow any more than it already had. If [Chains of the Creator] grew too powerful, even my faith in the Great Core might not be enough to keep me, me rather than one of Tiamat’s thralls.
Still, I figured that I could at least check. The thought-light would be able to confirm if I was correct, and one corpse devoured was far from enough to increase [Chains of the Creator].
Fighting the urge to regurgitate my empty stomach, I slowly dragged one of the corpses from the pile in bits and pieces - one of the more damaged remains, so that I could fit it down my throat a little easier.
Then, trying my best to ignore the sensation of the disgusting thing traveling down my throat, I devoured the pieces.
The thought-light flickered, showing me the truth.
Level 4 Blood of Tiamat Consumed.
Transferred to Core.
Blooded Trait Acquisition Progress: 1/10.
I hissed in frustration, wanting nothing more than to rinse out Tiamat’s filth from my mouth-flesh. Instead, I settled for using the last of my mana on the mound of bad-things. A gout of [Mana Fire] ripped from my jaws, scouring my mouth-flesh free of the vile filth as it exited. It coated the remains, the brilliant blue flames bouncing from wing to wing, setting the whole pile alight with wondrous ease.
I let myself bask in its warmth for a moment, trying to pull free from the irritation of what the thought-light had revealed.
As I had suspected - though not what I had hoped - the flying bad-things were just another form of the Blood of Tiamat. The second Blood, yet just another one of many. Memories of my vision of Tiamat, as well as the repulsive thoughts that it had infected me with, flashed in my head again.
I saw the massive bad-thing lift a claw against its own scale-flesh. I saw drops of blood fall from where it sliced. I saw the blood shift. I saw a wave of new bad-things form from the drops. Their flesh was twisted and repuls - the line of thought shattered. I watched the blood shift again, birthing brothers and sisters of beautiful, twisted flesh and varied forms.
The flying bad-things hadn’t been one of the forms that I had seen, which meant the danger posed by Tiamat was even greater than I had first thought. My vision had shown me many of the bad-things that she could create, but now I knew that she could make many more. For all I knew, she would be able to slowly adjust the shapes of the bad-things that she sent against me, fine-tuning them to be more effective against us. Still, I could feel the distance between us. She was far away, and any new bad-things she created would be equally far. For a time, I would only have to deal with bad-things that were already nearby.
It would only be later that we would encounter others.
In the end, despite the worry that it gave me, it wasn’t Tiamat’s ability to shape bad-things that would be more difficult to fight that was the problem.
Instead, the problem was something that I only now realized.
The flesh-twisted bad-things hadn’t worried me as much, with their size. It would be a rare bad-thing that could swallow hordes of them whole. The host-hive and the bad-things that it carried were different, though.
The host-hive was home to an overwhelming number of Blood of Tiamat. Bad-things that, though small in size, could all cause an Ascended to receive [Chains of the Creator]. And that was the problem. I was small, only able to eat a single one of the disgusting things at a time - and even then with relative difficulty.
Something larger could have eaten the entire hive at once, growing the power of [Chains of the Creator] to an irresistible level before it even had a chance to react.
It wouldn’t just be the bad-things formed from Tiamat's blood that came after me and my Coreless. Ascended would be coming some day.
I just hoped it wouldn’t be any day soon.
Zendran
SHOUTOUT:
Allanther, friend and author of the popular Wizard's Tower on RR, has published his first book: An Old Man's Journey
For those of you who have KU, please consider checking it out.
Synopsis:
At the end of his life, Charles was left with one question: What was it all for?
After his tour of duty and an unremarkable post-Army business career, Charles spent his twilight years watching old movies and waiting for his grandkids to call. He'd lived a good life, been a decent man, but now that his wife was gone he was... Lonely.
Until his old friend Bert introduced him to Crossroads, the new VR sensation. In this virtual world he can move without pain, explore new lands, and most importantly - see his family again. For as long as he can hold their interest, in this fast-paced modern world of instant gratification and VR thrills.
The solution: Build a place his family wants to visit. Armed only with a magic stick with game-breaking powers that should be nerfed, Charles sets out on a journey to find a place to call his own. Along the way, he will be mistaken for an NPC quest giver, become the antagonist in epic questlines, and attempt to teach the next generation proper behavior - even if he has to beat it into them.
This is the story of one man's search for belonging in his second virtual life. A search for a place to belong, and what it takes to get there. It's also a hilarious romp through online fantasy cliches that will appeal to fans of Ready Player One, The Wandering Inn, and slice-of-life comedies.
Because at the end of a man's life: What's more important than family?
An Old Man's Journey
Discord
(Make sure to select a role to view the server's channels)
Patreon to read 30 chapters ahead - As the beginning of the month, now is the best time to pledge to patreon!
By the time that I reached the host-hive, my Coreless had already turned it into a mangled mess that looked closer to a slurry of meat and fluid than an actual living creature. Despite that, it still lived. For all that it was a helpless, disgusting creature without the flying bad-things inside it to provide it shape enough to move properly, it was resilient. That, I had to admit.
I bit down into its flesh, trying my best to ignore the way that it squelched and swirled around my fangs, and released some of my venom. It wouldn’t do much, but I still had plenty left - and I had never quite figured out whether the amount I contributed had an effect on the experience that I received when a bad-thing died. The thought-light wasn’t clear on that.
Regardless of whether it had an effect on my reward, part of me was glad to put forth the effort to finish off the thing.
When it finally died, the thought-light flickered.
Experience Gained! Reduced Due To Assistance Received.
Level Up!
1 Trait Point Gained.
As the thought-light disappeared again, I caught a faint thought-hiss from Tiamat, shorn away and weakened as if its bulk had been scraped away in the journey through the tiny wall-cracks of my mind-nest.
[INSTRUCTION]
It was easy to push Tiamat’s urgings to the side; with how weak her thought-hisses had become in the face of my mind-nest, it only required the smallest degree of my willpower. A little bit of indignation. A little bit of annoyance.
And then it was gone, leaving me in the gentle quiet of my mind-nest again, [Chains of the Creator] no stronger than it had been before. Still, I knew that the distance between us was a large part of my success in deflecting her thought-hisses; she was somewhere deep within the World Dungeon, possibly near its very center, while I was at the outer edges.
Still, I doubted that she would come for me herself. From what I had seen in the vision that revealed her name, Tiamat’s Core was probably still around. She would be near it, ensuring that it wasn’t lost. No, the only worry would be her minions for now, and I had my own to protect me.
Better ones, I’d have liked to think, though I would need to gain more. I coiled upon myself, biting down on my tail to activate [The Snake That Eats Its Own Tail]. My throat-flesh began to itch as the damage caused by [Sound Shaping] started to come undone. In the meantime, I took a moment to focus on the occasional [Little Guardian’s Totem], checking up on my Coreless, gauging their emotions and looking through their eyes.
To my relief, the Coreless of the many-nest were still doing fine. I found many of them gathered around the [Little Guardian’s Focus], basking in the warmth and strength that it provided, along with a strong taste of [contentment].
Further outward, I found a cluster on the move, traveling towards the second smaller cluster that I knew was a different many-nest. Most of the traveling Totems did not have bearers, though a few did - enough to let me check on their progress. After a brief few moments, I decided that they, too, were doing fine.
They tasted of [eagerness] and [greed]. I was both eager and greedy for new converts as well, so I could understand that.
A nearby sound pulled me away from thoughts of my Coreless’ circumstances - and back towards my other Coreless. The broken remains of many flying bad-things were piled before me, a hill of shattered carapace and twisted flesh. Another corpse flew, carried not by wings, but by pure force. It smacked against the growing mound of its brethren, broken sections of its carapace cracking and shattering under the strain of the landing.
If I hadn’t burned most of the flying bad-things to ash, the mound would have expanded further, but the Coreless soon ran out of relatively intact bad-things.
Afterwards, they just stared at me, [confusion] apparent in their furrowed brows and ever-present Totems.
“Do you think...he’s full or something?” the newest Coreless asked, leaning slightly on his weapon as he drew in great breaths. One hand raised to his brow, and he wiped at the glistening liquid that had gathered there.
“Do you really think that he can get full? I mean, you saw when he ate those Hexablades a while ago. I’m pretty sure the little guy can put away almost anything as long as he can get his mouth around it,” the-female-who-was-not-Needle replied.
“Why isn’t he eating it, then?” he asked, rubbing absently at his cheek.
As the Coreless made noises at one another, I took a moment to think. Although I couldn’t be sure of it, there was a high chance that any bad-thing created by Tiamat would go towards increasing [Chains of the Creator]. I didn’t know for sure, though, and the idea of leaving potential helpful Traits behind caused a twisting in my scale-flesh.
I wanted to become stronger. I needed to become stronger - but I didn’t want Tiamat’s hold on me to grow any more than it already had. If [Chains of the Creator] grew too powerful, even my faith in the Great Core might not be enough to keep me, me rather than one of Tiamat’s thralls.
Still, I figured that I could at least check. The thought-light would be able to confirm if I was correct, and one corpse devoured was far from enough to increase [Chains of the Creator].
Fighting the urge to regurgitate my empty stomach, I slowly dragged one of the corpses from the pile in bits and pieces - one of the more damaged remains, so that I could fit it down my throat a little easier.
Then, trying my best to ignore the sensation of the disgusting thing traveling down my throat, I devoured the pieces.
The thought-light flickered, showing me the truth.
Level 4 Blood of Tiamat Consumed.
Transferred to Core.
Blooded Trait Acquisition Progress: 1/10.
I hissed in frustration, wanting nothing more than to rinse out Tiamat’s filth from my mouth-flesh. Instead, I settled for using the last of my mana on the mound of bad-things. A gout of [Mana Fire] ripped from my jaws, scouring my mouth-flesh free of the vile filth as it exited. It coated the remains, the brilliant blue flames bouncing from wing to wing, setting the whole pile alight with wondrous ease.
I let myself bask in its warmth for a moment, trying to pull free from the irritation of what the thought-light had revealed.
As I had suspected - though not what I had hoped - the flying bad-things were just another form of the Blood of Tiamat. The second Blood, yet just another one of many. Memories of my vision of Tiamat, as well as the repulsive thoughts that it had infected me with, flashed in my head again.
I saw the massive bad-thing lift a claw against its own scale-flesh. I saw drops of blood fall from where it sliced. I saw the blood shift. I saw a wave of new bad-things form from the drops. Their flesh was twisted and repuls - the line of thought shattered. I watched the blood shift again, birthing brothers and sisters of beautiful, twisted flesh and varied forms.
The flying bad-things hadn’t been one of the forms that I had seen, which meant the danger posed by Tiamat was even greater than I had first thought. My vision had shown me many of the bad-things that she could create, but now I knew that she could make many more. For all I knew, she would be able to slowly adjust the shapes of the bad-things that she sent against me, fine-tuning them to be more effective against us. Still, I could feel the distance between us. She was far away, and any new bad-things she created would be equally far. For a time, I would only have to deal with bad-things that were already nearby.
It would only be later that we would encounter others.
In the end, despite the worry that it gave me, it wasn’t Tiamat’s ability to shape bad-things that would be more difficult to fight that was the problem.
Instead, the problem was something that I only now realized.
The flesh-twisted bad-things hadn’t worried me as much, with their size. It would be a rare bad-thing that could swallow hordes of them whole. The host-hive and the bad-things that it carried were different, though.
The host-hive was home to an overwhelming number of Blood of Tiamat. Bad-things that, though small in size, could all cause an Ascended to receive [Chains of the Creator]. And that was the problem. I was small, only able to eat a single one of the disgusting things at a time - and even then with relative difficulty.
Something larger could have eaten the entire hive at once, growing the power of [Chains of the Creator] to an irresistible level before it even had a chance to react.
It wouldn’t just be the bad-things formed from Tiamat's blood that came after me and my Coreless. Ascended would be coming some day.
I just hoped it wouldn’t be any day soon.
Zendran
SHOUTOUT:
Allanther, friend and author of the popular Wizard's Tower on RR, has published his first book: An Old Man's Journey
For those of you who have KU, please consider checking it out.
Synopsis:
At the end of his life, Charles was left with one question: What was it all for?
After his tour of duty and an unremarkable post-Army business career, Charles spent his twilight years watching old movies and waiting for his grandkids to call. He'd lived a good life, been a decent man, but now that his wife was gone he was... Lonely.
Until his old friend Bert introduced him to Crossroads, the new VR sensation. In this virtual world he can move without pain, explore new lands, and most importantly - see his family again. For as long as he can hold their interest, in this fast-paced modern world of instant gratification and VR thrills.
The solution: Build a place his family wants to visit. Armed only with a magic stick with game-breaking powers that should be nerfed, Charles sets out on a journey to find a place to call his own. Along the way, he will be mistaken for an NPC quest giver, become the antagonist in epic questlines, and attempt to teach the next generation proper behavior - even if he has to beat it into them.
This is the story of one man's search for belonging in his second virtual life. A search for a place to belong, and what it takes to get there. It's also a hilarious romp through online fantasy cliches that will appeal to fans of Ready Player One, The Wandering Inn, and slice-of-life comedies.
Because at the end of a man's life: What's more important than family?
An Old Man's Journey
Discord
(Make sure to select a role to view the server's channels)
Patreon to read 30 chapters ahead - As the beginning of the month, now is the best time to pledge to patreon!
