Vraxious- Sanctuary
Alright, I think I have left my Smite in the dust for too long. Obviously my real strength comes from the things I make. But right now I'm one skilled assassin away from being very dead. The stigmata shield gives me a bit of a buffer against attacks as long as I'm near plants. Let's make it so I can at least put up a better fight until my critters come to save me.
I mean, I’m a paladin whose lowest-level skill is their smite; that has to be illegal or something. There are entire colleges dedicated to crafting the most efficient and powerful sanctums possible. Hells, a lot of the knightly order’s sanctums are often based off those findings. I bet they would have a collective stroke if they saw I have multiple levels dedicated to a “bigger garden” and a “please come back monsters button.” Vrax made himself chuckle darkly with his introspection as he walked up to his Smite sculpture.
First things first, having to build up and almost prime my Smite makes it way easier to see coming and harder to use in fights. Vrax gathered a small wave of essence behind himself and gathered a simple image in his mind—that of his smites forming nearly instantly. The apex of each spear thrust ended with a flash of dark swirling green power.
The essence easily flowed into his sculpture, solidifying the change. It was such a minor one that he was almost surprised how little it took. Alright, now for the big one, if you can’t touch me, I don’t have to worry if your strength is eight times what mine is...well, unless you throw shit like Torvald, but that's what reflexes are for.
Vrax grimaced as he lifted his hands towards the sculpture, the remainder of the lake behind him slowly lifting in sync before crashing down towards him like a raging river. The moment the essence began rushing past him, he focused its intent. Vrax pictured himself in a glade of sharp grass and thin trees surrounded by three armored men.
The essence poured through him like a conduit while he continued his imaginary battle. The armored man nearest him lunged forward with an abrupt jab of the sword aimed for Vrax’s gut. Vrax stepped past the stab, letting his shield deflect the glancing blow. At the same time, he punched his spear forward, aimed at the next nearest fighter two strides away. His smite instantly blossomed from the tip of his spear, snapping out like a hungry whip and catching the surprised man in the throat in a gout of blood and rot.
Vrax whirled back to the warrior that had stumbled past him, a wave of miasma shooting from his hand in a thin, focused cone that encompassed the man's legs. They rotted out from under him as the surprise ranged smite savaged his muscles. The man struggled back to his feet, ignoring the pain from his dripping calves. Vrax finished it with another gesture from his spear, sending an arrow-shaped bolt that dove into the gap between the man's thigh armor, finishing what the first smite started. The man's leg snapped sideways before simply detaching from the healthy muscles above.
Vrax was jarred from his vision back to the sanctuary as his essence abruptly ran out. The sculpture in front of him changed before his eyes. Now showing his armored form with a spear shoved into a paladin's chest, the smite at the tip of the spear had cored the man's entire torso out, leaving the paladin looking down numbly at what used to be his heart.
Vrax’s sculpture’s free hand was twisted in an aggressive gesture, a helix of rot shooting out from it at an unseen target in the distance. It was a frankly impressive and intimidating as all hell sculpture especially since it had changed to directly show him combating other paladins with his own smite.
Alright, I sure as shit still don’t want to go toe-to-toe solo against those melee monsters, but this should help a lot now. When I'm an obnoxious, elusive foe, I can still strike back at them. Vrax pulled up his smite to see what it said.
[Decomposing Smite](lvl8)
Instantly Infuse your blows with entropy, corroding your foes and using their essence to heal your wounds. You may shape the path of the entropic energy with your will and cast it beyond your weapons. The entropic power decreases rapidly with range.
[Mana Cost Variable]
Oh holy shit, I knew that was a massive change; I didn’t realize it would be six entire skill levels worth! Vrax looked back at his essence lake; it was bone dry. Not even a drop could be seen. The fish that lived within flopped desperately on the dry kelp that carpeted the bottom of the lake.
Alright, how far have I come with all the lives I have taken?
[Vraxious Tier-1] (lvl 41) (Unique) [Paladin Of The Cycle]
You will safeguard the cycle of life and death. Wield the powers of growth, of change, and of decay to set the world free from those who would hold it stagnant. Stand tall with weapon held high and strike down those who would fetter you. You will adapt the life of the world around you to serve your will; life leads to change, change leads to death, death leads to rot, rot leads to life, and thus the cycle continues.
[Skills]
[Decomposing Smite](lvl8)
Instantly Infuse your blows with entropy, corroding your foes and using their essence to heal your wounds. You may shape the path of the entropic energy with your will and cast it beyond your weapons. The entropic power decreases rapidly with range.
[Cistern Of Bloom And Decay](lvl6)
Manipulate the cycle of decay and regrowth around you. Life changed to decay in this way is stored within the cistern, stored life leaks away over time. Targeted decay will be reborn as what it once could have been. Improved control over what is reborn. Stored life may be used to heal the wounds of nearby entities.
[Mana Cost Moderate]
[Adapt Life] (lvl 16)
Change living beings to better suit your needs. Entities changed with this skill will be less hostile towards the paladin, and towards those who wear an adapted mark of the cycle upon themselves. You may view and adapt the [Talents] and [Skills] of adapted entities. Faster changes or changes farther from the base functions of an entity will use exponentially more mana. The more powerful an entity, the more mana required. All adapted entities can be called back to you; the willingness of them to return hinges on distance and if they are occupied. Adapted entities may be Grafted together; this process destroys the lesser creature and is subject to all normal mana requirements.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
[Mana Cost Massively Variable] [Increased Efficiency]
[Duration Permanent]
[Apex Guardian]
[1/2 Guardians Chosen]
You may designate an adapted creature as your Apex Guardian, This will strengthen the bond you share with it as well as vastly decreasing the mana costs required to adapt it.
[Stigmata Wrath Of The Grove] (lvl 16)
Woe befall those that would cause harm to those under the sacred canopy of our protection. Life is a struggle. Life is pain. Life is hunger. Life is fear. Let those who threaten our beloved feel naught but the wrath of the grove until they are returned to the cycle.
[Stigmata Garden, sixteen slots available]
Entities in the stigmata garden will make copies of themselves. The life drain of the stigmata garden will now affect a larger area and affect essence-bound entities that oppose Vurune’s chosen. Your garden now contains a menagerie of predation allowing adapted creatures to be added, only the strong will survive.
Your Stigmata will drain the life from your surroundings to shield itself.
When clad in your stigmata armor nothing shy of the mightiest of divining magics will reveal anything other than you are [The Paladin Of The Forsaken Lands](Chosen Of Vurune).
[Talents]
[Forest Strider]
The forest around you will subtly aid your movement based on intent, be that speed or stealth.
[Passive]
[The Herald Of The Hunt]
Shrines to Vurune in places where the cycle reigns supreme allow the Champion of Vurune to stake a Kings Claim. Maintain supremacy to maintain your claim. Claw and Fang Sword and Staff will answer those who question the resurgence of the god of life, the god of death, and the ever-changing progress he brings. Craft places of savagery and growth that revel in the challenges of the constant struggle between life and death, my champion.
[Passive]
[Predator’s Gaze]
Reveal a living being’s name, tier, and level if it is an essence-infused entity. Entities will have a threat rating relative to their level shown.
[Passive Slight Mana Drain]
[Hunter's Ear]
Your hearing is as sharp as the predators of the deep wood, more easily discern slight sounds.
[Passive]
Improved Attributes
Mental Defenses: 2.2
Reflexes: 1.4
Physical Strength: 1.4
Mana Capacity: 2.0
Mana Regeneration: 1.4
Physical Defense: 1.2
Total Mana: 204/204
Vrax returned from his sanctuary to the room with his friends. “Hey, who here knows where we can sell some very ill-gotten gains to someone who won’t ask questions?” Vrax said while pointedly looking at Jonathan. Torvald and Stereos also turned towards Jonathan.
Jonathan stopped Adapting intricate designs into his halberd for a moment to look insulted. “Really, you just assume it’s me? I mean, you are right, but like, what are you talking about? You fuckers had some big saddlebags on that bear of Torvalds. I guess the best way to say it is HOW ill-gotten. I have a normal fence we could talk to, or we could go to a really sketchy place and hope they just don’t try and rob us.”
Vrax looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, it’s mostly dead paladin armor and weapons, a few inquisitorial magic goodies too.” Jonathan sputtered.
He took a deep breath. “Really sketchy it is. I’ll lead the way; maybe do the whole ‘I’m the paladin, be afraid’ thing you do when we get there. I’d feel really shite if on my first day as your bodyguard you got stabbed.”
Vrax smiled, but there wasn’t any joy in it. Miasma flickered in the air around him briefly for a moment. “Don’t worry about that; I’m starting to get a reputation among that element.”
It was a short trip to the establishment Jonathan had in mind, and conveniently it was on the way towards the dungeon as well. A tavern and smithy, along with a stable, organized more like a compound surrounded by high walls than any normal business. It was set a hundred strides off the road up a narrow winding cobblestone trail.
Vrax kept his hood pulled up high as they walked and made sure to add the Spriggan to his garden before they started up the trail. It would force his armor to stay on, but he figured that was fine. If they saw the spriggan, they might actually be stupid enough to try and rob them. The sapling was worth hundreds of gold; a fresh sprout that no one knew how to grow might be more in the thousands of gold region. That might be enough for them to risk death even with his reputation.
A handful of probably-not-loggers were cutting wood in the forest along the trail. It was obvious they weren’t trying to hide that they were hired muscle very much. No one sat next to a haphazard pile of cut wood in scale mail in reality. There was even a mage who cut down a tree with a few swift swipes of his hand before spitting on the ground as they passed.
“Wow…friendly crowd,” Torvald said, beaming a smile at the mage, who looked suitably confused by the gesture.
They came to a gatehouse at the end of the trail. A massive sign was posted out front. “Red Willow Mercenary Company and Services” was written in succinct black paint across it. A rather well-dressed gentleman with a saber at his side and high widow's peak hair stepped forward. “Welcome travelers, what business do you have with the willows today?” His eyes scoured over the party brows, raising mightily the longer he inspected the bear. Finally, he took an inadvertent step back with a small gasp as his gaze met Vrax’s helmeted visage.
Jonathan stepped up. “Heya, I’ve done business here before, and my new boss has some goods he wants to sell.” Jonathan gestured at Vrax.
“Wouldn’t mind a tankard or ten as well.” Muttered Torvald.
“My name is Segunda. I ...ahe…Might I ask your name, sir? Although if I'm correct in my assumptions, today just got either very profitable or very dangerous.” Segunda said while looking straight at Vrax. The guards nearby had been realizing one by one that the new visitor wasn’t just an eccentric merchant and were adopting defensive stances along the walls.
Vrax reached out an armored hand, the gesture parting his cloak enough that everyone nearby could see the slightly twitching Everthirst cape and the burning green seams of his armor. “You can just call me The Forsaken Paladin. Now I’m here to do business others might find unsavory. Mind letting me inside?”
Segunda slowly took Vrax’s offered hand and gave it a cautious shake. “Now would you mind if I inspected you to substantiate such a…intense claim?” Vrax nodded, and mana spiraled around Segund's eyes. His face went a bit paler, and he nodded tersely. “Welcome to the Red Willow, Sir Paladin. Please make yourselves at home in the tavern, and I’ll be right in with our quartermaster.” Segunda waved at the gatehouse almost frantically, indicating they should open the gate.
The doors spilled open wide with the screech of poorly oiled hinges, exposing the heart of the compound. It was a very well-appointed collection of buildings that almost looked like a town square. The tavern sat dead center, built from dark brown and light tan woods. The woodwork was woven together extravagantly, blending the plankwork into more of an abstract artistry.
The stable to the right had a paddock full of jet-black horses with long swishing tails. They were powerful, expensive-looking beasts. Opposite the actual stable building was a high-walled enclosure that looked like it had been reinforced and then reinforced again with more wood and metal braces. Whatever was inside moved suddenly, rattling the solid walls. Oh...I wonder what beastie is in there…
The rest of the compound was a small collection of housing buildings. A simple office that looked like it didn’t receive much use. And finally a store that had no lettered signage, just the symbol of a heart with a dagger thrust through it.
Torvald pulled ahead of everyone else. “You heard the man; let’s make ourselves at home. It’s been far too long since I’ve had a proper ale. This fucker would rather be hunted in the forest for a fucking month!” He pointed at Vrax accusatorially.
“Oh hush, I like comfy more than you do, you savage. I’ve just been busy!” Vrax shot back, following Torvald towards the tavern.
