Darris sat within a dark cave, his body was drenched in blood from all the wolves he'd killed. He estimated he'd killed about 20 of them, however he lost count after about 10. Regardless of the number of wolf souls he'd absorbed, he didn't feel all too much stronger. When he'd absorbed part of Tempest's soul he'd gained a massive power surge. However, as a result it made weak creatures like wolves nearly useless in increasing his abilities.
Darris glanced down into the darkness of the cave. A few wolves had come out of it once he'd approached the entrance. He assumed it had been their den. Darris held up his bloodstained scimitar up toward him. Nearly half of the steel blade was covered in red ichor. He let the blade go and it dispersed into flicks of golden mist before it even hit the stone floor. Then he held out his hand and called the scimitar to his hand again. In the blink of an ear the curved steel blade apperated into his hand, polished and clean as if it had just been made. No matter how many times Darris called and recalled the blade, the fact it looked perfectly new every time never failed to amaze him.
He thought back to the ziggurat, when his scimitar had broken against the hide of the ice devil. If only he'd been a reaper then he would've been more useful.
Then he heard a growl. Similar to that of the wolves he'd faced before. But this growl was much louder, causing the cave to rumble from sound.
Darris shot to his feet as he glanced down the cave once again. He waited a moment as the low growling began to get closer. Then he saw the beast. A large wolf, bigger than himself, peered through the darkness. Darris wavered, only for a moment, as the beast approached him. A dire wolf. He'd seen these sorts of monstrous creatures, he'd even killed one or two before. But that was when he had people to help him. The spells of Tempest and Trent, the skill of Isak, and the strength of Elrik.
Darris took a deep breath, feeling the air go into and leave his lungs, however it did little to calm his nerves. Then the dire wolf leaped forward with a snarl.
Darris rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the fangs of the beast. Darris quickly got to his feet and shot forward at the wolf. He slashed across its side as it turned to face him, however the wound wasn't near as deep as Darris had hoped.
The wolf turned and swung its claw at Darris's shoulder, however he quickly ducked under the swing and cleaved upward with his scimitar, cutting across the creature's jaw. The large beast stumbled away, shaking the blood from its head before lunging forward for another bite.
This time Darris took a step to the side, the maw of the wolf only grazing across his tattered clothes. Darris swung down with his blade, cutting a wound across the beast's eyes. Then a second cut, then a third. The dire wolf backed away, shaking its head and whimpering.
Darris smiled, overcome by an odd feeling of superiority over the beast. He had definitely gotten stronger since he'd fought a dire wolf.
He rushed at the beast again, side-stepping it's futile attempt to bite at him. With one final swing he cut across the dire wolf's abdomond, sending it tumbling to the stone floor in a heap of blood.
Darris looked at the corpse as the golden mist arose from its wounds and around its fur. He reached out and touched the golden soul and, once again, a wave of energy pulsed through him, several times more then the wolves he'd been killing.
Nonetheless Darris was still disappointed. From how difficult he'd always imagined dire wolves to be he didn't feel an exponential power from the soul.
The bloodstained scimitar in Darris's grasp faded away as he let it fall to the floor. He sighed and walked from the cave, staring up at the tree branches above him. Then he came to the realization that he didn't quite know where he was. He'd wandered around aimlessly hunting wolves.
Then he just began walking. He'd reach the edge of the forest eventually. Whilst the forest had undoubtedly gotten larger the past 200 years, he could still figure out where he was once he could see out of it.
"Quite the killing spree." Tempest ringed in Darris's mind.
"I needed to get stronger quickly. This was my best idea. Not like I could've killed the people in Vanderin." Darris spoke aloud.
"I suppose. Why are you so fixated on gaining strength? Not that it's necessarily a bad thing. I studied the arcane for so long to gain the strength to be a worthwhile member of Fame without any power lent to me by Devils." Tempest explained, his voice suddenly sounding much more distant.
Darris was silent for a moment, thinking of the words he was about to say. All he heard was the crunching of leaves and branches as he walked. "So I have the strength to protect people."
"It wasn't your fault; what happened in the Ziggurat." Tempest said, reading Darris's thoughts. "It doesn't matter how strong any of us had been. Even if Elrik and Trent had stayed with us we all would've fallen to that ice devil."
"It's not about the ziggurat; not completely." Darris corrected. "You were our leader, a great mage; more than any of us had noticed. Trent was also very skilled for his age. Elrik's strength was beyond anything any of us could achieve. Isak's quick mind was always integral in fighting strategically."
"And you?" Tempest asked.
Darris sighed. "I was just a swordsman. I might be quick-footed but I never really did much. I felt useless in the ziggurat. I couldn't fend off the Tanarukk and it killed Elrik. We could all only run as we were chased by manes and I could hardly even shut the door to keep them at bay. And all I did was watch helplessly as Isak was impaled by the ice devil. I couldn't even stop Trent from leaving and getting himself killed by the demons." Darris said, beginning to walk faster, turning his hand to a fists as he trekked through the forest.
"We don't know he's dead. Like you said Trent was a skilled mage. He could-" Tempest's voice suddenly came quiet as Darris shouted aloud.
"Was? You don't even believe he's alive so stop telling me he's not. Trent might've been a skilled mage but he couldn't have made it out of that ziggurat; not with so many demons and devils swarming around it." He shouted. Then he continued walking.
"Darris," Tempest said softly, nearly being washed out by the crunching of leaves under Darris's feet. He sighed. "I'm not sure if Trent is alive or not. Yes, it is possible he could've been killed by demons, but he could've escaped. And if he did he has the blood of an elf. He would only be a third of the way through his lifespan by now. Even if he did die, so did you. And you're back, aren't- " Once again his voice faded as Darris slammed a fist into a nearby tree, tearing the bark from its surface and making a crack within the trunk.
"I'm nothing but a walking corpse now Tempest." Darris said. "Just stop talking for now. I never asked to be brought back."
It was then that Darris spotted something from the corner of his eye. A dim light peaking through the trees; a fire. Fire meant people.
With slightly more haste then before he began toward the firelight. Then a thought crossed his mind. He was still a walking corpse. He sighed and began to trekk forward. He'd just have to take whatever slim chance he had in them not killing him on sight.
As Darris peered through the trees he saw four creatures around the fire, cackling and growling at eachother. They were all humanoid. Crude weapons hung from sheathes at their sides. One of them even had a rusted battleaxe across its back.
"Gnolls." Darris growled, his scimitar apperating into his hands once again. Darris knew gnolls as savage hunters that slaughtered anything in sight. They only lived to feast on the flesh of other creatures.
As Darris krept from the tree line toward the gnolls they turned to face him. They all made various grunts and growls at Darris, confused that a random walking corpse would approach them. The two gnolls closest to Darris held up their weapons. One wielded a scimitar made of sharpened bones. The ones wielded a spear that it held forward, pointed at Darris's chest.
Darris glanced from one gnoll to the other. The one with the large axe began to walk around to the edge of the treeline. The fourth gnoll stayed behind the fire, growling and barking orders at the others.
Suddenly Darris dashed forward toward the gnoll wielding the spear. The gnoll shoved the spear forward as Darris approached, however it wasn't expecting the sudden movement. Darris knocked the tip of the spear aside with his scimitar before turning the blade and swinging forward at the gnoll's throat. The steel blade of the scimitar cut through the gnoll's neck, sending it toppling onto its back, grabbing at its now bloody neck.
Darris turned to the next gnoll just as it swung at him. Darris raised his own scimitar just in time to parry the blow. Then an axe met his side and sent him hurling through the fire. Pain flared across Darris as he hit the ground on the other side of the fire, a wound in his side now oozing black blood.
Darris rose to his feet just as another gnoll ran forward; a crude club raised in its hand. Darris side-stepped the first swing of the gnoll's club and parried the second. Darris took half a step back from a third swing before lunging forward. He swung upward with his scimitar across the gnoll's chest. Golden mist in the vague form of a wolf flowed from the blade of the scimitar and flowed into the wound of the gnoll. The gnoll howled in pain as the golden mist within his wound began to seep into his skin, corroding the flesh underneath. He hardly got another breath out when another soul-empowered slash from Darris sent the gnoll to the ground in a heap.
Darris quickly swooped down and touched the golden mist that was flowing from the gnoll's fur. He expected another rush of energy, but instead the mist flooded to the wound on the side of his chest. Darris felt a sudden warmth fall over him as the wound closed itself as the mist faded into it.
Darris was knocked from his thoughts when two gnolls stepped from the edges of the fire. One wielding a greataxe, and the other a saber made of bone. Darris glanced back and forth between the two gnolls as they stalked toward him. Then, just as he turned, one of them rushed forward.
Darris quickly turned to block the swing of a saber as the gnoll ran forward. He then ducked to the side just as an axe grazed above his head. He then turned once more to block an attack from the saber before rearing back for a soul-powered swing of his blade. However another blow from a heavy axe sent him flying backwards into the dirt.
He began to get up when the gnoll with the sword impaled it through his right arm, pinning it to the ground; the same arm that held his blade. Pain pulsed through Darris's body as he struggled to move the arm that still held tightly to his scimitar. He looked up to see the gnoll baring its teeth, ready to bite into his flesh.
That's when Darris noticed a very slight weight around his neck. The golden pendant Tempest had given him once he'd joined squad 12. Without thinking, Darris clutched the pendant of the sword in his hands, and before he knew exactly what he was doing, he swung forward, a new golden blade in his hands.
The gnoll backed away and snarled at the sudden attack, tearing its own blade free from Darris's arm. The gnoll with the axe stomped forward and swung down at Darris, however he kicked his legs up and rolled backwards; the heavy axe becoming lodged within the dirt.
Darris shot forward, brandishing both of his scimitars that now flowed with golden mist. He swung them across, on either side of the gnoll's neck. The soul-powered blades cut through the hide of the gnoll like butter, separating its head from its body. The now headless gnoll fell to the ground in a heap as its golden soul began to drift from its body. Darris walked through the mist as it swarmed around his body, repairing the wound on his arm and making the mist around his scimitar's flare up.
The final gnoll took half a step back as Darris approached. It began to snarl and growl in seemingly incoherent babble. Then it barked out a word Darris understood, albeit hardly legible. It took Darris a moment to figure out the word as the gnoll kept repeating it.
"Truce. Truce. Truce." It snarled, taking another step back.
Darris turned his head to the side. He had no idea gnolls were able to speak the common language. The only language he'd ever heard them speak was a primitive language of snarls, growls, and barks.
"Truce?" Darris asked, taking a few steps forward. "You probably should have said that before you tried to kill me." He said, then he glanced down at himself before returning his gaze to the gnoll. "Again." He added. Darris took a few more steps forward. The gnoll made a futile attempt to swing his sword but it was quickly knocked from the creature's grasp by one of Darris's scimitars.
Darris held his golden scimitar to the gnoll's throat. "Take me to Vanderin; nowhere else. Then scramble back to the forest." He ordered. The gnoll just gave a light whimper and nodded its head.
* * *
The gnoll had been surprisingly helpful. It had guided Darris through the forest as it was told. It even gave Darris a general idea of the surroundings so he wouldn't get lost like before; although he felt it would've been much easier if they spoke the same language. Once they had finally reached the grassy fields that led to Vanderin, the gnoll parted from Darris, retreating back into the forest without a sound.
Darris now began his walk forward, toward his hometown. A golden pendant around his neck, and many souls swirling within his body. For the first time in a long time, he felt powerful. He could take on so much more than he ever could when he was living. He could only imagine how strong he'd be in time.