Elara turned slowly, her expression shifting rapidly from idle curiosity to quiet awe as a gentle pulse of mana swept outward, rippling softly through the chamber like a sigh of relief from the shrine itself. It was subtle yet undeniably potent, felt rather than seen—a warmth brushing delicately against skin, fingertips, and hearts alike.
For a brief moment, Myrrith’s statue seemed to awaken; a faint, ethereal glow emanated softly from the tarnished stone, illuminating delicate fractures and casting gentle shadows that danced silently across the walls. The quiet radiance lingered just long enough to bathe the broken goddess in a soft luminescence before gently fading, leaving behind only a sense of peace and the lingering taste of renewal in the air.
Then, as quickly as it had come, the magic ebbed, and the statue returned to lifeless stone.
Before any of them could speak, the fountain gave an abrupt splutter and cough, like lungs drawing breath after centuries of disuse. It shuddered, groaned reluctantly, and then with a tremulous gurgle, water began to flow. Thin, uneven streams trickled from the fractured arms, splashing chaotically into the basin below.
Naomi caught unprepared, yelped and hopped quickly from the basin, shaking cold droplets from her fingers. “Cold!” she gasped, wrapping her arms around herself, though her grin was wide and radiant.
Elara’s voice came as a whisper filled with wonder, her eyes shining softly in the fading glow. “It works.”
Del exhaled, relief mingling with weary satisfaction as he wiped sweat from his brow. “Sort of,” he agreed quietly, regarding the uneven streams. “Not exactly the majestic display it probably used to be, but hey—progress.”
Misty stretched, arching her back elegantly before padding toward the fountain, her steps cautious yet undeniably intrigued. She sniffed at the basin’s edge, whiskers twitching inquisitively as she peered down at the gently rippling water. With careful deliberation, she extended a paw and dipped it into the basin, only to immediately recoil, shaking it sharply and scattering droplets in all directions.
“Cold, isn’t it, Misty?” Naomi confirmed again with a bright giggle, leaning closer with playful mischief sparkling in her eyes.
Misty shot the girl a disdainful glance, tail flicking sharply—but, seemingly encouraged by Naomi’s amusement, she immediately plunged her paw back into the water, splashing more vigorously this time. Droplets sprayed upward, catching the dim sunlight and sparkling like tiny jewels as they scattered around the laughing child.
Naomi squealed, shielding her face with her hands. “Misty!”
The cat’s golden eyes narrowed mischievously, and, as if delighted by Naomi’s reaction, Misty splashed again, deliberately flicking more water toward her.
“Oh, you little beast!” Naomi giggled, responding in kind by gently slapping the surface of the basin, sending a spray of water towards Misty, who danced nimbly backwards, tail flicking with mock indignation.
Del raised an eyebrow, trying—and failing—to look stern. “Seriously, Misty?”
Elara chuckled softly beside him, shaking her head fondly at the playful exchange. “She’s enjoying herself. Let her be.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Del muttered, rolling his eyes in mock resignation, though the reluctant grin tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.
Naomi determined not to be outdone, cupped her hands in the cold water and splashed gently at Misty again, her laughter bright and infectious as the cat gracefully dodged the attack, flicking droplets with a haughty, triumphant look.
Del leaned back, watching the playful skirmish unfold, feeling a genuine warmth settle within him—a gentle affirmation that, despite everything, they were still here, still capable of joy amidst the chaos.
They fell into a steady rhythm of gentle restoration. Hours slipped by quietly, punctuated by Elara’s occasional humming and Naomi’s playful laughter. They worked methodically, clearing debris from the shrine’s worn stone floors, scraping away thick layers of grime from the ancient walls, and gathering fragments of the broken statue reverently in neat piles for future restoration.
Misty contributed too, in her own distinctly feline way—darting energetically after any leaf or bit of rubble moved by the others, or sprawling lazily across freshly cleaned patches of stone, claiming them for herself.
Yet as the shrine gradually regained a semblance of order, Del’s thoughts drifted inevitably to the crypt below, to the scattered bones lying abandoned on the cold stone floor, their unnatural animation forcibly stripped away by the necromancer’s demise.
Those bones had once belonged to living, breathing people, he reminded himself, a wave of quiet melancholy washing over him. They deserved more dignity than to be left scattered in the darkness, discarded remnants of someone’s malicious intent.
Feeling the weight of responsibility settle firmly upon his shoulders, Del quietly descended the staircase, each careful step echoing softly as he left behind the gentle peace of the shrine. The air grew cooler, heavier, tinged with the lingering scent of old stone and battle—a stark contrast to the renewed warmth above.
Entering the crypt chamber once more, Del paused, allowing his eyes to adjust fully to the dim, shadowy light. Fragments of bone lay scattered, some half-hidden in pools of darkness, others clearly visible, stark against the ancient stonework. The memory of violence lingered here, palpable and bitter, like an ache in the bones themselves.
With careful reverence, Del began his solemn task. His movements were deliberate, gentle even, as he knelt beside each collection of scattered remains. Brittle bones felt almost weightless in his hands, strangely fragile despite their earlier menace. He gathered skulls with cracked jaws and empty eye sockets, long femurs and ribs splintered from combat, and smaller bones whose purpose he could only guess.
He moved slowly around the chamber, steadily bringing each scattered fragment toward the far end of the crypt. His quiet footsteps echoed softly, the gentle, rhythmic clink of bone against bone filling the silent space like a muted chorus.
There was something meditative about the simple task—a quiet dignity in giving peace back to these remains, stolen from rest by dark magic. Gradually, a pile took shape in the centre of the crypt chamber. Del stacked each piece carefully, shaping them into a neat, respectful monument, reminiscent of images he’d once seen of ancient catacombs.
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Though he had no way of knowing which skull belonged to which body, the act itself felt profoundly important, as though he were silently acknowledging each individual’s stolen humanity. Time slipped quietly away as he worked, until finally, with a soft exhale, he placed the last bone atop the careful arrangement.
Del stood back, brushing dust and dirt from his palms. His muscles ached softly, but the heaviness he’d felt earlier had somehow lifted, replaced with a quiet sense of fulfilment. The crypt, still shadowy, now seemed less oppressive—more peaceful, even. He regarded the neat pile of bones with quiet respect, silently hoping it would grant those restless spirits a final, gentle release.
Only then, his task completed, did Del finally turn back toward the stairs. As he climbed back up to the shrine above, the air seemed lighter, fresher, as though the act of quiet restoration below had subtly healed some invisible wound within the shrine itself.
As he stepped into the main chamber once more, Elara glanced up from her task. Her eyes softened knowingly as she took in his expression, recognising the solemn calm that had settled over him. She didn’t speak; instead, she simply nodded, quiet understanding passing silently between them.
After another pause, Del sighed, rolling his stiff shoulders. “Feels good, you know?” he murmured softly. “Fixing something, instead of just surviving.”
Elara nodded, brushing her blonde hair away from her eyes. She leaned against the edge of the plinth, a small smile touching her lips. “It’s amazing what a little effort can do,” she said gently.
Del gave a tired chuckle, stretching again to ease the deep-set ache in his muscles. “Yeah. Nice change, isn’t it?”
Her gaze flicked briefly toward the statue, eyes thoughtful. “Do you think she’s watching us right now?”
He hesitated for just a moment, glancing at the battered visage of Myrrith. There was something quietly expectant in the air, something gentle yet watchful, reassuring rather than intrusive. Del nodded slowly.
“Maybe,” he murmured softly. “Yeah, I think she might be.”
‘Thank you, Myrrith,’ he thought, sending the quiet gratitude out into the ether.
And somewhere, at the very edge of perception, he could almost swear he heard a faint, distant laugh—warm, affectionate, and approving.
Misty hopped gracefully onto the rim of the pool, her golden eyes narrowed slightly as she peered down into the gently rippling water. For a moment, she seemed unusually thoughtful, almost reverent, her whiskers twitching gently as if sensing something beneath the surface. Her tail flicked once, twice, in a slow rhythm, matching the ripple of water below, as if acknowledging the mana that now filled the shrine with soft, steady warmth.
Then, with a sudden, violent shake of her head, she sneezed loudly—breaking the tranquil moment entirely.
Del chuckled, shaking his head with affectionate exasperation. “Thanks for that, Misty,” he said wryly as the cat hopped down with casual dignity, padding off across the floor as if nothing had happened.
Elara covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, her shoulders shaking gently as she watched Misty vanish into a patch of sunlight, already searching for another comfortable spot. The shrine echoed briefly with the gentle sound of her laughter, a clear, musical note ringing softly through the chamber.
As the laughter faded, Elara began quietly gathering supplies from their packs, preparing to make dinner. Her movements were careful and efficient, but she hummed softly to herself as she worked—a soothing melody that filled the silence without overwhelming it. The scent of herbs soon drifted into the air, promising something warm and comforting after the rigours of their day.
Del settled himself heavily on the edge of the stone pool, grateful to finally let his aching muscles rest. Fatigue tugged at his limbs, but it was a pleasant kind of tiredness—earned and satisfying. He took a slow breath, turning his attention inward, summoning his status notices with quiet anticipation.
Levels. And thank the gods for that—after the punishing ordeal they’d just survived, it felt damn well earned.
‘We need to get stronger,’ he thought, glancing toward Misty, who lifted her head and regarded him steadily, eyes shining with quiet agreement.
The battles had been difficult, testing limits he hadn’t even known existed, and the gains he’d earned reflected it. The simple numerical rewards were comforting, a tangible sign that the relentless struggle hadn’t been in vain.
Del sighed quietly, feeling tension drain from his shoulders as he sat on the edge of the now-flowing fountain. He stretched briefly, easing out the ache in his muscles, then glanced around the chamber thoughtfully. Despite its lingering damage, the shrine now felt undeniably peaceful, its silent presence a balm after the day’s chaos.
Nearby, Misty settled comfortably onto a freshly cleared patch of stone, stretching languidly, clearly deciding that it was high time for a nap. Del rolled his eyes affectionately but smiled all the same.
‘Lazy moggy,’ he thought fondly.
‘Jealousy suits you poorly, Del,’ Misty shot back, flicking her tail dismissively.
Del huffed out another quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned back to consider his notifications again.
With the weight of immediate danger finally lifted, the chamber around them quiet save for Elara’s soft humming and the gentle trickle of water, the world no longer felt quite so oppressive.
For the first time in what felt like far too long, Del felt genuinely hopeful.
He allowed himself a small smile, leaning back against the stone basin and closing his eyes briefly, relishing the quiet moment.
It was a good start.
Name: Del Axholm
Level: 9
Path: Archer
Health: 66
Strength: 22
Dexterity: 20
Stamina: 21
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 13
Mana: 67
Spirit: 58
Agility: 29
Presence: 10
Animal Companion: Misty; feline
Skills:
Archery lvl 3 – Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows
Woodcraft lvl 3 – Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.
Tracking lvl 2 – Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.
Traps lvl 1 – Can make basic snares and pit traps.
Sneak lvl 3 – Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.
Herbalism lvl 2 – Can identify and gather basic herbs.
Skinning lvl 3 – Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.
Leadership lvl 1 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.
Attacks:
Bow lvl 3 – Simple Shot.
Sword lvl 7 – Cut, thrust.
Dagger lvl 4 – Stab, Slash.
Special Attacks:
Bow:
Sneak attack lvl 1 – Doubles damage
Master Archer lvl 1 – Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.
Dagger:
Backstab lvl 2 – Double damage.
Two Handed Melee lvl 3 – Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.
Name: Misty
Level: 10
Path: Feline Companion
Health: 62
Strength: 16
Dexterity: 22
Stamina: 19
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 6
Mana: 60
Spirit: 15
Agility: 32
Presence: 20
Skills:
Charm lvl 4 – Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.
Transform lvl 1 – Can assume Hellcat form, Strength, Dexterity and Health Double for 15 minutes, These values halved for 30 minutes after effect ends.
Attacks:
Claw lvl 7 – Attack with front claws.
Rake lvl 5 – Double rear leg attack.
Bite lvl 5 – It’s teeth all the way
Special Attacks:
Pounce lvl 7 – Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.
Sneak Pounce lvl 3 – As above; Triple damage.
