Chasing Shadows (solo)

[Typheus]

Typheus chased towards the silhouette that glided away from him through the trees. It had been near him when he fought and lost against Xem'Zund's forces, it had been with him when he came to Althanas, and it was near him when he wiped out the rest of its kind. He had a lot to repent for, and he had a lot more sins to commit before his time in this world was over.

The figure looked back at him and Typheus could not tell what it was going. It was known as a Faceless, and it had no texture at all. It was a walking shadow, shaped like a human, but able to mold parts of its body into varying weapons. It had no face to speak of, which earned it the name Faceless.

Long ago, a war, tended to like a fire by the Faceless, threatened to consume his own universe. When he gained his true power, he wiped out the Faceless for good, but at the same time, sealed his own damnation and got transported to Althanas, where his old power amounted to nothing, and he had to start anew. This Faceless was the last survivor of that old battle, and it had escaped one last attempt of Typheus to extinguish its life. This time, however, Typheus only wanted to talk. It held a secret, Typheus knew, of its old race. Typheus wanted to ask it why they did what they did, but most of all, he wanted a chance to repent, if he could, but he would not kill the shadow fleeing him.

"PLEASE!" Typheus yelled, running as fast as his already worn out legs would carry him. "I ONLY WANT TO TALK! LOOK AT ME! I DON'T STAND A CHANCE AGAINST YOU ONE ON ONE, NOT IN THIS STATE!" It was true. Typheus had just come from the battle with Xem'Zund, and he was in no condition to fight the shadow being, who seemed to have the strength of three men in this world.

"I KNOW WHAT I DID! I KILLED YOUR PEOPLE! I WAS A FOOL AND A ZEALOT! I WANT TO TRY AND FIX THINGS, BUT I NEED TO TALK TO YOU, FIRST!" The Faceless hesitated for a moment and then turned around to look at Typheus before heading off full speed into the forest, which was steadily growing darker.

"PLEASE!" Typheus screamed, growing tired. "Please! Wait...." Typheus couldn't hold out any longer. His legs gave out and he faltered, tumbling to the ground, eventually coming to rest on his side next to a large tree. Spitting out some dirt that he managed to bite, he rolled over onto his back and stared up at the sky. Night time was soon approaching, and God knows what would be in these woods, trying to separate his meat from his bones. He'd fought bandits, zombies, and even a Thayne, a supposed god, and who the hell knows how they compared to the rest of the stuff in this forest.

Typheus couldn't take it anymore, he had to rest, but he had to defend himself. He put himself in a bad position by blindly chasing the Faceless, and now he may pay the price. He started panicking and pulled out his sword so that he could defend himself from a possible attack, unwilling to close his eyes to the danger around him. Unwilling, until a strange sound filled his ears.

It sounded as if it came from a harp, or something similar. Whatever it was, it was putting him to sleep faster than a pill. He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, and when the music started to get louder, he found himself in the sleep of the dead.

Visions of Y'edda, of his old universe prospering, and of Ramia sacrificing herself to save Typheus and Lorenor from Y'edda fluttered through his mind. The Faceless was present in every scene, as if mocking his inability to keep up with it. The zombies marched toward him, their arms outstretched to grab him and bite him, and he was without any possible defense. The meteor came crashing down before he awoke, screaming, and then lying back down before he realized he wasn't on the forest floor anymore.

There was a small roof overhead, connected to a round wall, which connected with a wooden floor. The house was finely crafted, and so was the furniture. It was reminiscent of old oak, but slightly different, and seemed to co-exist with the rest of the house. A small fireplace lay on the opposite side from him, built into the wall with stones and bricks. There was a small glowing fire in it, the first sign of comfortable civilization he'd seen in days. Whoever was here had probably saved his life. Looking outside, he saw that it was either late night or very early into dawn. It was most likely the latter.

A sudden voice made Typheus reach down to his side, only to see that his sword wasn't there.

"Hello, nice to meet someone who isn't of the living dead." a stranger spoke, who had long silver hair and thin nimble frame along with pointy ears.. His skin was slightly pale and his eyes spoke of great knowledge, but at the same time, a reluctance to brag about it. His clothes consisted of a loose silver tunic and pants, along with small white shoes that arced upwards at the toes. The stranger saw Typheus's hand where his sword use to be.

"Looking for this?" The stranger said, holding the Forged Light Blade up and swinging it around like some master. He held it perfectly balanced on his forefinger and started to analyze it some more. "You made this blade? It has the same essence as you."

"...who-" Typheus began, but was cut off by the stranger.

"Please, I have saved your life, and I have kept you warm for the time being," he said, gesturing towards the fire. "I think it would be in order if you answered my questions first."

"I know," Typheus said, acting like a disciplined child who knew what he did wrong. "The blade was crafted out of concentrated light. I learned long ago that if you pull enough photons together, it's actually possible to make them condense into a solid object. The color and shape was my own choice."

"I see, and it would take an unimaginable amount of power to pull enough light together to make it take a physical form. You do not possess this kind of power, but you did, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I had enough to rip this planet apart at a whim if I wanted. But that is all gone now. All that's left is a pathetic being, questions, and the inability to FIGHT OFF EVEN THE MOST POMPOUS LITTLE BASTARD!" Typheus yelled as he slammed his hand down on his leg, now realizing that his body was a bit sore.

The stranger nodded his head and placed the sword onto the table. He walked over to the fire and sat down, pulling a harp from inside his clothing, and began to play.

The fire turned into a sphere and began to shrink in size. The sphere settled when it was about the size of a small fist and glowed very dimly. The elf sighed and turned to Typheus.

"There's your problem. Your experience in this world is very low. You will grow in strength. Have hope. Everyone does, even those who are unable to fight at all, even those who are in prison and are awaiting a pardon, and even those who may not live to see another day. We all fight, and so do you, but you need to quit thinking of the past, and make way for the future. Your old powers are closed to you, but your new powers are just now BEGINNING to wax."

"But they're too strong. What am I to do if I can't beat them?" Typheus said, before lying back down, drifting to sleep before the stranger could say another word.

[Typheus]

Typheus awoke later in the morning and the fire had been extinguished, but the stranger was still sitting there, playing his instrument. Typheus felt rejuvenated and immediately sat up and jumped out of bed. The stranger stopped playing and looked over at Typheus.

"What indeed?" said the stranger, bringing their last conversation to conclusion. It took Typheus a few moments to realize what the stranger was saying, and even when he did, he shrugged it off as useless banter.

"So what is your name?" the stranger asked, rising from his seat and putting his harp away. "I think I deserve to know the name of someone I saved, and for politeness, I'll give mine first. I am Sheringal, I am a bard, an elf."

"The name's Typheus," he said plainly, not really impressed that he was talking to an elf as they didn't have them in his universe. "I'm a soldier, and I'm not exactly sure what the hell I am. I thought I was a citizen of my home planet, Euracia, then I thought I was the savior of my entire universe, and now, I'm a useless welp, so who knows."

"I know what does," Sheringal replied. "This forest isn't the safest thing in the world, but I think you can handle yourself in the daylight. You can find this truth at the top of a mountain to the east of here. It climbed it long ago to learn my songs, and to find inspiration. My magic isn’t simply waving your hand around and making something happen. It’s much more, and it requires artistic ability. Perhaps, you will find inspiration as you find truth.”

“What makes you think I want to break off my chase to find this truth?”

“Your eyes, your soul, your heart. Everything wants an answer.” Sheringal slowly walked over to a cabinet while he spoke and opened the doors to spill a load of dust onto the ground. This cabinet obviously hadn’t been opened in a long time. Inside, Sheringal found what he was looking for, which was a small golden flute. He threw it to Typheus and he caught it and held it up to eye level to examine it. A power flowed from it, calling Typheus, but he chose to ignore it for the time being.

“I can’t play a flute.” Typheus said flatly, pocketing it anyways. “Doesn’t mean I won’t give it a shot, but no promises.”

“Come to the window.” Sheringal said, standing next to the only window facing east. Typheus did and looked out. The mountain was standing tall, a landmark in the forest, waiting for anyone who wanted to climb it. It was flat at the top, and there was a thin line of snow cropping its top. It looked ancient, like all mountains do, but it looked like an ordinary mountain. “Will you accept this challenge?”

“Challenge?” Typheus asked, “before it was just a means of obtaining the truth.

“Truth…has its price.”

[Typheus]

Typheus accepted a generous amount of food and supplies from Sheringal. He still had no idea why he was doing this. A mountain holding truth at its top? What the hell kind of campaign is he being put on? He could turn away right now, and go after the Faceless again. It would be so easy. So, so easy. But for some reason…he couldn’t do it. He felt himself arguing with his mind, but there was nothing to do. His mind was made up, even if some part of him rejected it.

“Try to avoid going anywhere but the mountain. This forest is very, very dangerous, but certain forces open the way for you. Stay to the path, or you’ll find yourself in a bad situation.”

“Right, I best be going. I think it’d be better if I actually got to the mountain before nightfall.”

“Smart,” Sheringal said as he slowly walked back towards his small house. “Just remember to try your hand at that flute every so often. I hope that your song will come to you sometime before you reach the top.” Sheringal did not enter into his house until Typheus had started his trek towards the mountain.

The load straight road ahead seemed longer with every step, but there was nothing that could be done about it but continue walking. The house behind Typheus grew distant as he continued his hike, but the mountain did not seem to want to get any closer. It was as if it was an illusion and he was falling right into its trap. Part of him wanted to go back, but he knew he couldn’t. Not if he wanted truth and finality.

[Typheus]

The road was as straight as could be, almost as if made for someone to go to the mountain. It probably was. That elf was no one’s fool, so it wouldn’t be above him to secure a way to get to the base of the mountain at least. The top was another story. Typheus was sure that the elf hadn’t told him something about the actual climb that he was sure to run into.

The forest seemed to be crowding around him as he walked further and further from Sheringal’s hut. It was as if the path was stronger nearer to its source. The bard’s magic was not infinite it seemed and would be losing its effect around the base of the mountain. So be it then. There was nothing more to do but climb after he reached the base. This, he thought he was sure of.

His mind was on the mountain ahead until a loud scream broke the silence. It sounded like a small girl and was coming from a distance off of the path. The scream came again, and Typheus realized that he had to make a choice here. Stay on the path…or save the girl. The choice was a simple one, as he drew his sword and rushed off into the brush, ignoring the danger around him.

He reached a small clearing where an awkward sight awaited him. It was indeed a girl screaming…but it wasn’t exactly human. The creature screaming was a wolf, covering its head with its paws and cowering before a large spider being. The spider looked to kill the wolf, and for a moment Typheus didn’t think of why he should help the wolf, as it was just a part of nature that they should fight. His mood changed when the wolf looked up at him with its terrified eyes and started screaming for help. The spider turned to face Typheus and he went at it before it had a chance to get ready for battle. He chopped a few of its legs off and then impaled it, ending its pathetic life.

“Thank you.” Said the wolf as she walked off, leaving Typheus to draw his sword from the spider’s abdomen.

“Wait. What the hell are you?” Typheus asked, but the wolf had already disappeared, leaving him to guess as to what had just transpired before his eyes.

[Typheus]

Typheus's journey had been uneventful for the rest of the day until nightfall when he finally reached the base of the mountain and decided to set up camp, which turned out to be nothing more than a camp fire and a sleeping bag provided by the bard. He reached into one of his small pouches and pulled out a small package of dried and salted meat and tried to take a bite of it. It was good, but he missed the food from his old base in his own universe more than anything. Nothing worse than being homesick when there’s absolutely no possible way to get home, or at least that’s what Ramia had said to him, shortly before she sacrificed herself to stop Y’edda, but even that was in vain as Y’edda, trying to prove her immortality, escaped from the pocket dimension that Ramia collapsed in on itself.

“Ramia, Ramia, where art thou, Ramia?” Typheus said absentmindedly as he took another bite of the meat. There was almost nothing worse than knowing that he couldn’t protect the thing that was supposed to protect him. “Shameful,” he said to himself. “If only I had more power. If only there was a way. Maybe I’ll find a way to avenge her. Until then…I’m going to be busy climbing a mountain.”

Typheus tried to go to sleep near the fire, but was unable to shake the feeling that he was being watched by something. Most likely, the something was not human, and Typheus would have been glad to kill it off if only so he didn’t have to sleep with one eye open. The feeling immediately stopped and he found himself able to get to sleep, with more dreams of battles, Ramia, the Faceless, and more hurtful memories.


These dreams did not plague Typheus even when he fought in the wars of his old universe. It was because he had become so used to everything that the dreams died away. Maybe it was some power protecting him from madness. Whatever it was, it was gone, and he felt that he would not have another good night's sleep again.

[Typheus]

In the morning, Typheus packed up his bag, doused the fire, and started examining the mountain to try and find the best place to start his ascent. He hoped there would be some small outcropping of rock that he could easily get started on, but such as it was, there was nothing easy about it. The rocks looked as if they could give way and the mountain looked infinitely tall.

Something told Typheus that he was forgetting something and it occurred to him that in the events of yesterday, he had forgotten to play the flute that Sheringal had given him. He hoped that he didn't waste too much potential practicing time as he pulled the flute out of a pocket on his jacket and put it up to his lips and began to play randomly. He tried slow, fast, and medium tempo tunes, but nothing worked for him. He eventually put it away and figured that he would try again if he found a place to rest before the top.

Putting one hand on a small outcropping of rock, he began his climb slowly but steadily, making sure that he had a good grip before trying to lift himself up so that he did not fall to his death. The mountain rocks above him seemed to drop away about a hundred feet up and he decided he would take a break at that point. The mountain itself stretched far beyond the cliff he was on and that familiar feeling of giving up started to settle in.

About halfway up, a rock slipped out of the rock face and he had to hold one with his feet and one hand as he started panicking and tried to find his grip once again. He looked down and the drop below was a bit dizzying. The rest of the climb seemed to be in great question as he finally managed to pull himself to the rock face once again and scrambled up to the top to the first ledge, which was about 6 feet across. He laid down for a rest once he arrived and noticed that the climb further up would be nigh impossible. It was a sheer cliff face with no grips at all. This climb was ridiculous and perilous, and would bring him what? Truth? Whoopty Doo.

He felt his chest heaving up and down as he slowly sat up and took a look at the forest that he had crossed through. It was enormous, and he was so far away that he could not make out any sign of the bard’s home. His old campsite was visible, though, and he could have sworn that he saw something down there kicking up ashes in the fire. He was about to yell, when common sense gripped him. The bard said this forest was dangerous, and that thing could be crazy enough to come up after him if he decided to interrupt its “fun.” Who knew how strong it was. It was similar to a human, but kind of like a childish scribble. It gave Typheus the worst feeling he’d had in ages, like a haunted house to a child.

He risked one more look over the cliff face and saw that it was picking up the ashes and tossing them around like a kid picking up sand. The very sight of it made Typheus want to scream out for some reason. It was some kind of horrific apparition that looked just human enough to fool someone from a distance, but then terrify them up close. Its eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets a bit, as if they’re about ready to fall out, and its ears were very small. The rest of it was too fuzzy to make out, which is partly of why it was so creepy. One thing he noticed were the hands that resembled jumbled bunches of wires more than anything else. Typheus retracted his head back over the cliff face. He was about ready to piss himself.

[Typheus]

After walking around the ledge he was on, making sure to keep his head down in case the fiend below decided to look up, he eventually found something that could help him. There was a large cave in the side of the mountain, possibly leading further up if he was lucky. It would also hide him from the monster as he made his ascent.

As he set foot in the cave, he had to stop for a second to let his eyes adjust. When they did, he saw a sight that made him forget all about the monster. The cave led into a large cavern and this cavern was filled to the brim with gold. It must have been worth enough to buy Raiaera. Gold trinkets, coins, weapons, armor, you name it. It would make a king envious and give a ridiculous amount of power to anyone who possessed it. The only question was: who DID possess it? Typheus could see no one in the cave aside from himself.

As he walked further into the cavern, it started to get darker from the absence of daylight outside. He was just about to summon a small orb of light when torches burst to life on every side of the cavern, with one in the middle for completion. Typheus, startled, drew his sword and got ready for any fight he could foresee. He got into a defensive stance and started looking around, but there was no one there. He thought he was alone until a small cough caught his attention.

He looked towards the direction of the cough and caught a small man walking around a golden suit of armor that was about his size. He wore a small set of green trousers along with a white shirt and brown boots. He was bald and seemed to be past his middle ages as he slowly walked towards Typheus, a gold cane directing his limping steps.

“Oh, I haven’t seen someone up here in a long time,” croaked the man. “Last man to come up here was an elf named Sheringal. Nice fellow, although he was a bit…mysterious.”

“You talk as if a cavern richer than God isn’t mysterious.” Typheus replied taking another look around him.

“Well, that’s what happens when you’re not only an extremely talented merchant, but also very lucky! Nothing mysterious about that, eh?” The old man replied, giving out a small laugh. “I do what I must with my job and look where I end up. ‘Richer than God’ as you say and living in solitude. Now if only I had the guts to spend the money, think of where I’d be.”

“Who knows…maybe the king of Raiaera?”

“Maybe a lazy slob with nothing to do, but that’s beside the point,” the old man said, getting a more serious look on his face. “Sheringal wanted to climb to the top to find truth…is that why you’re here? Forget it. I’ve been to the top of this mountain and there is no truth to speak of. I’ve made the journey so much that I know this mountain by heart.”

“I’m still going to the top,” Typheus said flatly.

“Why!?” The old man half asked, half yelled. “There’s nothing up there unless you’re looking to build a snow man!” The old man walked towards one side of the cavern and pointed to a cave that seemed to have steps leading downwards. “You go through this cave, and you’ll be back on the safe ground in no time. Better than having to climb back down, right? Hell, if you let me save your life by going back down, I’ll give you enough of this gold so that you can be financially secure for the rest of your days so long as you don’t go overboard with it.”

“That’s not an option for me. I’ve got to climb this mountain, or else I’m going to go mad.” Typheus said as he looked back at the door through which he came. The old man saw him looking and shook his head angrily.

“You damned young ones these days. If you HAVE to climb to the top, don’t go back out that way. There’s a tunnel over here-“ the old man walked towards one side of the cavern, “-that will take you further up. Better than climbing a cliff, eh?”

“Thank you.” Said Typheus as he bowed to the man and headed for the cavern door. He was grateful that there was a way up like he had hoped. He did wonder about the odds of it, but quickly put that thought behind him as he entered into the other tunnel and began to climb up a set of steps with the old man following behind him, muttering things about arrogance and stubbornness.

When Typheus finally reached the top of the tunnel and came out into the bright sunlight again, he turned to thank to man and started to continue on his way. He then remembered something he ought to say before leaving. Still looking ahead and trying to contemplate where to go from here—the obvious way ahead was a ledge that seemed to spiral upwards around the mountain.

“Seal up your front entrance for the time being. There’s some kind of dangerous looking monster down below, and it wouldn’t be in your best interests if he climbed up your stairs.”

“Oh, there’s always something hideous awaiting people who give up.”

This made Typheus turn around so fast he thought he was going to get whiplash. The sight before him shocked him out of his mind. The old man had vanished, and what’s worse, the cave that he had come out of had vanished as well. This mountain definitely wasn’t normal, and now Typheus understood what Sheringal hadn’t been telling him.

Realizing that he was directly above his previous ledge, he looked down, and to his horror, he saw that the monstrosity from before was standing exactly where Typheus had stopped his first ascent. It was looking around, studying the ground as if to pick up a scent, its wiry hands shifting through the snow. The mere sight of it made Typheus want to look away, and so he did. He took one last fateful look down and saw the monster staring right up at him. It then began its own ascent up the almost flat wall, making good progress, and sending a big chill up Typheus’s spine.

[Typheus]

Typheus walked along the ledge leading up the mountain, hopefully faster than the THING was climbing. It was a nerve racking sight every time Typheus saw it. Monsters were fine…but this was something different. It ate at Typheus’s insides to think about it, and this thought seemed to bring dread even closer as he took a look behind him and saw the monster following him distantly on the broad ledge. It wasn’t just merely following him. It was running after him like its britches were on fire, and this in turn made Typheus run like his were on fire.

He sprinted the rest of the way up the ledge with the monster moving slightly faster. It was gaining on him noticeably and it seemed as if it was determined to kill him. It was close enough now that Typheus could make out more of it. Its entire body was like loosely knit wire and that is what gave it its fuzzy and scribbled effect. This, of course, didn’t exactly make Typheus feel any better about having it chase him clear up a mountain.

There was another cave ahead and it seemed as if he could probably lose the abomination inside if only he could move fast enough to have time to find cover before it got into the cave as well. It was his only chance. It would have been possible for him to stand and fight, but he remembered what Sheringal said. This monster could indeed be very strong.

Darting into the cave, Typheus quickly lit up an orb of light and saw a tall stalagmite sitting on the floor. It was broad enough to hide behind, and Typheus could keep an eye on the doorway to see if the thing followed him in.

He ducked down behind the big stalagmite and he watched the entrance closely. A shadow passed in front of the opening of the cave and Typheus started to track it when another one entered in after it. There were two of them! Typheus lost track of the first one and had to focus on the second. It made him very nervous to do so. It looked around the cavern and started walking around, as if looking for something. It was looking for Typheus. The atmosphere grew dark as it approached his hiding spot. Typheus got ready. He would have to fight it.

The thing approached, about ready to discover Typheus, but he got to it first. A large ball of light erupted in Typheus’s hand and lit up the room momentarily. The shadowy being fell backwards and transformed its right arm into a blade to defend itself with. It was the Faceless! Typheus immediately dimmed the ball of light and stopped to study the Faceless for a moment as it pushed itself back up and took a look around the cavern. Typheus was about to say something to the Faceless when everything seemed to go in slow motion as it happened. The Faceless grabbed him by the shoulder, forced him down to his knees and thrust its sword over his head, stabbing something behind him.

Typheus heard a sickening grinding sound behind him and when he turned around, he saw the monster from before, now with a shadow blade through its head and a large needle falling from its hand. It was going to try and assassinate Typheus from behind while he was dealing with the Faceless.

Now this was an awkward moment. The thing he had fought, chased, and lost, had now saved his life for what seemed to be no reason at all, and Typheus didn’t even have anything to give him in return.

“Thanks,” Typheus said, rising from his knees and dusting himself off.

“Don’t mention it.”

[Typheus]

“Y-you can talk!?” Typheus said someone rudely. He had never heard a Faceless speak. The only exception was their leader who had possessed a human body from his own universe to try and kill Typheus in an all out power struggle. The others, as far as Typheus was concerned, didn’t even seem to have a mouth to speak out of.

“Yeah,” the Faceless said, looking around the cavern as if it was no big deal. “Got a problem with that?” His voice sounded just like a typical human’s. So plain that it was really shocking that Typheus had never heard it before.

“I didn’t think you all were able to talk. I mean I’ve never actually heard it…” Typheus was a bit too embarrassed that he overlooked the possibility of speech communication with his enemy, but he had always figured it was some kind of mental thing where they spoke with their minds.

“Everytime we were near you, we were either dying or fighting for our lives,” he said plainly. “It was kind of pointless to speak in those kind of conditions.”

“True,” Typheus said, hoping to not get on the wrong side of this thing. “So, Faceless, I take it that you saw me on this mountain and came to…do what?”

“First off, my name is Benedict,” he said plainly. “Second, I have absolutely no idea you were on this mountain. I happened to be climbing when I saw that thing running away from me. As it turns out, it happened to be going after you.”

“Thanks, either ways, Benedict.” Typheus shifted nervously. “I take it some elf named Sheringal told you to come up here?”

“You met him? Figures. He sent us up here to meet each other I assume.”

“He sent me up here to learn the truth. Apparently it’s at the summit and I plan on reaching it.”

“He sent me up here to find an ally. I had no idea it would end up being the man who killed off my entire race.” There was a hint of malice in his last sentence.

“Would it make you feel any better if I said that if I find a way back, I’m going to try and do something about it?”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Benedict asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

“Why the hell would I? So you don’t kill me? I’ve had it up to here,” Typheus put his hand above his head, “with this place. You remember what happened with Xem’Zund, right?”

“You lost.”

“Because this place is designed for the good guys to fail.”

“Maybe you just need to get stronger. I’ve managed to take out a large number of bandits since I came here.”

“Maybe…either ways, we should continue upward,” Typheus said, pointing to another exit to the cavern. This one most likely led outside. “You go on ahead, Benedict. I need to do something first.”

Benedict nodded and went towards the exit of the cavern. Typheus pulled out his flute and started playing random tunes again, happy that Benedict wasn’t here to hear him sound like an idiot. His tunes were nothing strong. They faded off into the distance and failed him. It appeared it may not learn his song before he reached the top.

“Typheus, are you coming!?” Benedict called into the cavern.

“Yes!” Typheus called back, pocketing the flute. He still hadn’t gotten used to the Faceless having the ability to talk.

[Typheus]

Typheus and the Faceless, Benedict, continued their climb up the side of the mountain, pausing every once in awhile to rest. It was mostly on Typheus's part, because Benedict was much stronger so he was able to go for longer. It was actually getting on his nerves that Typheus was so weak in this world.

“You think you can pick up the pace?” Benedict asked, standing upright and looking into the horizon, viewing the forest below.

“Think you can slow the hell down?” Typheus suggested, sitting cross-legged, enjoying the same view. “I’m not as young as I used to be.” He wanted to point out the thin air, but then it would sound like he was just complaining.

“Oh, God.” Benedict said, a bit of humor in his voice.

Typheus finally got rested and stood back up, ignoring the soreness in his limbs, and began to trudge up the trail again. What he wasn’t ready for was the fact that the trail ended about fifty meters up. Benedict and Typheus look at each other, and then at the top of the mountain. It was easily about a hundred more yards up, and the odds of death were very high. Typheus had come too far to turn back now. If he gave up at this point in time, there would be nothing stopping him from giving up all together.

Typheus placed his first hand on an outcropping of rock and started to climb, with Benedict climbing next to him. The ascent was breath taking, and Typheus wondered if he would be able to make it all the way up without simply letting go out of exhaustion.

Every rock tried to cut into Typheus’s hands and every foothold threatened to give way. The sun was glaring on Typheus’s back now and was making him hot and cold at the same time. Outside of his coat, he was freezing, but inside he was sweating like it was summer. Benedict, being a living shadow, didn’t have to worry about these things. Typheus started to wonder if Benedict could even feel hot or cold. Looking up at the peak, Typheus saw how lucky he was that the snow was only at the very top, at the summit.

“So, Benedict, what have you been doing this whole time?” Typheus asked, hoping to take his mind off of his aching muscles.

“Not much. After you and that purple eyed freak attacked me, I fled into the woods where I ran into a small elf community. At first, they wanted to kill me, but after I put my hands up in surrender, one of their elders decided to take a look at me. The people of this world are not as fearful of other races as the people of our old one.”

“I can only imagine if they’re hanging around with the same crowd I’ve been with. After departing ways with Lorenor, the purple eyed freak, I got into a bigass battle with a lizard man named Lexxum. Hell, I met one of this place’s gods shortly after you ran off. Some feather bitch named Y’edda. She killed my…friend.”

“She killed Lorenor?”

“No. This was in a pocket dimension. I met something that was apparently supposed to be my guardian. She was named Ramia and she was this enormous white bird. She sacrificed herself to save me by coll-SHIT!”

The ledge that Typheus was standing on gave way and he found himself starting to fall. The world moved in slow motion as he was sure he was about to die. A shadowy hand reached for him and he grabbed it as hard as he could. Benedict was somehow holding onto Typheus while keeping himself up against the mountain. Benedict definitely had the strength of three men.

Typheus took hold of another outcropping and managed to pull himself back onto the side of the mountain. He breathed heavily as adrenaline shot through him and made him shake a bit. The summit was only about twenty yards away now. Typheus would have to steel himself and climb the rest of the way if he wanted to survive.

He was cautious now, tugging on every rock before he pulled himself up. It was very slow, and Benedict stayed beside him just in case he fell again. How Benedict could worry about Typheus, the one who killed off the rest of his race, was beyond him. Maybe the only reason Benedict kept him alive was so Typheus could bring his people back. Either ways, it was good enough for him.

The rest of the climb took about ten minutes with Typheus moving slowly to prevent from slipping again. Snow was making the rocks slippery and now the odds of falling were even greater. Typheus’s fingers gripped like vices on the rocks above him and he made damn sure his feet were secure before pushing himself up. He couldn’t afford to risk anything now.

He placed one hand on the top of the mountain and quickly brushed away any snow in his way. He did the same with his other hand, and when he had a good grip, he pulled himself up to the summit. He stood there, looking at the mountain top in front of him, and heard Benedict pulling himself up behind him. They finally made it.

[Typheus]

Typheus walked towards the center of the mountain top and looked around, expecting to see something that would tell him his truth. He could see nothing except for Benedict who stood out like a sore thumb on this white landscape. Typheus remembered something he wanted to ask him. He had always wondered it ever since the Faceless made themselves known. It just didn’t make sense that they would randomly attack his universe.

"Benedict...why did you all come into our universe?"

"It's simple. Ours was dying and we needed a new place to live."

"As for the fighting?"

"You all were afraid of us and could not coexist. We had no choice if we wanted to live. It took us years to find the universe that you all dwelled in. If we spent our time looking for another where we might be rejected, it might have been too late."

"My sincerest apologies for being...such a complete jackass."

“Just try to bring them back, and I will…probably forgive you.”

Typheus nodded his head and walked towards the edge of the mountain. He could see a tremendous amount of land sprawled out underneath him. A lot of it was forest, but when he walked around to one side, he saw the battlefield from before. The destruction left behind was ridiculous. The wall they had been charged with guarding had been destroyed. Pointless defense indeed.

What was there to look for? What truth was there to be found here? None. There was nothing here that would bring truth to his eyes. He had learned why The Faceless had entered his own universe, but that wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for. He honestly didn’t know WHAT he was hoping for.

A sudden idea came to him to play his flute, but he didn’t know how. What would he play? How would he do it? Never the less, his hands pulled the flute out of his jacket and he put it up to his lips. Something was guiding his fingers as he began to play. The song coming out was nothing he knew of, and it was long and dramatic. He could have sworn he also heard a bird singing in the background as he continued to play. It was simply beautiful, and soon, he saw a vision.

It was the people still fighting back against the zombies. They were losing, but none of them were running away. They weren’t giving up either. They protected their lands no matter what state it was in and they never gave up.

The image of the wolf came back to him. He had saved it regardless of what it was. It cried out for his help and so he helped it.

The image of the old man also came back to him. He had given Typheus the chance to give up. He had given him the chance to walk away with enough money to never have to lift a finger again. Typheus had denied the offer, because he couldn’t give up now that he had a job to do.

The faces of the people in hiding during the zombie attacks came to him. Some civilians had taken up arms and were fighting the horde even though they had not been trained to do so. They were all fighting for their freedom and their lives and the lives of others. They were weaker than he was, yet the thought of giving up had never crossed their minds. They were defending their friends and families even if they weren’t the most powerful things in the universe.

Images of all the people in this world that fought on came to him. He saw that they held the fighting spirit that he had lost in the battle. They fought on while he did not. If he did not fight on, then he was weaker than any of them and would continue to be so for the rest of his life.

When the song ended, he found himself staring at a long stone staircase that went from the summit back down to the bottom and ended pretty close to Sheringal’s home. Without a second though, he started his descent.

[Typheus]

“Sheringal!?” Typheus called as he got close to the elf’s house. “We’re back! Yes I mean ‘we’ you clever bastard!”

Typheus opened the door and found Sheringal sitting in the same chair by the fire place, playing his harp. He stopped abruptly and turned to greet Typheus and Benedict. Both of whom were tired and looking for a place to rest. Typheus moreso than Benedict.

“I take it your journey went well?” Sheringal said, going back to his harp playing. Typheus and Benedict immediately felt rejuvenated. This bard was a master of his arts. An art that he let Typheus in on.

“Yep.” Typheus said, almost child-like. “We managed to get up to the top without a major problem.

“Oh, by the way, did you meet another lad that I sent up there? Not the prettiest of sorts, but he had a good heart in him. He carried a healing syringe with him wherever he went.”

Typheus suddenly looked very pale, and Sheringal immediately began laughing.

“Just joking. That was one of the tests of the mountain as I’m sure you’re aware. Since you two are back in one piece, I take it you passed. Oh and just to let you know, the gold that the old man had would have disappeared the moment you left the mountain, leaving you to fight that abomination at its full strength. The one you killed was much weaker than it would have been had you given up.”

Typheus gave the pack that he had back to Sheringal. Sheringal cast it towards the wall of his house and then got into position to play his harp again.

“I take it you two have some business to take care of?” Sheringal said, gently stroking his harp. He abruptly stopped and his eyes narrowed in deep thought for the first time. “Typheus…I’ve been thinking and something doesn’t seem right.”

“What is it?” Typheus asked.

“I’ve been looking into your past, use your imagination on how, and I’ve seen what Y’edda did. Y’edda doesn’t operate like that, nor do any of the other Thaynes. They would never consider hopping into another universe to bring in troops. There are rules you know, and that is one of them. Unless something has drastically changed, she would have no reason to do something like that.”

Typheus wondered why she would have shown up, then. The wanted Ramia, or more preferably, her feathers, but if she couldn’t use them to go into another universe, then what was the point?

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” Typheus said, recalling the event. “But no promises.”

“Naturally. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Sheringal said as he went back to playing his harp, leaving Benedict and Typheus to make their own way, or so they thought.

They were just about out the door when Sheringal spoke again. “Journey to the Fallien desert. Go to the city called Irrakam. You should be fine from there. Telling you more would be a bit much don’t you think?”

Typheus nodded and exited the house with a new thought in mind. He wanted to fight and win. He wanted to fight to try and win. He wanted to fight…period. He and Benedict had a new goal in mind. They were going to Fallien, to Irrakam. There, they would find a clue to the end of their journey, or they would die trying.

“Typheus?” Benedict asked.

“Yes?”

“Where is Fallien?”

“I have no idea…hey Sheringal!”

Fin.
****************SPOILS******************

001. Golden Flute - Given to him by Sheringal so that he could perform basic bard magic.


Typheus also gained a new comrade. A Faceless named Benedict.
Name: Benedict
Age: Around 30. The Faceless age strangely
Race: Faceless
Hair Color: None
Eye Color: None
Height: Around 6’2”
Weight: 143
*Occupation: None

*Personality: Calm and collected. He typically does not favor straying from the path set before him so that someone can be helped, but he will eventually go along with doing it anyways. Not rude in the least bit, but he is stern.

Appearance: The Faceless have no color in their form and so therefore have no vivid description. They are basically walking silhouettes that are able to shape-shift their limbs into various weapons

History: Original home was a dying universe that, due to a series of unfortunate events, started to end long before its time. To survive, his race tried to move to another universe, but due to their appearance, their first encounters ended in bloodshed, and so they decided the only way to survive was to move into the new universe only after the current denizens have been killed off.
This resulted in failure as Typheus was chosen as the guardian of the new universe and proved too much for their plan. After their tactics to get two warring sides to kill eachother failed, they assaulted his universe directly in full force. Typheus, in his blind rage and overzealousness, destroyed every last member of the Faceless race, removing them from existence.
Benedict met up with Typheus when he and Typheus climbed the same mountain to find out their truths. He did not disclose his truth to Typheus yet.

Skills: He is stronger than a human and is able to turn his arms into weapons like blades or axes. They have about the same strength as a steel weapon and if they break, he’ll have to regrow his limbs over time.

Equipment: None

*Familiars: None

[Ataraxis]

Quest Judging
Chasing Shadows

Why hello, Typheus. We meet again, but this time, you will not live to tell the tale. This will be a massacre.

Just kidding! I personally loved this quest, but now let’s see what the rubric has to say about it!

STORY

Continuity ~ 6.5/10. I’ve obviously read your quest with Lexxum, so I’m aware of everything that happened before the start of this. However, I’ll judge your solo as if I had never read a word of ‘The Dead and Undying’.

You did well with the recap of the Faceless’ extinction, and how Typheus was involved with it. I had a generally good feeling for this category, but what offset it was how this story began, precisely. You mention Xem’Zûnd’s forces, but there’s no mention of how he had escaped Valinatal’s destruction and what he was doing there, defending the elves, until the last few posts. In short, I wasn’t too sure where he came from, but I did have a good feel of where he was going. The instances where you mentioned Y’edda, Lorenor and Ramia were still a bit confusing, but you did clarify a lot more.

Setting ~ 5/10. This wasn’t a quest where I could say I was swept away by the setting, but I did enjoy the instances where it was described. I didn't really have lot of trouble imagining the forest, the mountain, the campfire, or even the flow of time here, but your choice of setting itself wasn't very evocative. The scaling of the mountain was rather vivid, and counts as an interaction. Some of the descriptions were, however, a bit vague, and I had to use my imagination a bit more than I wanted to.

Pacing ~ 7/10. In any other quest, I would have docked points for this being so short, but it was very strange how the length fit this little odyssey of his. This quest was a perhaps the typical search for enlightenment, but you pulled it off very well. You kept my attention almost all of the time, and until the end. The only qualms I had were a few instances where the pacing became a bit wobbly, notably where the rich man came in. He came off as a bit too obvious, and that broke the tension for me. The big reveal about the truth was a teensy bit of a let-down, which cut the tension too. The reason you didn’t get a higher score was because most of the incidents were a tad too predictable, but otherwise, thumbs up!

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 7/10. I think you really did well here. Compared to his dialogue in ‘The Dead and Undying’ it feels as if he’s found a new dimension to himself, and when he speaks it doesn’t feel scripted at all. It wasn’t bland, it wasn’t farfetched – sometimes, it was a bit predictable, but that’s okay. Ialso enjoyed how you made each NPC talk differently, so as to give them more depth and a sensation of uniqueness. Seringal was perhaps written on the template of the mysterious wise man, but I liked his sense of humor. The man in the cave wasn’t as enjoyable, buut he was a bit more than just a plot device. Benedict is great, I love his sarcasm, subtle or not. At times, his dialogue felt like it was a bit too much, but I think the reason why he’s not madder at Ty is because he’s naturally aloof.

Action ~ 6/10. Perhaps Ty was a bit too quick to jump on this journey: he didn’t really ask himself a lot of things about the trip before setting on it. The saving of the she-wolf, the dilemma between reaching material comfort or spiritual understanding, as well as the battle against the wire-child were things I’ve read before a lot in similar stories, but they were decently played and made sense. Benedict acted differently than how I had expected the last survivor of a race usually would before the man who caused all of his grief, and it felt a bit awkward at times. I understand it’s in his personality, but the struggle between helping and abandoning Ty was too short and easy in my eyes. The way they set without a question to Fallien without a question other than ‘where’ was a bit odd.

Persona ~ 7/10. Each of your characters’ personality was well-defined, but they weren’t portrayed as efficiently as they could have been. Seringal’s wisdom was interesting and he had a bit of an eccentric air, but he would have shone more with a role less linear than a spiritual guide who happens to be a hermit in a forest. I’ve also mentioned that Benedict seemed to adapt too easily to his circumstances, to a point where it feels a bit contrived. Faceless he may be, but there are ways for him to express emotion (reluctance to answer questions or even speak with Ty, body language, etc) that you unfortunately did not use. Ty was true to his character, more so than he had been in your previous quest, but personality-wise, he started out as more of a blank slate, filling up as the quest went on, instead of someone who already had quite a lot of baggage after having seen so many worlds.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 5/10. I liked how this all felt like a dream, where everything was a metaphor and a test for his resolve. In terms of other rhetorical devices, there wasn’t much to look out for. There was humor in this, though, perhaps a bit less than n you last quest, but I could feel it quite nicely. And bleh, you used ‘Fin’ again =p

Mechanics ~ 6/10. Definite improvement from the last time. You still have a few typos, some awkward wording and instances of shaky syntax, but it didn’t substantially detract my attention. For example, a few things from my correction document:


The load straight road ahead seemed longer with every step (3) Not too sure what you mean by load straight road

trying to prove her immortality, escaped from the pocket dimension that Ramia collapsed in on itself.(5) awkward wording

“Ramia, Ramia, where art thou, Ramia?” (5) Guessing it’s the Romeo, Romeo line. By the way, in the original, it’s wherefore, which means why.

said someone rudely (9) somewhat

It appeared it may not learn his song before he reached the top. (9) He might not

Never the less (11) Nevertheless

Clarity ~ 7/10. There were a few moments when your sentences idn’t make sense to me until the third read (sometimes due to wrong wording) but all in all, I didn’t have too much trouble understanding the narrative. The story itself was clear, save for the points I’ve already mentioned in continuity.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 6.5/10. I liked seeing this deeper side to Typheus, and how he dealt with this part-dream, part-nightmare kind of journey. I was a bit queasy because the progression itself sounded so familiar, like something I’d read in those old Chinese stories, but I have to say I really enjoyed the read. Thanks a lot, Ty!

TOTAL ~ 63/100. Congratulations!

EXP Rewards

Typheus Orikoma gains: 1170 XP!

GP Rewards

Typheus Orikoma gains: 120 GP, mysteriously found in his pockets! He suspects that the man from the cave wasn’t such a cheapskate after all!

Other Rewards

Typheus Orikoma gains: A Golden Flute!
Typheus also gains: An ally, Benedict the Faceless (NPC)!

The NPC is granted, but is subject to minor edits or full re-approval upon level up, if the RoG staff deems it necessary.

FINAL NOTES

Congratulations, Typheus, for a very good quest. You’re improving faster than the eye can follow!

I should nip you in the bud before you become a threat…

Kidding! Or am I?

[Karuka]

EXP/GP added!