Chapter 110: The Implock – Chapter 104 – “Six Feet Under”

∼ Six Feet Under ∼

Chapter - 104

"By the Grey Mother's tits! What in the abyss happened 'ere?" Short, stocky, and with a beard as mighty as the stench of rotgut wafting off him, a dwarf stood on the precipice of a cliff along a mountain pass, staring down into the valley that was once lush and grand. Now but a pile of rubble. A cloud of dust rose high to the sky, blotting out most of the morning sun.

The explosion had been heard for miles upon miles. No dwarf or gnome worth their stature hadn't heard it. It had even sent the strongholds littering Argon's Spine into a state of panic, fearing that the mana vein to be acting up. However, their pyres, ever blazing strong with the mercurial energy of the world, assured them that not to be the case.

From Harj'vol to Muz'duú, most all the dwarven cities had mobilized to inspect.

Had it been a powerful monster awakening from its slumber? Two masters of Argon battling out? A mana anomaly?

Coming upon this sight of utter destruction, it definitely had been a mana anomaly alright. But just what had caused it? Or rather - who?

As other dwarves joined the first to peer down at the destruction, they all bore a mix of astonishment and frowns.

"Gúndri, what do the stones tell ye?" One of the older dwarves asked, the age in his beard as white as new-fallen snow.

The dwarf spoken to - an even stockier fellow compared to the rest - lifted a carved rock over the plummeting edge, the rune upon it lighting up with a mix of colors that only the runecarver could interpret. "A powerful spell gone awry," He answered curtly, hiding away the rock in a pouch on his belt lined with various other inscribed items.

"It was powerful alright. But a mage capable of doing this - and then messing it up? Eh, that doesn't sound very plausible, now does it?"

"You think those pansy wand-fiddlers from Arcanum overstepped their bounds again?" Another of the dwarves grunted with disdain.

"I thought they were the tinkers' problem. They shouldn't be this far north." The one from before chimed in.

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"Humans, gnomes - bwah! I do no care. This be a Ravenclaw problem. Their territory. Their mess." The old one scoffed sagely. He nodded towards the distance, a contingent of heavily armored dwarves marching towards the destruction. "We should get a move on. The others clans will be here soon too."

...

Nyx's eyes opened to darkness and rock. But the fact he could open his eyes at all was a good sign, he supposed. He was covered in a sticky mixture of dried blood, dust, and other unidentifiable things. But he was alive. At least... he thought he was...

Looking around, he found himself in a dome of dirt, rock, and rubble. On the inside of the dome was a faint transparent layer of mana, barely there. Barely visible. Yet, it held. The spell! It had worked!

An improvised version of a barrier and a mana discharge.

By pulling on the enormous amounts of mana drawn by the anomaly Nyx had inadvertently created, he had funneled it all into the spell rather than let it burst his core. And him with it... By the use of his split mind, the thing that had nearly killed him before the anomaly itself had, projecting his mind within his manifestation and staying conscious in the physical world, he had created a link. A bridge so to speak. One where the inordinate amounts of lethal mana could pass - as if a leak in a dam.

It could've gone wrong in a million different ways. But he succeeded. He had survived. By the sheer strength of his will - or the hubris of his pride. Nevertheless, Nyx had completed his first [Words of Power] spell, a rune-based incantation, evident by not only the fact that he was still living and breathing but also because of the prompt awaiting his notice.

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