"fair enough, It's not like I'm planning on fighting anyone anyway. Plus, with the changeling species, I can fit in anywhere." Alyx smiled to himself at that. Hopefully, with a little planning and foresight, he could avoid being tied up and dragged to a random village. Though admittedly, that had more or less worked out for him. Still, it would be better to avoid it if he could.
"So, taking the changeling tier six upgrade, what exactly is that going to do to me? Will it affect just my body or my mind as well?"
Alyx just shrugged in response before standing up off the cool stone floor of the temple and making his way over to where the undead werewolf had dropped the big magic lance. Shaking his head as he approached it, the damn thing looked way more intimidating now that he wasn't high on adrenaline.
"That is a big fucking lance. I can not believe that stabbed me. Repeatedly no less." Reaching down, Alyx found that even with his [Minor Strength], the weapon was weighty and difficult to wield. "Hmm, maybe after I class up, this will be more useful."
"Guess I'm just scared. But as a better man than me once said, muddle forward and never look back."
Alyx brought up the floating text with a thought, watching it float there in his mind's eye.
S.A.A.T, the odd little dagger, had started singing again as Alyx felt a fire spread through his body. It wasn't a painful burning, much more akin to eating well made spicey food than that of letting your hand linger too long in the woodstove. In a way, it almost felt like a cleansing flame, removing impurities from his body as it passed through him.
< The curse of Undeath spreads!>
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
If the first part was fire, the second felt like ice. Pouring into Alyx's veins were two warring currents, churning within him and mutating his body. Alyx stood, locked in place, body unable to move as what felt like a war raged within him, both curses seeking to take over his body.
Alyx watched, trapped in his own unmoving body as black ichor began to seep from his skin. It did not cling to him or even his clothing. What it did do was stain his skin grey, as it dripped down onto the ground. It felt like someone was squeezing it out of him, forcing it out of his very pores. The ichor was one of the most disgusting things he'd ever smelt or had this displeasure of looking at. Some detached part of him was impressed by that. After all, he'd been dealing with the destroyed bodies of undead for the last day. Another much more active part of him was horrified as it puddled beneath his feet and seeped into his boots.
The two surging forces within him began to settle down, though it felt less like peace within him and more like an armistice until one could gain an advantage over the other.
Alyx was eventually able to move again, though it sounded like he was breaking free of ice. Each movement was eliciting a loud crack as he began forcing himself to move, looking at the undead pallor of his own hands as they closed into fists, the knuckles popping as Alyx shook with rage.
"What...the fuck,'cough' was that? S.A.A.T WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?!
"Stuff it S.A.A.T. And stuff your gods." Alyx brought up his class options. If this was going to be the kind of world where gods wandered about making bullshit curses, then Alyx would take every opportunity to spit in the eyes of the gods.
Alyx hated undead. He didn't like killing them in video games, and he hadn't liked fighting real ones either. He had always found them gross, be it movies, books, games. Anytime undead came up, Alyx would swear he could smell rotting flesh. He knew it was psychosomatic but knowing never made the horrible smell go away, and now...now he had been turned undead by the gods.
Alyx had been willing to roll with waking up in a forest, and he felt like he had handled that well. He'd dealt with fist fighting to death an Owlbear like a champ. Shot with arrows and kidnapped? No problem, He'll walk it off. Forced into a life or death situation by a crazy racist grandma? Sure fine, it's a big fuck you, but whatever, it got handled. Get cursed with undeath and lycanthropy? Fine...he was finding a way around it. But to be offered help by the servant of one of those gods, and for that to be bullshit? Nah, you can go fuck yourself.
"Bet you bitches didn't know this about me, but before I moved to Maine, I was from Florida."
"Florida man strikes again, now curse this."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Julis and Andrea had been waiting outside of the temple now for several hours. Both rangers had heard the roar of Alyx's Owlbear form from within the temple. That had been a long time ago, however, and even Julius was starting to look nervous. They had it on good word that the undead priest inside could no longer regenerate, but still, the fight between the two was clearly over.
Seeing as Alyx had failed to emerge even after several hours, he was likely either too wounded to move or dead. The latter being the more likely two of Julius's opinion. Yet it was Andera who spoke.
"Julis, what the hell is that? Is that the Priest?" With alarm, Julius turned his gaze to the temple entrance to find a massive werewolf with grey fur walking out of it, carrying the [Lance of the Moon] over its shoulder, casual as could be.
[Hawks sight] Julius activated one of his skills to get a better look at the werewolf as it began to walk down the steps of the temple two at a time. Shaking his head, he frowned and pulled back his bowstring. "That's not the priest; there are no wounds on it, and I can see its chest rising and falling. Undead don't breathe.
"Andrea looked startled at that, looking from the werewolf to Julius and back again." You can't mean to tell me you think that's the human from before? There is no way he beat the priest and lived! He looks unharmed for spirit's sake."
Julius shrugged and eyed his bow, and then Andrea's considering the orders he was given, worried now about whether or not he would be capable of carrying them out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alyx didn't need to breathe anymore. His chest rose and fell out of habit as he walked down the temple steps, looking for the elven rangers as he held the lance in one hand and his dagger in the other.
"Well, at least it's honest, which your gods clearly aren't, and frankly, I'm still on the fence about you S.A.A.T. But you can show me my stats and tell me about the world a bit, so I'm going to keep you around for now.