prof | Let's Play The Spirit Engine 2

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Chapter 8: The Wyrm Turns

Part 3: Thing from Beyond the Stars

And here we are.

Oh PyanPau! Jaques saved me! He told me where you'd landed and we came as soon as we could. We have to warn you about the ship.
Things are not as they seem. You're being deceived! The spirit that calls itself Darak is the creature masterminding your torment!

I don't understand. How did you get here so quickly, Isabelle?

Don't get any closer, PyanPau. Let me handle this.

No, I'm too late! Ionae has fallen under its evil influence. PyanPau, please, you have to help me!

Ionae?! What have you done?!

It's alright, PyanPau. Stay calm. That isn't Isabelle.

Lowly motes! You flit around me like moths drawn to the flame. You could have crawled from this place whilst you had the chance. But you pitiful creatures deny the weakness of your will.
Now you shall be my playthings for so long as your flaking husks can permit. Oh, the fun we shall have once I have finished breaking your pale little bodies.

Is that tremor I detect in your voice, beast? Why the sudden concern? Where are your illusions to shield you now?

No questions, Denever. I don't want to hear another word from this monster. Let's be rid of it now, and make sure that we three are the last to ever suffer its lies.

I think you just read my mind, PyanPau. Let's carve this thing up.

You dare threaten me?! Arrogant little insects! I shall rend your feeble minds and ascend from this cursed prison to bathe in starlight once more!

BOSS BATTLE
Ick Thelloth

Here's the hard part of this fight!

Whoever that light is shining on takes back some of the damage inflicted on the enemy.

And the light moves constantly, meaning you have to be nice and careful when you attack and when you heal.

OW

We're good, we're good.

This is a time to avoid attacking, if we can... the counter is True Damage, meaning that it ignores chi.

Even without that crap, Ick Thelloth is pretty formidable!

His magic bursts can break 1000 total damage if they all hit.

This battle is as grueling as it is long, what with that initial HP over twelve thousand.

But eventually...

The asshole is slain!

Are you sure it's really dead? This could be another one of its tricks.

I'm prepared to let it lie for a while before we have another hack at it. This final strain has been too much. I can't go another step.

We're all exhausted, but we're still alive. This awful day has taken a heavy toll, but I think the creature may have unintentionally done me a favor.
I have had many lessons in humility during my time on Medea, and they have all been ultimately productive.

This is as pwoerless as I have been since I was cast out into this world upon the cold, rainy Appelican moors in an unfamiliar body. Blinded by the darkness and frozen by the rain, I experienced sheer terror for the first time.
Hurt, frightened, and utterly disoriented, I staggered and crawled towards the lights I saw in the distance, convinced that I could find graveful servants within the house that came looming out of the mist.

They greeted me the same way I now realize any family would greet a crazy-eyed, winged woman, clothed head to toe in nothing but mud who burst into their home screeching some hideous alien tongue. With pitchforks.
As I fled back across the moor, stumbling blindly through the rain with torch-lights and raised voices at my heels, I finally became aware of...

Are you laughing, PyanPau?! I'm opening my heart to you here. This is a sobering tale of strife and humiliation. It isn't supposed to be funny.

I'm sorry Ionae, really I am. You're the Beast of Banke Moor? I remember reading about it in the international newsprint a few years back. I'd heard you were a lot taller.

And able to breath gouts of bright, blue flame. THey had a wonderful artist's rendition. I wish I'd cut it out and kept it now.

Yes, well, after that I kept a much lower profile. I'd managed to almost entirely avoid dealing with the human race until a fortnight ago when I became entangled with you two idiots.

I had thought that this awkward state was only a temporary setback, a problem I could overcome if I could just stay alive until the Council returned me to power. I never seriously imagined that I might choose to keep it.

My new mortality is something that I have to come to terms with. I must or I will go mad. I have no hope of escaping it anymore, and I think that reality is just starting to sink in. How do you manage it?

Everyone finds their own way, Ionae, with rationality or with faith. I'm a religious man myself, so I cannot offer you much more than goodwill.

Faith... that's still a new concept to me. I almost pity the worm. It had so much power and potential, yet it wasted it all on malice.

In the end it died alone at the hands of its victims, leaving nothing to this world but that bloated corpse. I used to think that such power was its own reward, too. I was incapable of empathy.
Would such a fate have awaited me if I'd returned to my reign in the depths of the Counterplanes? I've been so fortunate to realize that this rebirth is a blessing, and not a curse.

As we are fortunate to have you here, Ionae. THe Counterplanes' loss is our gain.

They never did show me the proper appreciation. Long may the fools suffer without me. What did you see when the monster spoke to you, PyanPau? I'm curious.

I saw my Master back at the Academy. I saw what I fear when I return home. Rejection, failure and shame. My journey has been long and interesting, but unproductive.
I have seen so many new and wondrous things right up to this moment, yet every step I walk, I feel as though I have been treading in another man's footsteps. I have learned much, but I have nothing to teach.
And to compound my misery, my diary has been soaked! Look at it. A year's worth of notes, all of my memories and thoughts run away with the ink. So much work undone by a few drops of water.

Oh. I'm sorry, PyanPau. I know it meant a lot to you. Have you tried drying it out? Maybe some of it can still be saved.

No. It is ruined. I will return to the Academy now empty-handed and empty-headed. I cannot continue with my enlightenment like this. I'll be the laughing stock of my year!

I think you're being too hard on yourself, PyanPau. This assignment might not have even been set with success in mind. As you have said, sometimes the journey is more important than the destination.

What do you mean, Denever? Please elaborate.

Maybe it's more important for you to realize how little you know than to see how much you can learn. Coming to terms with your limitation can sometimes improve you more than a vain search for hidden strengths.
If that is the lesson, then returning empty-handed is not such a disaster. You may not need to live up to your masters to justify your place at the Academy, PyanPau. We all start as blank slates.

The aim of the Journey is to realize one's insignificance? Would they really set us such a task?
The Journey has always beens hrouded in mystery, and I could find no one willing to discuss it in detail, not even Grandfather.

Now isn't that a surprise. I would say it's because you can't tell yourself something you don't already know, but I don't know what to believe anymore.
You're more than just your book, PyanPau. You don't need to be clever or insightful to make a valid contribution with your life. Sometimes you just need to live.

You've already proved yourself to us. I'm starting to think of this place as my home, now that I've been made to feel welcome. I would like to think that you might call it home too, if the Academy won't accept you.

Thank you, my friends. I will have to think about the meaning of this some more. In the meantime, Denever, tell us, waht did you see? You haven't said anything yet.

I wouldn't want to bore you with the details. The creature could not tease any thoughts from me that I have not already entertained. It was the vividness of the experience that made it so frightening.

Now, enough talk. This brief rest has been good to me, and I feel suitably recovered. How about you two?

For goodness sake, Denever. We've been sat down for five minutes after days on our feet. My own definition of 'suitably recovery' would entail several months of lying flat on my back under the sun.
But I have gotten my breath back, and that, much as it pains me to say it, is probably enough for now.

Me too. Let's get out of here at last, and find our way to Longreach.

Good. We can still get there in time. I promise you, Ionae, when this is done we shall find that sun together, the three of us.

I'll hold you to that promise, Denever. If ever a holiday has been more earned, I would like to meet the poor souls who suffered for it and shake their hands.

End of chapter!

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