Home Artists Posts Import Register

Content

The strange girl lets out an excited yelp, hardly able to contain herself.


“Ah~!” she cries in excitement. “I can’t wait!” she says, humming to herself as she walks around the room. The pitter-patter of stubby legs, together with the rustling of foliage fills the space.


Fresh groans, coming back to wakefulness. She feels deeply nauseous and the world still seems to be spinning, despite the fact that she’s laying on the floor. She lifts her gaze, looking up through the blurry vision at the sight of a stubby silhouette, walking around ahead of herself, together with another. The springan, slender and elegant, hums with a girl’s voice as it works, preparing something in the stone fountain, atop of the tower upstairs.


The creature stops bobbing around on its feet, its humming stopping, as it turns around to look at her, perhaps having felt her watching it.


The springan tilts its head, the blossoms hanging at an angle. “Hi, Fresh!” says the springan, ringing out with a familiar voice, before it turns back to its work, starting to hum again.


The moonlight shines in through the opened slot in the ceiling, coating them all with a sparse glow. “Bring me the other stuff,” says the springan. The healer-spriggan nods and runs down to the tower to grab what was pointed out to it, sparing only a moment’s glance towards her as she lays there.


Fresh blinks, trying to straighten her vision of the world out. Were they poisoned? In fear, she looks around, sighing in relief a second later as she sees her friends sitting downstairs in the kitchen, leaned against the cabinets. They’re still breathing.


“Peridot,” she says, turning back to the springan, whose voice she has now recognized.


The springan, Peridot, looks over her shoulder. “Hi! Did you sleep well?” she asks, returning to her work in the fountain. “I may have put a bit too much mushroom powder in those cookies. Sorry about that.”


Fresh tries to sit upright, but fails. Her arms are tied behind her back and her feet are tied together. “What is this?” she asks. “What are you doing? Let me go!”


“Don’t worry about it,” says Peridot. “Just relax. Everything is gonna be fine.” The springan taps the stick that she’s using to stir the fountain-water against the stone basin a few times. The healer-spriggan runs back upstairs, giving her the materials she asked for. “Took you long enough.”


“P- pakew…”


Peridot takes the bag, that Fresh recognizes as crystal-dust, from their collection of materials in the basement and begins sprinkling it into the sunwater.


“Don’t mess with that!” snaps Fresh. “It’s dangerous!”


“Don’t fuss,” says Peridot. “It’s going to be fine,” says the springan. Moonlight shines in through the gap in the ceiling as the clouds part. “Well. For me.”


Fresh narrows her eyes, trying to get up. But she’s bound tight. “Peridot! What did you do?!” she asks, struggling. “Why did you poison me and my friends?!”


Peridot turns around.

 

 

(Peridot) has kicked (Fresh) for {6} damage!

HP: 25/31

 

 

Fresh winces, coughing, her face tearing up as the wooden leg pulls its back out from the side of her neck. She yelps as a stubby hand grabs her hair, pulling her head upward. “Your friends?” asks Peridot incredulously. “Are you serious?” she asks, yanking her hair to turn her head to look down off of the side of the tower. “I’ve been watching you this whole time. You think I actually believe that you deserve to have friends?”


“Huh?! Ow!”


Peridot yanks her back, dropping her head down as a strand of hair rips out of it. “Every day they’re fighting about something. Every day, somebody is sad about something,” says Peridot, walking back to the fountain. “Do you know how often I sat with Jubilee who was sitting in worry, alone in the library?” asks the girl. “How many times I ran after Basil, when she went to cry in the bathroom, because you’re playing dumb?” asks the springan. “How many times I went with Shamrock to fight in the dungeon, while you were lounging around in bed in your underwear?!” she asks. “You’re not their friend! You’re just…” It returns to its work. “- You’re just the worst. I used to think that you were great.” Peridot swings her arm out, spinning the telescope around. “But now after being stuck with you, I finally see what they’re all too afraid to say,” she says. “You’re just a terrible, horrible thing that needs to be gotten rid of.”


“Peridot!” yells Fresh. “What happened to you?” she asks. “Why are you doing this?”


“The fountain is replacing you. Consider your contract terminated,” replies the springan gleefully, stirring the potion that it’s making. “Once you’re gone,” it says. “I’m going to be taking your place and I’m going to be a much better friend than you ever were.”


“That’s not how it works!” argues Fresh. “You can’t just make someone be your friend!”


“I can’t,” relents the springan. “But the fountain can.”


“It’s just using you, Peridot!” says Fresh. “It’s going to destroy the world and you with it!”


Peridot giggles. “No, see,” she says. “It promised that after this is all taken care of, that me, Jubilee, Basil and Shamrock can go back to our old world,” she says. “It’ll let me take them back and keep them!” says the springan gleefully. “I’m going to make them happy!” exclaims the girl excitedly. “I’m going to do all of the things that you’re too STUPID to do for them. I’m going to let them have my body and my heart and I’m going to live the life of love that you stole from me!”


“I didn’t do anything!” protests Fresh. “Peridot! I warned you about that apple!”


“SHUT UP!” yells Peridot, glaring at her. “You killed my brother!”


“You hated him!”


Peridot turns around, clutching the long stick that she’s been using to stir the cauldron. Several cracks fill the room, shooting through her skull.

 

 

(Peridot) has hit (Fresh) for {2} damage with her [Stick]

(Peridot) has hit (Fresh) for {1} damage with her [Stick]

(Peridot) has hit (Fresh) for {3} damage with her [Stick]

HP: 19/31

 

 

Fresh winces, a ringing fills her ears, her face red and bleeding a little from where the stick whipped her just around her eyes.


“I wish the fountain could just do it now,” hisses Peridot, raising her arm again. “I wish it could just take over my friends now, so that they could just… tear you apart,” she says. “But, a woman’s work is never done, right?” she asks, lifting the stick again into the air, narrowing her eyes. “I’m a good friend. Not like you. So I’ll do it for them.”


“- Pakew…” says the healer-spriggan, grabbing Peridot’s arm and stopping her from hitting her again.


Peridot hisses, yanking her arm free and turning away, going back to the cauldron. “I can’t wait to get out of this body,” she says. “The worst part is that you didn’t even realize it. How anyone as dumb as you got this far is beyond me,” says Peridot.


Fresh closes her eyes, thinking for a moment as she tries to clear her head. She needs a plan. The cursed apple… the name of the curse did reference something about plants or a garden or something, didn’t it? And the house-spriggen, now the springan, Peridot, didn’t give experience points when killed. That’s something that only happens with people. The crystal-ball… she had seen a vision of herself walking through the fair with a familiar girl, hand in hand. She had thought it was Basil, but looking back on it, during that day at the festival, she was holding Peridot’s hand while they were walking.


She really is an idiot. Fresh struggles, trying to break free. She should have seen this coming. All of that reading, all of that training and for what? She’s still just as dumb and useless as ever.


The fountain atop the tower begins to bubble and to froth, water splashing out in all directions as the direct moonlight lands down through the hole in the ceiling, shining into the sunwater.


“Ah~” says Peridot excitedly. “I think we’re about ready.” She turns to the healer-spriggan. “Go get a cup and some mineral water from the basement.”


“Pakew…” says the healer-spriggan, running downstairs again, sparing a sad look her way as it passes.


Peridot sighs in relief, lifting her hands to play with the blossoms on her head as if they were strands of long hair she were setting right. “I’m so excited,” she says, smiling. “I hope it hurts. I hope it hurts a lot,” she says gleefully, watching the healer-spriggen run to the kitchen, pulling a chair over towards itself to climb up onto the counters to get a glass, before making its way to the basement. “I hope you lay here kicking and screaming for the next few hours,” she says in delight. “Because I’m going to sit here and watch.”


“Do you really think the fountain is going to hold up its end of your deal?!” asks Fresh. “Peridot! You saw my memories! You know that you can’t trust it!”


“I SAID SHUT UP!” yells Peridot, lifting the stick with both hands and pressing it down into her back. Fresh clenches her teeth together, fighting down a scream.

 

 

(Springan) has stabbed (Fresh) for {7} damage with her [Stick]

[Applied Status: Bleeding 1]

HP: 11/31

 

 

She rips the stick out. “You’re lucky you’re such a weak piece of trash,” says Peridot, grabbing her hair a second time. “If you had more health, I’d shove this stick right down your throat and twist it until your stomach tied into a knot.” The springan lets go of Fresh, looking back over the tower. “I hate you so much, I can’t stand it.” The sound of small footsteps comes back into the room as the healer-spriggan returns from the basement with the final materials for the ritual.


Fresh continues to try and fight her way out of her binds, but they’re done too tightly. She isn’t strong enough to break free from them. She looks over the tower. Her friends are still asleep.


“Pakew,” says the healer-spriggan, handing Peridot a bottle of water from the roots of the world-tree. She snatches it, returning to the fountain, slowly pouring it into the water. Fresh lifts her eyes, looking past the healer-spriggan towards the stone basin. Her eyes go wide as she sees a glint, shimmering in the moonlight. The healer-spriggan quietly drops something behind its back. Fresh crawls forward, sliding it beneath herself with the side of her arm.


“I can’t just kill you, obviously. Since you can respawn,” says Peridot. “But I can once we get rid of that class of yours,” she says. “Magic is so convenient, isn’t it?” she asks. “It’s the one thing I’ll be sad about, since we’re going to leave this world. But that’s fine,” says Peridot, humming to herself. “As long as I have my friends, I’ll be happy, even without magic.” She takes the glass, carefully dunking it into the basin of bubbling water, holding it up towards the moonlight to look at it.


“Finally…” says Peridot. “A new life… I’ve been waiting for so long,” she says excitedly, her voice cracking. “I’m finally going to be happy!” Peridot beams, turning her head towards her.

 

 

 [Purewater]{Unique}

A unique blend of the rarest waters in the world, bathed in both sun and moonlight.

When drunk: Removes all SOUL-based attributes, abilities, classes, perks and values when consumed. Resets HEALTH-POINTS to 0.

 

 

The springan turns towards her, bending down with the glass in her hand. “Bye, Fresh,” says Peridot, lifting the glass. “I’ll be sure to never talk about you,” beams Peridot. “Hopefully they won’t remember y -”


Glass shatters, water splashes everywhere in an instant as a sudden noise fills the room. Peridot yelps, the water of the potion splashing over her body and petals. Fresh ducks out of the way, wincing, opening an eye to carefully look at the healer-spriggan who is standing in front of her, blocking her from the splashing of the water.


Her eyes drift to the side, catching a glimpse of a crossbow bolt, embedded into the body of the telescope, having flown through the air from below.


Peridot screams, writhing as both the glass and the water go into her eyes and mouth. A pair of boots run up the stairs of the tower and Fresh barely has time to try and get up, before a pike slashes just past her, pinning the healer-spriggan, Peridot, to the floor of the tower.


Black-water flies out of her mouth, her body spasming, the flowers on her head wilting and falling off as she turns her gaze, a stubby hand and a pair of cold, desperate eyes reaching out down towards the three sleeping figures below.

 

 

(Muldrich) has killed (Peridot)

 

 

Fresh watches as the healer-spriggan too shakes and then falls down dead, the magic of the potion having destroyed it from the inside-out. “No!” she yells,  turning her gaze up towards the guardsman, Muldrich with fear in her eyes.


He twists the pike, making sure that Peridot is dead, before turning back towards her.


“Witch of the north.”


“…Muldrich…” says Fresh, somewhat awkwardly. “Did you change your mind about dinner?” she asks, sniffling and rubbing her face into her shoulder.


The man picks her up by the scruff of her collar, lifting her to her feet. A coin that she had hidden beneath her shoulder falls down to the ground. “No,” is all that he says, cutting the straps on her hands free.

Comments

rhekke

==Central City, Dungeon Item Shop== ==Late-Winter, night== Times were tough. Muldrich mulled over the thought. Trite, he decided, and generic and simple. But true nonetheless. The end of the world was tough. However, a guard always had their beacon, their star to navigate even the end times with; the laws and ordinances of the Central City. He was a guard, and he had his duty. But after he was relieved, and no longer on duty, he judged those he guarded. A truth known to all guards was that no one was innocent; everyone had something to hide. A child stealing a cookie or a conqueror stealing a crown; to a guard, the only thing different was a matter of scale. A guard did not hunt down the guilty to punish them; guards guarded. However, the man behind the guard was still just a man. Muldrich had seen those he guarded and judged them. He saw them make medicines and heal the sick, his own family numbered among them. He saw them sell mundane wonders which would serve the common citizens better than the wealthy adventurers. He saw them spend their wealth in fairs and festivals instead of stuffing it in banks. He saw them lost and alone, together and content, bickering as only those who have found their family could do. He saw them give of their own efforts to people, asking nothing in return. As a man, he judged them. As a guard, none of that mattered. He had his duty, he stood his post. He did not fraternize while on duty with those he was guarding. He rejected all bribes, even as he cut his own meager share to give more to his wife and children. He watched as he guarded demons and witches, fallen priestesses and monsters. His duty was to protect them. But Muldrich, the man behind the guard, found them worth protecting as well. And so, he saw them fall, brought low as the spriggan in their house dragged the witch off. Frantically, he reviewed his assignment; to guard those within from those without. Was there anything he could do? They were on private property! Would he need to go beyond his duty to save them? Become the most horrible of guards, a Maverik? If only they had reached the street; even a single hair would be enough to justify his involvement without breaking the law! Even the slime would count as it was registered as a pet to their party… Wait. The slime was registered, but they never registered either of the wooden monsters. Those were technically still wild monsters, not included in the protection he was to provide. And in the case of a wild monster attack on a legitimate citizen, the law was clear; to protect and defend. Muldrich turned and entered to perform his duty. ====== The fight was over, the monster slain. Muldrich turned back to the girl. “Witch of the north.”, he named her, both as the one he protected and a power in her own right. “…Muldrich…” the witch replied, seemingly surprised at his presence. However, that did not last long as she immediately tempted him again. “Did you change your mind about dinner?” But Muldrich had found new purpose. He was a guard, and the regulations and ordinances of the city had not let him down, allowing Muldrich the guard to act in accordance with Muldrich the man. He welcomed the guidance passed down in the rules and responded. “No.”

DungeonCultist

Haha, thank you very much for reading! I really like your shadow-canon Muldrich backstory. Honestly, it's more lore on him than I ever made, so I guess it's official now? xD