Chương 31: The Spirit Who Would be a God

Nothing I try makes any difference. Frantic and mighty efforts of concentrated rage and fear fail to restore me to my body, which is walking briskly into the dark room. I am a bird in a cage. And I hate this confinement, more even than when being held in the Arkine prison cart. I want you to appreciate me. The voice in my thoughts is like of a person speaking to me from within a dream: it is the voice of an old man, southern accent, wealthy, arrogant. He is waiting for me to respond. I do not.

I am striving to force even the smallest twitch of my right hand. I'm a genius. The smartest being you've ever met. Wait until you hear. Again a pause. I don't know if I'm the only spirit with the power of Possession, but none could possibly be as intelligent as me. Listen attentively. What's to stop me being immortal? The death of my host. So I don't want to be outside, where predators are everywhere. No, I want to have a controlled environment. But if I'm inside, where is the food supply for my host?

And where are the replacements for when the body fails for some reason? At least outside there's no shortage of insects and worms even. Although I prefer to take over a bird if I must be outside, for the flight, obviously. Then came the day I learned about this maze that the dwarves had built and given over to a group of trolls, in return for them guarding the spawn point for one of the dragon's teeth. Do you see it yet, my genius?

My body has stopped and now sits back to a wall and is in the process of fastening heavy, iron cuffs to my ankles. I am imprisoning myself! It occurs to me that I could easily remove myself from the chains with Blinkstep, but I don't want to reveal that skill until I better understand the nature of this self-congratulating spirit. A faint rectangle of grey shows me the way I have come, the way back to the corridor. A dozen bodies lie in this room, with dark, gleaming metal chains attached to them.

One moves slightly and I hear a faint groan from her. Trolls regenerate! He laughs. Endless food for my host. I hope you like the taste of raw troll. Hah, hah. Hah! They are very chewy. And even better, by locating my home here, I know there will always be new arrivals, like your party, to refresh my options. To save me from being bored. By the way, you are rather boring. You should reply to me. It's only polite. And be warned if I become bored of you, I will simply let your body die.

I will possess one of your friends instead and this body can become food. If I cannot escape by strength, then it shall have to be by guile. That you are a genius is clearly a fact; if you are undead, perhaps you worship Lord Scrithax? Scrithax? That old has-been? His laugh is full of scorn. I'll be in the Twenty-Five Kingdoms a lot longer than a pathetic god whose mana has run out. I'll be here to the end, for who can kill me?

If any creature attacks my host and is likely to defeat it, why I simply Possess the stronger of them. From the direction of the grey rectangle comes whispers.

'Crow? Crow?' And the light there brightens unsteadily. My body is suddenly my own again.

'Run! Escape if you can flee! A spirit has possessed me!' A confusion of voices and footsteps. Swaying lanterns creating alarming shadows that stretch and contract wildly.

'Crow!' Belle runs to me.

'What is it? What has put you in chains? Where is it?'

'A spirit possesses us whom you should shun; please Belle, while you can, just run.' Lit by the arriving lanterns, I see that corpses are strewn on the floor of the room: adventurers whose armour and dress indicate a variety of classes. There is also a troll, prone, much mauled, as motionless as moss-covered rock, presumably slowly regenerating. And there is a living woman, pale and thin, robes covered in blood, sitting against the wall, bound by chains. Bewildered. Everyone is shouting, looking around.

Everyone but Lady Horsta who is calmly walking towards me. She kneels and reaches for the key that I had used to lock myself into the grasp of metal cuffs. Although bound, I'm able to grab the key and now a struggle begins.

'I'm not leaving without you. What's happening Crow?' asks Belle. Let go! For a moment I am Possessed again and I yield the key. Having taken the key, Lady Horsta walks to a corpse and kneels to unlock it. I understand. There are no more spare shackles and the spirit must reuse those currently occupied by the dead.

'One by one, the spirit will possession of us gain, then force us to lock ourselves to a chain.'

'Let's try to stop her!' shouts Belle.

'Grab Lady Horsta.' If the issue were not one of our capture and death, if I were to see this scene upon a stage, I would be laughing: Gerard suddenly leaving the struggle to run, hard, head-first into a wall and lie dazed; Lisandra grabbing Belle by the hair and toppling with her to the ground; Aarax running out of the room; Lady Horsta standing; Lady Horsta sitting and locking herself; Aarax running back in, turning around and running out once more. There is no sign of Amaris.

With grim inevitability, one after the other, my companions shackle themselves and it is particularly distressing to see the moment that Belle stiffens and brings herself into captivity. Despair, however, is not a feeling that I entertain for any length of time and it flees as I succeed in my Pick Lock attempt. No doubt the stolen, steel lockpicks that I keep in my breast pocket provided a bonus to the attempt.

It had occurred to me that I should return these fine lockpicks to the assassin once he joined our party; now I am glad that I have kept them. Where is Amaris? Did he flee upon hearing my cry? Or has he a skill that avoids detection by the spirit?

'Hey, you with the green robes. What's going on here?' Lisandra calls across to the frail-looking captive. But the prisoner just shakes her head even as Lisandra convulses and then punches herself several times in the mouth, until her lips are bleeding. We are not to talk to each other, it seems. And so we sit in chains, inside a mountain. While the lanterns continue to emit their dull, yellow light we are able to look at each other and I smile encouragingly.

After all, this spirit is arrogant, which is understandable with the power it has, yet vainglory is surely a weakness. The predator the crow truly fears is the one who has the measure of its own abilities. When I'm confident that no one but Belle is looking at me I even give her a cheeky wave from a shackle-free hand to demonstrate that despite appearances I am free and, after a moment where her face shows surprise, the gesture earns me a grin.

To destroy a spirit which intends to live for hundreds of years, passing from host to host, it seems I must catch it in a weak host and kill it so swiftly that it does not possess me or flee to another nearby creature. Ideally, I would stamp down on a beetle containing the monster and that would be that. But how to force it into a weak form? Since the spirit is now present in very solid beings with many hit points I will have to strike the host with one vicious blow for a great deal of damage.

My short sword is still at my side – the spirit being too complacent in its power to bother removing it – and I immediately swap my afk levelling skill to Wield Shortsword. If the chance comes, I must not miss. One by one, the lanterns flicker, fade to a blue flame, and expire. In total darkness, unable to see my companions, my confidence diminishes. What is the spirit doing? Presumably, it can only see with the eyes of its host.

Yet it sensed my approach and attacked me some twenty metres from the emaciated woman who must have been its previous host. It would be foolish, therefore, for me to Blinkstep away. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Perhaps we can just wait for the next group of adventurers and then, while the spirit is busy with them, I unlock my friends and we simply run away.

Another large group of people would stretch the capacity of the spirit to control us all: like a street juggler who puts too many spinning plates on their stands, it could all come crashing down. Yet if they could hear my thoughts, I feel that the corpses on the floor of the room would no doubt shake their heads. Waiting did not serve them well. Where is the spirit? What is it doing now? After about an hour in the dark, I discover the answer. You have been targeted by a Possession attack. You have been Possessed.

Possession. The affected creature's body is taken over by the attacker. The attacker must relinquish its former body. The affected creature cannot regain control of its body until the attacker leaves it for that of another or is expelled. Well now rogue, your turn to entertain me. Tell me all about your past. I'm particularly interested in theology and epistemology. What is that word? It is one that I have never before heard. The spirit laughs. Sooner or later, I shall Possess a being worthy of my intelligence.

A dark elf scholar, perhaps. And then I shall contentedly explore the meaning of existence and in particular a question that concerns me greatly. Supposing that there is only one being in the universe, one god, and that we are all just fragments of that being, sparks that are flying from a mighty inferno. Then could I become that god? Could I discover a way to match my mind with The One? You wish to be a god? Yet you seem rather feeble. I doubt you can Possess even a beetle. The spirit laughs again.

You're not the first to goad me in the hope that in a suitably frail form, I come within striking distance of a heavy boot. In fact, your sorceress tried something similar only she talked of spiders. It's rather pathetic really, but at least you are trying. Keep trying; it is mildly entertaining for me to see how many steps I am ahead of you. What about the twenty-five gods: do you think you could Possess such a being? It would be a test of your power and a whole new way of seeing.

There is a pause before the spirit responds, its voice lively and eager. What a charming thought. You are less stupid than you appear. Congratulations. I might keep you alive until last. Possess a god. Well, why not? I could do it. Yes, I could. I could take my place at the table. Possess the god who is about to win. Rule the Twenty-Five Kingdoms for a thousand years. He is shouting in my mind now. A god. Of course. I should possess a god. I am immortal like them. I deserve it. But how would I meet a god?

They never descend from their palace. How can I get up to the moon? Could I Possess a dragon and fly there? But that would mean leaving this perfect setup that took me so long to obtain. Interrupting the flow of his thoughts, I try to redirect the proud spirit. Gods do sometimes manifest on this land; Lord Scrithax himself is close at hand. He spoke to me and once again will do so; after I have completed the Epico Draco Missio. Lord Scrithax? Least of gods. Still, what matter? In fact this might be best.

Start with an easy one. Learn the system that way before taking over a proper god. Asa or Jehu. All right. It should not be too difficult to collect the dragon's teeth … but wait. It is you who obtains the dragon's tooth. That means keeping you alive. Taking you out of here. Travelling in your form… There is silence. Ominous silence. I see what you are about, you foolish rogue. You still think you can outsmart me. Your story about Scrithax is a lie.

You just want a chance to escape or kill me at the moment I Possess a weak guardian of a dragon tooth. Well, I don't need you. I need a dragon. Despair, young rogue, for your trick has failed. And he is gone. To mock another one of us presumably. I do not despair. It was not my goal to leave here while still under the control of this spirit. My suggestion about possessing a god was simply troublemaking and I find I am amused by how eagerly the spirit adopted the idea.

I can wait to learn more about our jailer and my waiting in the dark is made easier when my Wield Shortsword ticks up to 2. Yes, a trapped crow can wait in the half-light, observing and learning and preparing to take its opportunity. Such distress as lurks in my thoughts is not for me but for my companions. What will they be thinking? They will be like me, planning, scheming. Wondering how to move the spirit to a body that can be killed instantly.

Lisandra, perhaps, can still cast spells, if the shackles on her wrists are not too tight. Her daily spells are usually Detect Magic, Sorcerer's Defence, Flare, Blade Cloud and Shapechange – Humanoid. She will be alert to any opportunity to use Flare. Also, she can escape her bonds with a Shapechange to a small humanoid. There is a scroll she carries, Curseblade, which is powerful but not for this situation. We will need quick damage, not a slow but steady bleed effect. Gerard's Siphon Life, similarly, is too slow.

What about my bracer of Raise Zombie? Now that is an intriguing possibility, assuming one of the corpses nearby is of someone who expired recently. Undead immunities include all forms of mind control. How will the spirit react if it finds a zombie it cannot possess is roaming the room? With fury no doubt. But would it kill any of us?

Unlikely, because the fewer people left, the more limited its option to move via Possession and the zombie could – in theory, though of course I would not order it to do so – kill everyone until just I am left and the spirit is forced into me as the host. Then by killing me, it would also destroy the spirit in the same instant. A rather extreme solution that I would never implement but the possibility of which might cause the spirit to flee … to go find a dragon perhaps.

That would be a better scenario than the current one; we could track whoever it chose for its host and help them when the spirit swaps to someone or some monster it thinks stronger. If I discover no better option, I will try to bring one of the corpses to its feet as a zombie. For now, though, I wait. I listen. I hope the spirit will Possess me again so that I can speak further with it and discover more about its nature.

And then I see the spirit's method of feeding us, which both disgusts me and causes my body to feel alive and ready to move. Opportunity is a fleeting muse and I must grasp her skirts as she hurries past. Stirring from the stone floor with the slow, echoing groans of a cave monster, a troll crawls towards Gerard. Mighty though the troll is, it cannot have too many hit points; its limbs are broken; even its neck is broken. Only the eyes show true, flashing like sparks of flint.

The wounded troll slumps beside our Shadow Knight, who stiffens and then leans over in a rattle of chains and chews at the upper arm of the huge beast.

'Ewww,' says Belle, unpunished.

'Yum looks good. Me next if you would,' I laugh. You have been targeted by a Possession attack. You have been Possessed. Possession. The affected creature's body is taken over by the attacker. The attacker must relinquish its former body. The affected creature cannot regain control of its body until the attacker leaves it for that of another or is expelled. Silence! How hard the wall and how soft my head as I violently bang the two together. For several seconds after the spirit has gone, I am bewildered. Who?

Who the crow? Me, I'm me. And I've achieved my purpose. My friends will be ready. I'm impatient now, while Lady Horsta takes her turn in biting into the living troll and tearing flesh from its wounds. At last the monster starts crawling in a pitiful and broken manner towards me. This is the chance and it might be our only chance. Yet I do not think of the consequences of failure. I do not think at all. Best only calculate distances. Nearer, nearer.

When the troll is definitely within sword range but before it might cease to move and the spirit seek my mind, I trigger Doppelganger. My twin stabs at the troll and the genius that is the spirit makes a fatal blunder. The troll turns to its assailant and I can almost taste its frustration as the spirit tries to Possess the simulacrum. The spirit must feel like a faller, grasping at the edge of a cliff, the turf tearing away in its hands.

On my feet faster than a cat spying a fleeing mouse, I lunge with Backstab against a semi-prone opponent, and the element of surprise. My damage multiplier is 4 and my strike is true. My blade sinks deep through the heart of the spirit's host. Dead as a boulder is the mighty troll, felled by the sharp beak of a crow. Y.. Only the very edge of a touch from the spirit reaches me before it is whisked away like a fiery ember into the sky. Farewell, I bid it, farewell. No deity status for you.

A moment later a Flare rushes towards me and shrivels the skin of the troll, blue flames flickering for several seconds after the dazzling bolt of orange has dissipated. Good, the troll will not regenerate itself back to life now, with the risk that somehow the spirit is able clinging on until then.

'Is it gone?' asks Lisandra.

'Everyone please speak your name, that way we know all our bodies and minds are regained.'

'Aarax.'

'Lisandra.'

'Belle.' Sweet Belle.

'Constance.' This from the body of Lady Horsta, and just as I dread that the spirit somehow avoided my lethal strike, she adds, 'by which I mean, Lady Constance Horsta.'

'Scrithax's beard, you rattled me there!' exclaims Gerard, then he too hurriedly reassures us.

'Gerard here, once coachman, now shadow knight.'

'Crow, you know.' And then, almost a whisper.

'Yuliaka. You don't know me so I could be the spirit, lying, but I assure I am not.' I walk over to the woman who had been the host to the spirit from before we arrived and I look into a face that has suffered a great deal and I believe her. The spirit has gone. We are all free. No cage can hold this crow.