TQG 60

60. Shovel

“Wait, the hounds are still out there!” I protested as the monk began unbarring the door.

“I am aware,” he said patiently, and he continued on his course of action.  I analyzed him, and I saw that he was level fifty.  Since he was not a healer, perhaps he had a combat class which would be able to drive them off.

Immediately when the door was opened, one of the hounds leapt at him, its massive paws planting on his shoulders.  However, instead of attempting to rip his throat out, the dog gave him a slobbery kiss.

“Down!” he scolded, and the dog whined as it circled back to join the rest of the pack outside.

“Sit!” he commanded, and the pack sat on their haunches.

“Lay,” he commanded, and they abruptly lay on their bellies, resting their muzzles on their forelegs and looking up at him with adoration in their eyes.

“You see?  There’s really nothing to fear from them, you simply have to let them know who is in charge,” the monk said, casually exiting the temple and walking past the ferocious murder-beasts.  He absently bet down and scratched the lead hound behind its ears.  “Come with me, Earl Jeoran.  The hounds will not hurt you unless you run from them again.”

With wide eyes, I nervously followed the monk outside.  The pack growled at me the moment I stepped out of the temple, but they remained obediently laying on the grass.  I quickly hopped to follow the monk as he walked around to the back of the temple.

“Is your class some sort of [Beastmaster]?” I asked him.

“Nothing of the sort,” he said.  “Stop asking foolish questions, Hail.  Come quickly, there is a task which must be accomplished before morning.”

The hounds followed us as we made our way to the back of the temple, but they hung back obediently.  Behind the temple was a small stable and a shed.  Leaning next to the shed was a shovel, which the monk took and tossed at me.

“I need you to dig me a hole,” he explained.

“A hole?” I asked.

“Yes.  Preferably six feet deep and large enough to lay down in, although it doesn’t have to be perfect,” he said.  “Just deep enough that the animals won’t dig up what we bury in it.”

“What do you need a hole for?” I asked.  “And why must I dig it in the middle of the night?  Can it not wait until morning when the sun is out?”

“Are you too good for manual labor, child?” the monk asked.  “You must dig it tonight because this task has already been delayed too long and it will grow more unpleasant the longer it is delayed.  You have claimed sanctuary, and this is a task which the head of the temple has assigned you in exchange for protection.”

The hounds began growling again, and I swallowed nervously.  “I-fine.  Just keep the hounds from tearing out my throat and I’ll do whatever you want.”

So I began to dig.  My [Exhaustion] had not faded completely, and the activity of digging kept my stacks at three, which was low enough to work with, but the process was slow and unpleasant.  The monk walked away at some point, leaving me alone with the hounds, who encircled the hole and watched me work, occasionally growling at me when I slowed down.  Whatever the monk said about being a [Beastmaster], he clearly had some sort of magical control over the pack of Ramsay hounds.  I wondered if he had sent them after me in the first place for some reason.  Or perhaps it had not been me in particular, but simply anyone, simply because he needed a hole dug.

It was not pleasant work.  I developed [Blisters] on my hands, which I healed with the [Healing Balm] before they impacted my work too greatly.  I wondered the entire time at the monk’s purpose, as I could think of nothing worth burying in a hole this size and no building which would require such a small foundation.

It was a lousy hole, oblong and misshapen, but I persevered for fear of bringing the wrath of the hounds down on me should I falter again.  However, when I had gotten the deepest point to about four feet deep, my status began flickering again.

Condition: Wireiana Poisoning.

-200 health per five seconds.

Condition: Paralysis

Condition: Fever

Condition: Chills

Condition: Hallucinations

Health: 10451/12600

I had been poisoned!  But how?  When?

I collapsed into the hole as the [Paralysis] took effect, laying face down in the dirt and unable to shift out of the uncomfortable position.  The shovel had landed right under me and was poking into my stomach.

I was no expert in poisons, so the name of the affliction gave me no help in figuring out how it had been applied.  It was obviously a slow-acting poison.  I tried to remember everything I had eaten or drank since I had returned to the world of the living, and whether or not I had remembered to cast [Detect Poison] before doing so.  There hadn’t been very much, it had mostly been a day of action.  I had not taken any repast at my uncle’s house, I was certain of that, and although to my suspicious mind he remained the most likely suspect.  Him, or the strange assassin which had appeared, but the kunai she had thrown at me had missed!

I began to see shapes and colors.  I heard voices, although they were all strange and shouted nonsense.  I sweated and shook from the cold.  And my health slowly drifted downward.  I had less than five minutes to receive an antidote or I would die.  Again.

“What are you doing?  Quit lying down there, that isn’t yourgrave,” the monk said impatiently when he returned.  I was down to 4851/12600 health and my condition was deteriorating fast.

“P-poison,” I managed to whisper.

“Oh?  You must have used more of the ointment than I’d intended,” the monk murmered, and the missing piece clicked into place.

“You!” I exclaimed.  Or I’d intended to exclaim at least, but at present I wasn’t up to making dramatic noises.  “Why?”

“Oh relax, the poison is only deadly to those below level thirty,” the monk said waving my concerns away.

“I’m level twenty-eight.”

“Oh?  What are your [Vitality] and [Endurance]?”

I tried to remember, but could not.  When I pulled up my status screen, the numbers blurred and shifted, and it took me a minute to find them.  “Forty-five and thirty-eight.”

“You’ll be fine.  Probably.  Keep digging when you recover, that hole isn’t deep enough yet.”

The monk walked off, leaving me lying like that helplessly and dying.  However, a moment after he was gone, my vision flashed again with alerts.

You have gained general skill: Poison Resistance (1)

Condition: Wireiana Poisoning (Partially resisted).

-100 health per five seconds.

Condition: Weakness

Condition: Fever

Condition: Chills

Health: 4551/12600

I could move again!  And my remaining lifespan had just doubled thanks to [Poison Resistance]!  I rolled over off of the shovel and looked up at the stars.  At my current rate of decline, I had just under four minutes before my health hit zero.  Fortunately, I still had health potions in my inventory, and I pulled out the strongest one I had.  With shaking hands, I swallowed the bitter berry-flavored concoction and sighed in relief as I regained three thousand health.  That meant that I had gained about an extra two and a half minutes of life.

I pulled out another healing potion and waited for my [Potion Resistance] to fade away so that I could drink it and get its full effects.  It would take four minutes for that to happen, which meant that I was dying faster than the potions were healing me, but every one would give me longer to live, and hopefully give me a chance to get another rank of [Poison Resistance].

I drank the second potion the moment I was able to.  I gained twenty-eight hundred health from that one.  Less than a first, but still more than two minutes of life.  I watched nervously as my health began ticking slowly downward once again.

Just before I could drink another potion, I abruptly gained another level of [Poison Resistance], and my life span doubled again as the poison fell to -50 health per five seconds.  That also meant that the amount of time I gained from drinking the potion doubled from about two and a half minutes of life to almost five.  It was working.  I could survive this poison, I just needed to stay alive long enough for my [Poison Resistance] to level up a few more times and overcome it.  Fortunately, I had plenty of healing potions.  Even if I was gaining diminishing returns from the potions, I was healing faster than I was losing Health to the poison.

Unfortunately, [Poison Resistance] did not seem to want to reach level three.  I drank two more potions to keep myself alive, and then I ran into another problem as I gained [Potion Toxicity].  I cursed, knowing that if I drank more until that debuff had faded then the potions would not only be only 10% effective, but I would likely gain another damage over time effect because of it.  And, unfortunately, the debuff had an hour duration, meaning that my solution for surviving this poison had just run into a wall.  My only hope was that my resistance would level again before I ran out of health.

I was down to ten percent health when it happened.  [Poison Resistance] reached level three, and the damage over time effect faded.  The [Weakness], [Fever], and [Chills] effects of the poison remained, but I was no longer dying.  I sighed in relief in the bottom of the shallow hole I had dug, and I gathered my strength and my courage to climb out of it.  I intended to find the monk and give him a piece of my mind.  Shaking from my status effects, I stood and tried to climb out.

My resolve faltered when the growling began.  The pack of Ramsay hounds encircled me, and it was clear that they did not like the idea of me leaving my task unfinished.

“Sit!” I commanded, trying to sound unafraid, but the hounds ignored me and continued bearing their teeth at me.  It was only when I picked up the shovel and once again began digging that they stopped and settled down once more.

What in the seven hells did the monk need a hole for anyway?

With my [Weakness], it took the rest of the night for me to complete my task.  The sky was gray with predawn light.  The monk seemed to know exactly how long it would take me, as he appeared just as I had deemed the hole dug.

“You said that medicine would heal me, not that it was poisoned!” I shouted at him as soon as he appeared.

“I said that it would stop the pain and the bleeding,” the monk said.  “Pain stops when you’re dead.  Bleeding stops when your dead.  I’ve told you no lies.”

“You!  What sort of monk are you?” I demanded.

“Who said I was a monk?” the monk said.  “Come with me, I need your help in carrying something.”

“I’ll do nothing of the sort!  I will--”

The hounds began growling again, and I nervously took a step back, bumping into the uneven wall of the hole I had dug.

“If you wish to renounce your claim of sanctuary, you may do so at any time,” the monk said, amusement in his voice.  “Of course, if you renounce your claim, then I am no longer responsible for your safety.  And the hounds do love a good hunt.”

I swallowed, looking at the encircling beasts with trepidation.  I was trapped, and I knew it.  Capitulation was my only option.

“Fine,” I said.  I crawled out of the hole I had dug, the hounds eyeing me for any signs that I would flee, and I followed the monk into the shed behind the temple.  Once inside, was immediately struck by the unpleasant smell of rotting meat.

“Oh Thedum, what is that?” I asked.

“That is the thing that we need to bury,” the monk answered.  “There are four more beside it, but this is the oldest and therefor the one that must go in the ground most urgently.  You may begin digging those holes tomorrow.  Unless you revoke your claim of sanctuary, of course, in which case you are free to do whatever you please.”

The hounds immediately showed their enthusiasm for that idea, snarling with excitement as they circled the shack.  I shook my head.  Unfortunately, I believed that I was trapped at this forsaken temple in the hands of this insane monk until my friends came to rescue me.

The rotten meat was inside of a large sack.  I grabbed one end of the sack, and the monk the other, and we carried it outside and tossed it unceremoniously into the hole.  The monk handed me my shovel.

“Once you fill in the hole, you may rest,” he told me.  “I shall return and show you to a cell.  I strongly suggest that you do not try to flee, less you cause the hounds to become excited again.”

Grumbling to myself, I took the shovel and began my task.