A Blood Filled Night

When the Minotaur came back, It came back with blood and a corpse, its hands latched onto the leg, dragging it softly behind him. The dull sound of something soft being dragging on the floor filled the room. The cold still stung them like a pointed blade, growing hotter and hotter by the minute, until it burned them. The cave's icy grip only released them for mere moments, and as the cold became less dramatic, a burning and a nauseating feeling of being sick rose. Their stomachs felt empty.

The Minotaur approached them. Baun could tell that it was observing them, and for what reason, he did not know. It growled, and for a moment its blood stained body, fur covering its back and neck like a shawl, drenched in blood, specks of bone, and rain, shivered and its cow-like eyes dilated. "You all look hungry." It said, and with a heft it dropped the body onto the floor. "You gotta eat 'ere. Eat this."

The body rolled hastily making its way to their feet. It was a faun. Baun easily recognized them, as their head was mangled beyond belief, two fists embedded into the side of it. It was Heiti, at least what was left of him. On their body were bite marks, deep and gnarly, rain hadn't washed the body of its blood, and it still poured.

Baun took a deep breath, he didn't want to die, but eating a corpse wasn't something he was hoping to do either. Koat exchanged glances with him. They were both thinking the same thing. It was inevitable. Baun touched the corpse's arm. It was warmish.

The Minotaur watched intently. "Use your hands, I won't be giving you any utensils." It said. His voice quiet now. Baun saw it turn his back on them and moved toward the entrance of the cave. "I'll be leaving, don't kill each other." It wrote something on the cave wall with dark ink in the pits of the shadow that jaded the cave walls. It looked sinister, and stretched into the shadow humbly. Baun and Koat felt the urge to look away, the coldness of the room drifted, sliding onto their bodies less fervently, and warmth gathered in the pits of their chest. The Minotaur had helped them, a weird expression cast over both their faces.

Baun shook his head, thinking it just didn't want them dying from the cold. It wanted them to suffer, and looking toward his meal… He needed to gather the courage to eat. Koat had hid himself into the corner of the cave as the minotaur left.

"What are you doing?" Baun asked.

Koat looked at him with a scowl. "I'm going to die of hunger."

Baun's brow furrowed and he could see Koat's arrogant plague arise. "You're going to die if you don't eat." He grabbed Heiti's arm, and he shakily tried pulling it… "God damn it." He said. It was too much, ripping off another buck's arm, shivering ran up his own arm instead, and he shook like a ghost.

Koat turned away. "See it's better to die than do that. I'm no monster. I knew the guy since he and I were children, I watched him grow. I saw him die. Knowing him he wouldn't care if his body got eaten to make a few people live a little bit longer. That's why the gods chose him."

"Keep on talking about god." Baun said. "You're just gonna fucking die praying to a mythical cow."

"What you see as bribes I see as tribute."

Baun's eyes narrowed, and his hand crumpled around heiti's arm. "I don't want to die."

Koat slowly laid on the ground. "Eat 'em I told you, he wouldn't care."

…

Lod spent most of his hours braindead, sitting around the temple, attempting to admire its beauty. His eyes trying to focus on the most simplest of tasks only to get interrupted by the ethereal blue glow of the system floating in front of his eyes. "The Chosen." It said on the headlines, and looking down he could see 'stats' all of it perfectly written in basic language.

[ Name: Lod ]

[Level: 1 Awakened Human]

[ Experience 0 / 200 ]

[ Strength: 12 ]

[ Dexterity: 5 ]

[ Agility: 10 ]

[ Constitution: 10 ]

[ Endurance: 9 ]

[ Will: 11 ]

[ Blood: 0 ]

[ Description: You are the first chosen. ]

[Skills]

[Open]

He interpreted every stat when he saw them, not exactly understanding them, if he were asked to explain each and every single stat he would have no answer other than a basic concept of what he thought it meant. It was as if something whispered the information into his head, although, he at the same time never knew or understood what the concepts represented. Even these floating messages were foreign to him.

He recognized that he had a high strength bar and very high constitution. He was athletic, making him fast as well. However, he had no experience with projectiles and was very clumsy with proficiency based weapons. Lod thought the stats represented him almost perfectly, except for the odd skills that he received.

"Blood Offering" offer a carcass to the forest god and they would accept it with renewed fervor.

"Blessing" pray to the forest god and he will give you your just deserves, the gods do not accept prayer without blood that was soon to follow.

Followed by "Heroic Might", mana is replaced with will and tenacity, have enough of it and any spell needed shall be generated, remember prayer is required, and faith shall be rewarded.

It did not align with him. If he had these skills before he would've surely destroyed the minotaur, as he was praying fervently for help. Perhaps, the forest god had given him pittance once they saw his crippled figure. Perhaps not. However, he was given a chance for revenge and life at that, so he would not throw it to waste and instead use it.

It was all too much for him, comprehending though was easy, with a broken mind. Emotions came and went. Perseverance made up the core of his existence. Tenacity was its partner and so when Lod moved his body carried the weight of the minotaur as he followed its bloodied prints out of the temple.

Lod exited the temple when the storm was at its peak. The gray skies casted a melodramatic hue over everything; it was a rolling thunder with blood and stone being mixed into the blood brown ground, drowning insects who thought they were safe, protected between the barrier of land and constant rain. Lod could see the minotaur's footsteps deep in mud, it was clearly defined, and easily recognizable. His eyes could discern them from a sly glance. He felt anger well up in his chest, but he couldn't go after them, not yet at least.

He looked toward the system and saw the ever smarting level 1 on its blue screen. It was his driving force. If the number increases, Lod guessed so would his power, and with the backing of a god, he could destroy the Minotaur. He was sure of it, with the backing of any god the minotaur would become just a mere drop in the pond, and he'd be able to get revenge for his companions. He could not bring them back, however, he could give them proper revenge.

He followed the steps into the forest, and deviated off of a path. He needed to leave the forest, he couldn't stay in the forest for a second longer. He didn't have a guide with him like Trel. It was too hard to stay here, and he was alone. If the minotaur had allies, what would happen to him? If the bestial men of the forests surrounded him, would he be able to run away from them?

He was answered as he rounded a gigantic tree. Lod heard their footsteps first, large clops against mud, sloshing and unhurried. They were tall, their conspicuous inhuman faces pulled into eternal darkness from the large dark cloaks that were affixed from their head like a crown down their shoulders, backs, and arms, covering their powerfully built body. They raised their spears defensively, each of them carefully navigating the rain filled forest with klutzy precession.

One of the taller ones spoke. "The Big Horn Tribe's shaman has died. You think the Ripper's are the same?" Their body hunched over in the rain, the only thing visible was their broad chest and spear.

What Lod assumed to be their leader, stood tall in the rain, ax in hand looking around and carefully observing their surroundings. "I don't know." Their sharp eyes suddenly poked a hole in his direction. Lod shuffled into the forest, allowing gray rain and dark foliage to mask him. The lead faun looked at the ground. "It's a bitch to track in this rain," He said. "I don't think the Buck's of the Ripper tribe could've been able to quickly pull of murder like this. The Big Horn tribe was in disarray along with us."

"What are you saying?" Another one knelt on the ground, looked up at him, the rain clouded his physical appearance, the only thing visible from his cloak was their gigantic beard that fell all the way down their face, the strength of their figure impossible to hide.

Their leader growled, their mind seemingly in slight disarray. "I'm saying this may be a sign." He said. "The tribes are gathering, and the shamans have died, this may be God's doing."

"Or the orcs." A moment of silence passed over them both, their eyes beamed through the pathway.

"What the hell is that?" One pointed, and lod followed its finger, unable to see what they were pointing at. It was to the south of them, and the only thing there was a deep shadow that looked impossible to see through. The one that said it was stout and held a great sword in their palms. "I swear I saw something."

When lod was about to run away deeper into the forest, he heard an alert blind his eyes.

[ Prove your dedication!]

[ Kill the fauns 0/5 ]

[ Reward 100 XP ]

[ Failure results in death ]

Lod had gathered his longsword from the wreckage of the temple. The task presented before him looked nearly impossible as fighting head to head with the minotaur once again. Faun's weren't strong as minotaur's but they might as well have been put in a class above humans since birth, their animal body, inhuman faces, peak muscular strength, it was all too much for a human. However, Lod felt that God wouldn't purposefully give him a losing battle. Whether it was his faith for this new god, or his broken mind that led to this conclusion. He raised his longsword, swimming in the foliage of the forest, and approached, eyes locked on the weakest of them.

The fauns were distracted; they mindlessly looked in the direction the stout one had pointed. Lod felt rage in his chest, looking at them they looked more alike, minotaur, faun, it was as if he was seeing its child. The one that had robbed him of his friends and humiliated him stood before him as a child, raising his sword parallel to his head, pointed outward toward the only opening he could see. He let rain and foliage cloud his approach.

They did not notice his approach even as the glint of his silver blade masked by the macabre swelling of the rain came close. Even as he came from the forest bolting. Only then did they realize, once their brother had fallen to the ground, a sword pierced their side, the only part the furs did not cover. A horrid screech came out from their bestial face. They tersely gripped at their attacker, only for the sword to be ripped to their back like a saw, and for them to fall forward, torso half-cut through, warm blood and guts spilling onto the floor.

When they all finally reacted, the blood was already thrown on the ground, the human approaching them quickly. Bestial roars filled the air, and hooves previously unmoving, dominated the space. Their leader and their scout, both tall faun's with powerful chests, reacted the fastest. The Leader hefted his great ax, a stick with a gigantic sharpened slab of metal larger than his head, both of his arms raised above his head brought it down. The tall scout with blinding precession, hunched over, spear in hand, stabbed at them.

All of this was accompanied with blinding speed, and lod couldn't comprehend their actions, it was a blur to his eyes. However, he heard a whisper in the back of his head. "Shoulder and head." It was eerily clear. He dramatically raised his longsword, using two hands to hold it, he was driven to his knees by the force of the ax, he twisted his sword and deflected the spear with his sword, shoving it off to the side. The gigantic ax's head was raised once more.

Then he suddenly heard. "Back, leg." He swung his sword out behind him, and he heard a jostling movement. His head turned and he saw the other two faun's swinging around to stab him and strike him. When he returned to see the leader, swinging his ax like a maniac, it was coming for his head, he raised his sword. But the voice shouted. "Chest! shoulder!"

An intense pressure slammed into his chest, its hoof, and a piercing stab bore through his shoulder. The scout and leader were quick. Lod was thrown backward like a ball, and his body rolled twice as it slammed into a tree.

The bestial men were circling around him. The leader did not. It barrelled down at him with its great ax reared behind his head. Their powerful legs exert every single muscle in their legs in an effort to move even faster. It was a bull charge.

Lod ducked down, and their ax ran half its way into the tree. Lod dove to the side, not even attempting to strike. The bestial men were quick behind their leader, and it had already found a way to wrench its ax out of the tree with a single pull. It made a flurry of strikes as Lod stumbled backward, dodging with a voice in his head shouting out where each of its strike shall land.

Mud flew, and the leader, swung with the head of their ax, cutting the air, following it up with a swift downward swing of the stave. Lod caught the strike on his sword clumsily, and was hurriedly running backward. Each swing was wide. Each fueled with enough power to cut through his body in a single swing. Blood flew down his shoulder, adrenaline made him move faster, and his constant stumbling was getting harder to control. He shifted his weight to one foot, and hurriedly dodged a suddenly backhanded swing of the ax. He jutted his butt outward, and he narrowly dodged the follow up stab of the stick.

Thinking grew hard, but his mind found it. 'Prayer' and he needed to pray desperately. The other faun was in a crescent circle around him like a net, maneuvering through the trees like it was nothing, and eyes focused with rage. He needed god's help. He could see their murderous gaze.

"Please!" He rasped, "God help me!"

And the blood from his shoulder turned into a thick mist, flowing in a misty line into the forest. Lod felt his soul drain, but at the same time, he felt his body heal and a mind numbing sense of ecstasy filled it instead. With a roar he fell down on his enemies. His next goal was clear in mind.

The leader caught his strike on his stave, and threw his ax down onto their shoulder. The human disappeared with a clumsy procession out of the strike, swinging their blade toward their side. Their fur cloak bent into the strike, and the best thing the leader felt was a dull strike. Biting through the pain it roared.

But when it found the human next, they were running straight toward the body of the slewn Faun. Their eyes came up with even greater anger. "I'll eat your fucking corpse!" It shouted. "Human! Don't you dare run!"

Their threats reached the human quickly, as did they, as they swung their axes, spears, and swords with hatred-fueled strength.

The humans did not run and instead shouted on the top of their lungs. "My offering is blood!"

Red mist poured from their fallen comrade and blinded them. Then as if god had fallen. Their leader heard a quickly clipped shout. He looked and saw that his comrade's entire lower body had been hued off. Their hands outstretched trying to kill the human. Lod on the other hand, let out a beasts cry, a roar of pleasure, and rage.

The roles had reversed and they fell heavily on the ground. The three resisted. Swinging and stabbing, only to find their attacks well received with ignorance. The human let the strikes drive through his shoulder, and allowed his chest to be cut, his neck bore open. To receive a single kill. The human was impaled by the scout's spear when he had killed him, tearing off their head, and throwing it to the side. The human's gaze was feral, a stone cold gaze that held rage in its gentle features.

The Leader felt rage well up in his throat and with a tortuous roar, it ran forward. "Die!"

Lod now felt ecstasy run through his mind, it was numbing, and ran into him with tortuous pleasure. His wounds healed as he walked. "I offer you blood!" He shouted, and met the leader's charge with a swift strike to their chest.

The leader saw the blurring speed, and instinctively covered his chest. Then he was looking away from himself. He saw his body from a third person. It was moving, as if trying to strike Lod, but the human did not react. The next faun paralyzed with fear was struck down with a swing of their blade, and the human whose figure now looked impressively strong. Roared into the rain with red flames shooting off of him! The coldness of magic he felt swamped his last senses.

"God I have offerings!" He said, and the faun felt his consciousness being burned.

…

Yarost's mouth smiled to the point his gums were revealed. "Power…" He said. "I can feel it coursing through me." He watched from the pits of the forest. Watching as his chosen, his first champion, offering him soul after soul. Five souls in all, his magic power growing in response, and they expected reward at the same time so he gave them only a part of that soul's strength. By making some of his soul infuse them with physical strength.

…

[ +1 Strength ]

[ +1 Strength ]

[ +1 Agility ]

[ +1 Agility ]

[ +1 Blood ]

[ Your offerings please god, you've received a boon of approval. Your blood, your impressive performance delights them. They give you the skill of 'Reserved Blood' use it well. ]

"Reserve Blood" you can store your offerings to god, and then expel them. Use it well.

Lod saw red mist flow into his nose and he saw a temporary boost in his will.

[ +1 Will affect of reserve blood ]