Let Loose All Manner Of Beasts, And Bring Ruin Most Foul Upon All…

Such were the words etched into the ancient axe.

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Within the caverns of the Flood Road, there was a secret chamber with a secret treasure, that could not be found, unless you had a secret map. Recently, an adventurer had found this map, having bought it from a street beggar. He gathered a group adventurers like him and venture into the depths of the Marsh to find this treasure.

Indeed, they found it. The adventurers stood in the ancient room, gathering around the treasure in the middle, an old war axe. It was located in the middle of room, axe-head buried in the ground.

Thirteen words were written on its hilt. As one of the adventurers translated, the words meant, “Let loose all manner of beasts, and bring ruin most foul upon all.”

Ominous writing always accompanied ancient relics, a well-known fact in the adventuring community. However, many felt that something strange was going on.

Finley, who was among the adventurers, could feel that something was wrong.

“Ay, who let you touch the axe? It is MINE!”

“Stop ya jabbering, the axe is MINE!”

“No, it is MINE!”

The adventurers began fight amongst one another. They were far too aggressive and hostile to one another. Even friends and close companions were turning on one another.

Finley felt a feeling seep into him, hate, jealousy, anger. He wanted to lash out, he wanted the axe…

Shaking his head, trying to resist these strange violent urges, Finley yelled out.

“Stop! Don’t touch the axe, get away from it! It’s magical! It’s not—“

Before he could finish his sentence, someone punched him in the face and sent him sprawling. A full-on brawl ensued.

Beist wandered the Flood Road taking notes and sketches of the strange local flora and fauna. The plants and animals here were otherworldly, quite fascinating to the large, beastly man. He stood in front of a flower that was glowing with blue bioluminescent petals with purple spots. It almost looked like a starfish was growing out of the wall. He wondered if any of these plants might have unknown alchemical uses, but he didn't want to harm the strange plants. He settled on notes and sketches.

He looked at his latest sketch with a little disappointment. It wasn't quite as well drawn as he'd hoped. The last time he had sketched something was before the incident. He was still adjusting to the changes to his body, the size of his hands and the large claws. He sighed. "At least I do still have humanoid hands instead of, say, bear paws or something absurd. Imagine if I'd ended up with hooves! How awful that would have been!" he thought to himself as he put the notebook away, moving on to find another strange specimen to study.

As he walked, he suddenly heard what sounded like voices echoing through the caverns. It sounded rather aggressive. Was someone fighting down here? But he didn't hear any noises of an animal? Was it an argument between fellow adventurers? He thought about turning around, not wanting to get involved in an argument. But honestly, he wasn't even certain which direction the voices were coming from. The echoing was throwing him off. It was like the sound was coming from every direction at once.

The hidden cave was much closer than he would have expected, but he had no way of even knowing it was there. He didn't even know it existed.

“Give…me…the axe…the AXE!”

CRASH!

A man was knocked into and through a wall. A cloud of dust rose into the air. The man himself was completely knocked out and lying cold on the ground.

In the middle of the room, a grey-skinned woman as tall as the chamber ceiling grasped the axe and hefted it over her shoulder.

“Heh. Want it? Come—”

Someone shot an arrow into her head and sent her crashing to the ground.

A dozen people swarmed around her and wrestled control over the axe. The woman, an arrow sticking out of her helmet, viciously fended them off, punching and kicking.

Above a lightning cloud gathered as someone began chanting a spell. Lightning streaked through the darkening clouds and zapped at the people below.

One of the bolts of lightning exploded near Finley and knocked him awake. He struggled out from underneath an unconscious body and looked around. People scattering, crowding back together then scattering again, fighting, grappling, choking one another. The scene in the chamber was utter chaos.

He spied someone else. A strange animal-like man. The collapsed wall had directly broken into where Beistmild was.

“Stay away! Don’t come near!”

Finley ran at him and yelled.

Arriving next to Beistmild and putting distance between himself and the battle, Finley fished out a potion filled with swirling black smoke from his backpack.

“Dammit the axe…No!”

He still struggled with the violent feeling glued to his mind urging him to fight for the axe.

“Can you— We need to stop them. Please, can you help me?”

"Wha- What is going on in there!?" Beist shouted to the Avian that came out of the wall that had suddenly collapsed next to him? He looked through the hole to see people fighting each other madly over what looked like a normal axe.

"Why are they fighting? Stay away from what? Are you alright?" he looked down at the man. He seemed a bit injured.

Beist was confused, but tried to act on the Avian's warning. He backed away from the scene of chaos, holding his staff in front of him. He considered pulling out one of his minor healing potions for the injured man, but his injuries didn't seem too severe. And from the chaos before him, they may be needed later if the fighting overflowed out of the room into where he currently was.

"How could I possibly help with this? I'm an alchemist, not a... a... I don't even know what would help with this situation! What is happening?!" he replied to the Avian's pleas for help.

“It’s the axe, something magical, magic! It’s got their minds, twisted.”

Finley caught his breath, panting, as he explained to this strange newcomer.

“No, don’t look at it, it’ll get you too.”

Finley waved his hand at him to prevent him from looking too closely.

“As for me, I’m fine, for now...”

His body did ache all over, a bone or two might’ve been broken.

Upon hearing that Beistmild was an alchemist, Finley’s eyes lighted up.

“An alchemist? Great!”

Finley tossed his bottle of smoke up and down, weighing it, then threw into the crowd of people. A cloud of smoke exploded from the bottle covering the entire room.

Smoke Flask
Small glass flask filled with thick dark smoke, swirling around inside of it. This bottle can be smashed or broken to allow the smoke to spill out of it. The smoke creates a large cloud, filling up the area and consuming anyone standing inside of it. This smoke obscures vision, blocking out anyone inside of it and preventing people from seeing. Anyone looking from the outside in wont be able to see anything either.

“Eh, what’s this?”

“I can’t see!”

“Curses upon ye, wizard! You will pay!”

From the outside, Finley turned to the stranger.

“I’m something of an alchemist myself,”

“Do you have any bottles that can help?”

Beist was surprised as the black smoke filled the chamber of combatants. He thought for a moment about making a potion like that for himself, but quickly filed the thought away for later. Now was not the time to be lost in thought about potions. He looked back to the Avian who had said he was a fellow alchemist.

"Unfortunately, I have no sort of potion to cure whatever that is. I only have a couple of minor health potions on me at the moment. So, in my professional opinion, the best course of action available as of now... is to run away." he finished as he began to hurriedly move past them, down the cavern and away from the fighting. He stopped next to them and leaned down. "Are you too injured to run? I'm not certain a minor health potion would be enough to heal you fully if there's anything too serious, like any internal damage. There's not enough time to properly examine your injuries. My apologies, but would you mind holding this for me?" he said as he handed his walking stick to the bird man before picking him up and holding him in a princess carry.

He continued to move quickly down the cavern, his long stride carrying the two far from the fighting. They were a fair distance away when several figures emerged from the smoke, coughing. One of the figures held a large axe. The figures began to fight each other as more started to emerge from the smoke.

“Yeah, but even minor healing potion could—“

Finley was stunned momentarily, when Beistmild picked up him up in his arms. He blushed furiously, feeling embarassed. He hadn’t been carried like this, since he was a child! …and only by his mother too!

“P-put me down, I can walk just fine.”

Finley twisted his head around to look at the smoke-shrouded battle. That Smoke Flask might’ve made things worse.

The names of those people floated in his head, they were his friends. People who he had journeyed with for weeks, almost a month. He couldn’t abandon them here. They had shared a drink together under the clouds, the aviankin honored such things.

Finley sighed and shook his head.
“I can’t just leave, I have to help them or they’ll kill each other!”

He struggled out of Beistmild’s arms and managed to get back on his feet. He wobbled a little but kept his footing nonetheless.

He pulled out another flask of silvery liquid and uncorked it. He hesitated then drunk it. A tingling sensation spread through his body. His senses sharpened and muscles felt looser and lighter. He took few steps, and his feet felt like they were carried by the wind.

Quick Speed Potion
Small glass flask filled with light yellow liquid that can be attached to a belt or stored in a bag. This flask contains enough liquid for a single person to consume. Anyone who drinks this potion finds their physical capabilities increased, now being able to move quicker than they normally could. This doubles their move speed, making them run faster than normal.

“I’m going back in, to get the axe.”

“Get somewhere safe,”
He gave the walking stick back to Beistmild before rushing back into the fray.

He ducked and dodged, weaving through swinging swords and bolts of magic. Reaching near the axe, he bid his time, hidden in the smoke, waiting for an opportunity to grab it.

Beist stopped as the Aviankin struggled out of his arms. He turned back toward them, his walking stick handed back to him. He was worried for their safety, watching the crowd fight as he rushed back toward them.

"This is a terribly bad idea..." he mumbled with a heavy sigh before following behind them into the smoke. He couldn't see very well as he pulled his shirt up to cover his nose and mouth from the smoke. He felt along his waist for one of his potions and pulled it out.

"If you really insist on staying in this dangerous place, then fine. At least drink this, whatever help it may be" he whispered as he handed the minor health potion to the Aviankin. If they insisted on staying, he would feel terrible if the potion would have helped and he refused to give it to them. At least now his conscience would be clear.

Beist looked around through the smoke, seeing flashes of magic and hearing the clanging of metal against metal and metal against flesh. The fight was truly brutal. Whatever spell the axe had over these people was powerful. He wondered if it would even be possible to remove the curse or enchantment or whatever it was from them. As he looked around, he saw a large man swinging around a large axe with writing engraved on the hilt. Was this really the axe that was causing all of this?

"What is even so special about that axe? It doesn't look so great to me." he said with a little anger in his voice. He wasn't nearly as affected by the axe's power for some reason, only feeling a bit more angry than usual.

The effects of the axe on one's mind seemed awfully similar to what a Were-beast experienced while transformed. Aggression, inability to differentiate friend from foe, ignoring pain. Perhaps that was why Beist seemed mostly unaffected by the axe's magic. It was an effect he had already sought a cure to and found, though not without some side effects.

“Thank you,”

Finley stored the health potion in his jacket’s inside pocket.

He turned his gaze back to the figure wielding the axe. He kept his eyes off the axe itself, however, even so, the lure of the axe continued to pull at him.

He didn’t know why he wasn’t as heavily affected or why this beast-man friend was only slightly influenced. He had no time to think and could only put these thoughts aside for now.

In one sudden moment, an opportunity presented itself. The man wielding the axe swung it into another adventurer, who just so happened to be made of metal. The axe head bit into the shoulder of the automaton adventurer and was quite stuck.

“Teck-Then, you bastard, let go!”

“Pzzzt, n-ne-negative, o-ob-object-objective, o-obtain weapon!”

“Go to Hell!”

Finley slipped behind the man and pushed him with the weight of his entire body. The two struggling adventurers fell to the ground in a messy heap. The axe itself came loose and dropped in front of Finley.

He picked it up, the axe was huge in comparison to Finley and the axe head was wide as his chest. He struggled to even carry the axe but somehow managed to gather his strength and break into a sprint away from the fighting.

In the blinding smoke and chaos, none even noticed the axe was missing but the two adventurers, man and automaton, did cry out loudly.

“Hey, where’s the AXE!?”
“Bzzt, qu-query, l-loca-location of weapon!”

Then, immediately, a new chaos erupted as literally everyone started screaming and running around like headless chickens, trying to find the axe.

Finley, presumably along with Beistmild, managed to escape the cloud of smoke, clutching the axe.

Running into the tunnels of the Flood Road, Finley paused.

“We need to dispose of this, it is CURSED!”

Beist ran with Finley down the cavern away from the frantic crowd. They had stopped fighting and instead were completely focused on finding the stolen axe. Beist tried to think of a good way to dispose of the axe while they paused. He stroked his beard while looking up, lost in thought.

"Hm... I believe there is a pool in these caverns that would be deep enough to throw the axe into, but I fear slightly for the local wildlife what throwing that into there might do. Not because of the magic, but because of the metal in the water, you understand? This environment is still quite a mystery. Perhaps it would be best to bring it above ground to the swamps and bury it? At least until a more permanent method of destruction can be found? There is an exit in that direction if I'm not mistaken."

He looked down again to the Aviankin as they were struggling to carry the enormous (compare to them) axe. "Ah, my apologies! Perhaps I should be the one carrying that? And I'm not saying that out of the axe's influence, but because you seem to be having a bit of difficulty." he said, a look of concern obvious on his face.

“Huff, y-yes, I would like that, the axe is quite heavy,”

Finley heaved the axe up and plopped it into Beistmild’s hands, then let loose an exhausted breath. He was beginning to feel sluggish, the speed-potion had already begun wearing off.

“Er, I guess?” He answered in response to Beistmild’s comment on the wildlife.

In truth, Finley, a self-proclaimed scholar himself, would usually care much more about stuff like damaging the local fish-life in the water, but then again, he currently had much bigger concerns. However, he had no mind to debate such things and simply agreed with Beistmild.

“Aight, we dig a hole and cover it up so no one will ever find it again, sounds like a plan! Come on!”

He marched off at the direction of the exit at a brisk pace. Behind them, the sounds of fighting began to die down as the smoke cloud dispersed, leaving the adventurers with no axe in sight.

“Huhh, wha-what happened?”

“Ah! Teck-Then, are you okay?”

“Pzzt, a-affi-affirmative, s-simply a scr-scratch!”

“By the Gods, what came over me?”

Leaving the confused adventurers behind, Finley and Beistmild emerged into daylight.

“Whew, okay, where do we bury this thing—“

He realised the axe had begun to glow brightly, the letters carved on the hilt shone with scarlet light and exuded a bloodthirsty aura.

“Oh no!”

Finley immediately averted his gaze, forcibly suppressing the violent thoughts and the urge to snatch the axe from Beistmild.

Looking away from the axe, however, he noticed that the axe had drawn a crowd, of marshland beasts. Wolves, bears, ravens, snakes, wildcats, and any assortment of animal had surround the two. They snarled wildly with mad eyes.

“Great, there’s more…”

"Oh, well this is not good" Beist said with a bit of an aggravated growl in his voice. H suddenly had a look of surprise as he realized how irritated he had sounded. "Ah, my apologies. I don't know why that came out that way."

Why was he feeling so angry? Was he being affected by the axe's curse now? Would he end up attacking Finley like all those other people had attacked each other? And was it the axe attracting all these beasts?

"I'm not particularly good at fighting, and I've never used an axe before." he said as he took the axe from Finley and held it in both hands, his walking stick stuck through his belt.

He looked around at the animals that had surrounded them. The animals eyed the axe, but they also seemed to be wary of each other. Are they not allies? Is this just the same situation now as it had been with the people down in the caverns? An all-out brawl to steal the axe? If so, perhaps they had a chance.

"Do you happen to have another one of those smoke flasks?" Beist asked Finley, keeping his eyes on the beasts around them.