Before we plunge back into the CodeCombat multiverse, I would really appreciate if someone with a leader or regular status could change everywhere where I have spelled ‘Usara’ as ‘Ursara’ please, especially in the topic title (as I can’t do that myself anymore, or unless editing access could be granted) - this would clear up any confusion concerning whether I am writing about Usara or Ursara. Thanks!
And now, we shall pick up where we left off: Nalfar Cryptor, supreme necromancer of CodeCombat, has informed the Council of the Den of his somewhat baffling new theory - that Usara is from a parallel universe that houses the very roots of this ‘multiversal’ pandemic of ogres. But what happens next? Will the Council take him seriously? Or will they brush it off like that annoying speck of dust that never comes off…?
Chapter 3: Capture
“And we’re supposed to wait for Nalfar’s ‘Master Wizard’ to come and bust us out of this filthy dungeon?”, muttered Senick, distastefully.
“Apparently so. Some how. We shall live out the remainder of our days stuck here, 'til we rot to the bones!”, grunted Gordon the Stalwart. Their miserable attitude seemed to cling to the air, until none of them could even crack a smile. That was, until…
The silence that followed held for a surprisingly long time. Nine point four seconds, to be exact, which smashed the record for the longest silence ever held by the Den on a regular occasion. You can see a record of the records held by many a number of people in the library where Cougar got her PhD. But so much praise for that record compared to the pandemonium that broke out.
“What parallel universe?”
“Master Wizard? Impossible!”
“Whose father?”
“Absolute dung, to my ears!”
“SILENCE!!”, boomed Okar Stompfoot, submitting his colleagues to a baleful stare. “I will not stand by supposed role models making such a racket when one of our most revered comrades is delivering a table-turning discovery!”.
The effect was instantaneous. Many heroes sat down, shifting uncomfortably in their seats, guilt written al over their faces.
“Thank you Okar,” said Illia, “so Nalfar you were saying, if I recall correctly, that the root of this ‘plague’ of ogres is from distant and unreachable plane that we are virtually powerless to uproot? Then this war was for nothing! We shall be slaughtered one by one and let our world be overrun!” But Nalfar knew better than to shrink away at these piercing words. Instead, he grinned.
Usara counted to ten before chasing after Nalfar in hot pursuit. This turned out to be one of her biggest mistakes. Had she waited for Nalfar to return, then maybe things would have turned out better. She had now reached a vertical cliff face that towered over her. Maybe I should try and climb it, she thought. She was sure she had seen Nalfar come this way. She began to climb. Or rather she fell face forward through the rock. Brushing the dust off of herself, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom when she felt something whip past her head and bury itself in the cave wall. Her first instinct was to run straight forwards, where she barrelled right into the back of Nalfar and tumbled into the Den.
“Run! Ogres!” she shouted at them. But they just stared back at her blankly. “You know, ogres! Blue, scary things with weird swords and throwing spears and purple fireballs! Or I’ll just save myself then!” And she did. She hightailed it out of the cave and through the woods, but, thinking twice, she hid behind some bushes near the cave to watch the drama unfold, all the while berating herself for how pathetic she looked. In front of heroes!
BOOOOMMMMMMMM!!
The very Earth shook as she watched another blazing fireball hurtle towards the cliff.
BOOOOMMMMMMMM!!
Usara was sure this was the end of her life being able to hear life itself.
BOOOOMMMMMMMM!!
And now at this point, after another earth-shaking explosion, Usara began to get seriously concerned about her health, I mean, what would her mother say? But her worries about her wellbeing melted before her eyes when a gargantuan ogre division march past her and into the wreckage of the cave. No doubt about it, Nalfar’s hero friends stood as much chance of defeating the ogres as a snail beating Usain Bolt’s 100m world record. Usara was alone in this world, save for one dark elf who happens to be a supreme necromancer who claims to be on first-name terms with Usara’s mother. What choice did she have?
Usara resolved to follow after the division had left, which took two hours. Persistence pays, her mother always said, and when it does, don’t object. By dusk, the division reached the entrance to a dungeon hidden deep within the forest, and this was when Usara was presented with a big question - so I came all this way, but, do I have the tools to get in? Or out? Now it was time for Usara’s good old wit to show her true colours.
It took about 3 days for Usara to find an entrance into the dungeon other than the main gates; a portcullis hanging over the mouth of a river that rarely got lowered down. It was often used for waste management but this didn’t stop Usara. Scrambling through the gap, Usara made her way through the dungeon, narrowly avoiding passing munchkins, all the while, praying that no one discovered her presence.
After a few hours, she discovered an armoury tucked away down a dark corridor as she made a hasty escape away from some approaching guards. Or more that it was a room used to keep the weapons previous heroes had used but were unlucky enough to get thrown into the dungeons. A musty smell of old books hung in the room as Usara picked her way through the various cobwebs that seemed to bar her path. Maybe I could find some sort of weapon here, she thought. But a nagging thought that she had been fighting to suppress suddenly broke out. She came from a world of wizards; what if there were no staffs here? What if she couldn’t control her powers? After some time, she came across a rather large battle staff topped with what looked like a three dimensional emblem of Domini Omnipotentis:
(Credit: CodeCombat Cavern Survival)
Several questions raced through her mind, but the ones at the forefront were: who could have this belonged to, and where were they now? As she reached for the staff, a spark of electricity shot from her fingers and lit up the staff in the gloomy darkness, which hovered into the air, crackling and trembling, until it came to rest in Usara’s trembling hand. Running her hands along the staff, a new question presented itself to Usara as she noticed a piece of half-burnt paper fastened around it with some string, which she untied. On it the following passage was scrawled on:
The storm is stirring, worlds shall wither;
In spite of darkness, omnipotent those hither
Who take control over thy own mind
And be the cause of thy own sanity to grind;
Out of the darkness, into the truth,
Master of Masters shall wield the One staff,
The One Staff to conquer them, reason them, vanquish them,
But at the Pinnacle of Fire,
Shall realise their foe, the spy, the cheat,
And duel them in the cold arms of Death.
The storm is stirring, worlds shall crumble;
Master of Masters shall wield the One staff,
The One Staff to conquer them, reason them, vanquish them,
And duel them in the cold arms of Death.
As bemused as she was, Usara still had the mental capacity to understand the sheer significance of what she had just read. She turned the parchment over to find more writing:
P.S to N.C
What could this be? But then she felt a hand touch her neck…
END OF CHAPTER 3
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